Tag: moms

Headed to Branson-in Spirit

I should be on a plane right now. Headed to Branson with my family on vacation. Instead I am matching the raindrops on my window with my own tears as they fall. I am driving in the middle of the bustling city wondering how I got here.

Not here physically. I know exactly where I am.
And it’s not pretty.

It's not the vacation I'm mourning.
It's the feeling that going on vacation brings. The temporary reprieve from life. The anticipation of new adventures. The guilt of spending money is washed away with the knowledge of bonds being strengthened and memories being made.

Instead of all those feelings, I’m facing the stark reality of my life in real time.
I’m facing a divorce after 5 years together. I’m facing how to manage $2100+ more in monthly bills that I’m now responsible for.

I’m facing how to maneuver what was an already stressed life to an even more stressful life.

There will be no more trips to see and save my son.
No more weekend adventures camping or 4 wheeling with my husband. No more phone calls when I’m broke down in traffic and need rescuing.

I can already hear the whispered voices: “She did it to herself. She should have known…….she should have done this or that…..”
Some of the same things these same people have said about my addicted son and his life.

Is it true? Pretty much.
Is it helpful? 💯 NO🚫🙅‍♀️

Whether it’s my fault or not,
I’m still faced with the same issues plus a hundred more now. I’m faced daily with the sickening and stark reality that in just 2 weeks my son is facing prison. He will either comply or he will make things extremely more difficult for himself.

I still battle the everyday realization that he is stuck in some kind of time warp right now where he lives in survival mode instead of what he could be doing to prepare for court.

It’s mind-boggling and extremely hard to understand.

My stomach cringes in agony that he lives in such struggle and hardship. A groundhog day of broken down cars, dead batteries, moving and hiding them so they don’t get towed. Finding food, money and whatever else it takes to survive on the street. Cars are a great relief from the wind and snow but in 100+ degree heat they are just ovens. Especially with no gas.

But none of that should be my concern.

I’m supposed to live my life and forget about his problems. I tried. Obviously failed.

Now I’m losing ground myself.
Addiction can be blamed for a lot of things, but mostly it takes the energy and souls of those trying to fight it.
I found out that the scattered remnants of addiction’s consequences ( debt, relapses, criminal record, fines, fees, housing problems, abandonment of responsibilities ) all bring out the worst in others. Especially if they take a tough love approach and / or remain bitter and resentful.
Luckily my husband was my number 1 supporter in trying to help my son. But it still takes a toll.
Other issues are more bound to come up too.

Would this have happened without the addiction to bring it out?

Would other marriages survive if addiction didn’t come into it? Who knows? Maybe.

Life is one complete unknown.
We just have to do the best we can with what tools we have at the time.

I still have other healthy, happy kids. I have beautiful grandkids. I have a home- Thank GOD🙏‼️🙏 I have a job.
Today I was able to talk to my boy and for that I am grateful. He could tell I was sad and I felt his concern. He feels some responsibility and it adds to his shame of loss and pain.
Unfortunately, the tools seem so out of reach for him.
I have to rely on myself. I have to find a way to get stronger. I have no one to fall back on. No parents or siblings. I have to formulate a plan of action.

But first, I’m going to lean my head against this cold, rainy window and let the tears flow.
Because I know the sun will shine again.

Freedom in America

I don’t care what party you’re for or what president you hate or don’t hate; or if you think addiction is a choice or a disease.

What I care about is the innocent victims in THIS COUNTRY who have their lives shattered over a widening epidemic that continues to spread throughout our society. We still have the Judge Judys turning their heads saying “Not my family- We’re too talented, rich, smart, etc. This doesn’t affect me. I taught them better”


Then we continue to have Big Pharma promoting new drugs to fight the old ones, ATF & drug cartels “likely” bribing each other. Police forces possibly funding their own drug problem for “job security.”
Not to mention the many money and drug launderers who seemingly run businesses and are the pillars of their communities but are benefiting from this epidemic.

If you don’t believe this is happening you will soon. Recovery.org states that 1 in 3 Americans have been harmed by others’ addictions. Recent exposure has shown a light into the darkness of trafficking and addiction.


Meanwhile, a thousand tears are being cried, people living in broken down trucks or in trap houses because they’re too ashamed to get help. Kids on father’s day wondering why they aren’t important enough to win over a demon enslaved brain who’s been hijacked to think it only needs that evil drug to survive. (Which it does to a point).


I care about people wanting help and being told that the treatment is 15- 30 k a month with the recommended time being 3-6 months. Only movie stars can afford that. The others have to scrimmage around getting any morsel of help for their shattered lives that they can all while being pressured and legally bullied to pay fines etc immediately.


No money for lawyers, to fight for basic human needs, for the layman to understand his rights.
No money to give to a little child to tell them it’s not their fault but it IS in their genes and also “Hey by the way, you are going to need years of self-awareness to make sure the illness doesn’t repeat.”

Meanwhile, we all suffer as a society. We wonder why people steal, why the mentally ill are hanging around our neighborhoods, why families are dysfunctional and hurting in deep deep pain, often silent pain.

There seems to be only room in this world for the wealthy, the devious, or endless useless political arguments that we usually have no say in. 

I deeply respect freedom. I respect those who fought for our rights and those who lost their lives for their country. I even respect that my son and others did have the freedom to choose a stress and pain relief those first times of using. I have come to understand that their choice was quickly taken away once they became addicted and caught in the snares of all that addiction to entails.


I hope we can try to remember the ones who didn’t traditionally celebrate the 4th of July.

Likely because they didn’t have the typical freedom most of us do. Being enslaved in a disorder that offers no winners is not freedom. Being stuck in this same loop of feeding the monkey on your back like any other day of the year yet having just enough mental illness not to believe they have other options.

I hope today we can decide to not argue and spread hate and vitriol in the genre of the political climate. I hope we can turn anger into enlightenment and compassion. This can’t be done by attacking and creating more strife.

I hope today we can remember the one who didn’t get a red, white and blue snowcone or have a roasted hot dog. They didn’t watch the fireworks with a cozy blanket around them surrounded by their family.

Yes, it may be “their own fault” but how cruel is that? How does that help solve a huge problem? Telling them they need to figure it out didn’t stop the 8-14 thousand homeless who live on the streets with my son.

Today on this after-holiday, let’s help not hurt. Call someone affected by addiction and tell them you are thinking of them. Call someone struggling and ask them if you can buy them lunch.

Have a blessed day

Pain

My teeth cringe when I even read the word. Tooth pain or earache pain are my worst sources of pain. Physical anyway. Physical pain has an advantage over emotional pain because with physical pain there appears to be an end to the discomfort. Of course the times I’ve been writhing in sweat and curled up in a ball; I never thought there would be an end. In fact very soon after I met my current husband I had an infected tooth which was so bad he had to take me in the night to an emergency dentist. It sort of cemented my endearment of his kindness.

Of course if we had our choice in life we would choose door number 2: no pain. But as the saying goes: no pain no gain.

Some might say that pain represents something that needs healing. Otherwise we would be a robot right? After years of wondering why does someone choose drugs despite so many negative consequences; I finally came to the realization that substance use and alcohol are coping skills for stress and pain.

I was impressed to read this blog by Paul Noires:


𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥:
Paul Noiles


I’ve learned on my healing journey that emotions don’t disappear when we ignore them—they get stored in the body.




I spent years running from how I felt. Pushing it down. Numbing out. Pretending I was fine. But the truth is that pain doesn’t go away — it just goes deeper. It gets trapped in the nervous system, in the body, in our energy. And over time, it shows up as stress, illness, disconnection, and reactive outbursts we can’t explain. And addiction is one way to deal with this pain. But I also had many other ways, like emotional eating, lying to others about how I was doing, and many other ways that I thought were clever.




Every time I got triggered, it wasn’t because something was wrong with me — it was my body trying to say: There’s something here that needs to be felt. Something that needs to be released.




I used to believe that feeling my pain would destroy me. But I’ve discovered this: the real damage came from not feeling it.




Something shifts when we allow ourselves to feel—even when it’s hard or even when it hurts. We stop carrying the past in our muscles, we stop reacting to old wounds, and we create space for peace, clarity, and real power.




So here’s the choice I try to make every day: to feel it instead of fleeing it, to face it instead of fake it. Because I know now what we feel, we can heal.




And that’s where our freedom lives.

– Paul Noiles

Paul’s blog

I think this is so telling of the mindset of those struggling. This is why I always preach about shaming.

Shaming and addict does nothing but elicit defensiveness and distance

This is a Post I wrote a few years ago about how words matter. Of course it takes us awhile to get past our own pain and disappointment to be able to not react to all the behaviors that come with addiction. It takes a lot of intention and practice to have meaningful non- harmful conversations with people who push all our buttons. If we can develop a heart of compassion it makes that process easier.

As always, I appreciate any support for my new and first book!

1000 Last Goodbyes

Motherhood Lessons

Motherhood is about raising and celebrating the child you have, not the child you thought you’d have. It’s about understanding he is exactly she person he’s supposed to be. And if you’re lucky he might be the teacher who turns you into the person you’re supposed to-be.” – The Water Giver

Motherhood has its ups and downs for sure. Those of us who wonder if we did the right things in equipping our children with the strength, courage and character to “make it” in the world, should feel comfortable that we did what we could with what we had.

Age, genes, and life experience matter. A 20 year mother isn’t going to have the life wisdom of a 30 year old mother but age doesn’t necessarily give maternal instinct either. Some people have it and some don’t yet and may never. 

At the same time, well educated parents don’t necessarily produce the “best” kids either.

Then you have the discussion is what is a “good” kid. Because I’ve seen enough performative kids and adults behave well for years and climb the ladder in church or career only to fall and fall big. Not just lose their job big but go crazy and/or commit crimes big. Was it a midlife crisis or did they finally crack from the weight of always living for someone else?

  • As a parent, it’s easy to feel ineffective when you or your kids have suffered big losses.

In retrospection of my life, I’ve found that going down those negative thought spirals does nothing for my self worth or my mental health and quality of life.

What DOES help my mental health is appreciating what I have and giving myself tons of self compassion. This means giving myself the love and appreciation that I crave and need from others but most likely will feel disappointment of it doesn’t come.

Finishing my book of the story of raising my kids was therapeutic for myself but also swings open the door for criticism and acceptance.

Will it be relatable? Is it too long? Is it to subject specific? (Drug use). Only time will tell.

Meanwhile I continue to try to not be dependent on others’ opinion or at least be appreciative of it but then let it go.

Here’s the link to my book if you would like to read more or support me in my efforts.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1958533262

I would love a review on Amazon. You don’t even have to buy the book, just read the sample and give me stars!

💐Happy Mothers Day 2025💐

Higher

I pushed the plastic swing a little higher as my son squealed in delight. “Higher Mom!” His blonde hair was flying in the breeze as his head bobbled around to see me.

The cool spring air felt warmer with the sun beating down on it. I looked at my other child, Haven, running in the field with my husband. They were trying to get the kite to rise off the ground as it bounced along behind them stubbornly refusing to give up gravity.

It had been a long winter and we were happy to get the kids out of the house at the first sign of spring.

I lifted my boy off the swing and bent down to adjust his little levi pants that were twisted. With my face near his, I caught a glimpse into his excited eyes. It caught me off guard.

I was confused. I had seen those eyes. Scared. Lost. Muddled.

Where was I? I looked around. The park looked familiar, but what town? Haven and her dad joined us and I felt a strange sense of Deja Vu. Like I was watching a movie of this day and not really in it.

My husband looked younger. But wait! This was my ex- husband! What was happening? I must be having a stroke. I tried to say something to him but what could I say? “Why are you here?”

We all piled into the car in what seemed like 1000 times before and headed home. It felt familiar and normal so why was I confused? I decided this must be what it’s like to finally go crazy. As we pulled into the stone paved driveway, it hit me.

This was my Do-Over!

I had wished for this many times in the last few years.

Liam! Oh no! He’s going to be so mad! How do you say you went back to your husband 33 years into the past? This might be a problem.

Last time it happened I was walking into a jail on the edge of town with my new husband Liam.

We were walking down the deserted echoey cinder block hall in the dead of the night. The sense of trepidation was thick as fog as we had come to bail out my firstborn son, Mason. It was a window of opportunity that was rare in this journey we had been on for less than a year.

There was a strange sense of apprehension in the air. This longtime happy destination town now held a strange sense of foreboding. In numbing shock, I stared through the tiny, darkened glass window. Behind that door was stuff seen only on TV: criminals, some hardened and angry, others pale and restless, looked like lost dogs. Others appeared neutral, listless, and indifferent toward their predicaments. All had lost their freedom due to their own poor choices or unfortunate sets of circumstances. The correctional officers stood vigilant, paid to control other human beings who had lost the ability to control themselves.

I had tried so hard to mold my little family into functional, loving, successful humans; yet here we were.

The horror of the legal system had now penetrated the sanctity of my little family.

I wanted a do-over.

I wanted to go back to that little blonde haired boy and warn him somehow. Of all he would face.

As I listened to the bail bondsman’s voice drone on about how drugs had taken over the town, how officers couldn’t keep up with the revolving door, and what a tragedy it was, yet the situation made them a “dang good living.”

I thought, Well, good. I’m glad we can endure the pain and humiliation of our son being arrested for drugs to help you buy some specialty cheese. Now get me out of this nightmare!

This was Mason’s second arrest. Liam and I made the agonizing decision to bail him out and get him into rehab, which he had previously refused. We seized the opportune moment to bargain. I would soon learn how very valuable these windows of opportunity were.

Like the experts had proclaimed for years, most drug users progress through different drug types and ingestion methods due to the need for more and more of a high. My son had said several times through the first year or two of his heavy pill addiction that he would “never use a needle.” When he walked through that heavy steel door wearing a big smile because he was so happy to see us, I expected to feel relief. Instead, I was shocked. I hadn’t seen Mason for nine months. He looked like he had fought through a war zone. Instead of the happy golden blonde curls from 30 years ago, his moppy brown hair lay slumbering over his long eyelashes. At the pig farm, he started smoking pills. Now, apparently, he was using needles.

I couldn’t.

I just couldn’t fathom that this was my life.

But what do you do? Disown-them? Tell me them to get your shit together and call me then? Or as my son was told “ call me when you have all the money and 6 months clean”.

So I swallowed my feelings and let the thoughts of a do-over slide away. After all- I could be given a worse problem if I really was given a Time Machine.

I woke up from the dream of the swing and took a big sigh.

Everyone has their challenges in life. This was my hardest so far and God be willing- my last hardest before I swing into old age.

I got up to face my day. Like millions of mothers spread out across the world. Hidden in their pain. Afraid to tell their story. Afraid to be judged. I vowed that I would change that. 

We can’t be embarrassed of our kids struggles or their choices that led them there.

Yes, they are the only ones who can change it but we can be the lighthouse to show them the way out of the darkness.

I had to take care of myself and find my light.

To order my new book click here. It’s on kindle, paperback and hardcover.

Or if you would like a signed copy Venmo me here and I’ll mail it to you $20

Car Show

We went to the car show today at the Los Angeles county fairgrounds. It was hot and I forgot my hat, sunglasses and sunscreen because it was originally going to be a museum day. Needless to say after 4 hours of walking around on asphalt and drinking dehydration inducing drinks, I was exhausted. I could barely make it back to the car where I collapsed into a zombie like state until we reached our hotel room.

I threw off my dusty hot clothes and jumped in the shower. Then I ate my leftover sandwich from last night with a white powdery donut to top it off. I put my AirPods in and snuggled into bed listening to my book on tape while coloring a peacock in my “365 Ways To Live in Harmony” adult coloring book.

My mind drifted to my son, like it always seems to. On the streets of Vegas homeless and addicted. Who would have ever thought? It’s beyond my wildest imagination that this would be my life or one of my kids.

Contact with him is sparse due to the inability to keep a phone and keep them charged. He had a vehicle for awhile which made that more possible but trying to keep it running and keep it from getting towed became more than he could handle without money. Also having a vehicle in Vegas heat is like pulling around the witch’s oven in Hansel and Gretel.

Back to my car show story. I’ve mostly moved past any guilt of having a warm, cozy bed and plenty of food when one of my offspring doesn’t. With a lot of hard inner work I have moved through that trigger but I have plenty of others. But what drifted across my mind tonight was how much the nervous system relies on these moments of rest to function as needed.

We are wired and pushed to go go go but we also need to keep our stoppers in prime condition so we know when to slow down.

I know we are swamped with the “ Trauma” word as a cause and/or excuse for many things these days. But there are many studies which show how trauma affects the nervous system. For the homeless and those addicted, they are used to being swamped with high levels of dopamine.

It’s how addiction works. Flooding the brain in the beginning with levels that are beyond normal so that eventually the receptors dull down and accept less and less. So it’s a losing battle to get the same euphoria yet they are now so caught up in the chase that they can’t stop.

For us, weekends, or vacations are a chance to reset our daily grind from the quest for the mighty dollar and all our family responsibilities.

We can have a break and let our nervous systems relax and renew so we are better able to face these responsibilities. For those caught up in addiction or homelessness, they never get that break except with the relief of the drugs. So the drugs replace every avenue of normal human wellness.

In my blog here I talk about the 8 dimensions of wellness including emotional, spiritual, intellectual physical, environmental, financial and occupational, and social. It’s so important for emotional health to meet at least some of each of these every day or at least every few days. This is why having one of your kids on the street or otherwise not doing well is like fingers on a chalkboard. It creates havoc in your own nervous system because it goes against every natural tendency that most mothers have.

We are born with all the instincts to keep our offspring and those entrusted to our care, safe.

Nurturing and edifying their world comes next but first and foremost we have to kept them alive so they can be nurtured and edified. This doesn’t stop when they turn 18 or when they take a left turn and go down the path of pain and turmoil.

So yes I try to keep my own wellness wheel greased and running smoothly but that doesn’t mean I don’t get sad at the times when I am cozy comfortable and my son is walking in 113 degree heat with no safe place to go.

My heart hurts in those moments. I turn to prayer often. I seek quiet moments of peace and joy where I can revel in the fact that my son is alive and he has the power and gift of God deep inside him. He was raised with a sense of right and wrong and he possesses a profound power of will. He has the skills and the drive to do anything including pull out of this incredible deep hole he has found himself in. But most of all my son knows he is loved. Even with those who have treated him according to the behaviors of the addiction, and can’t talk to him right now; my son knows that he is loved. He has a deep connection to his daughter and he always talks about his son as if he is with him and feels him, even though he hasn’t been able to see them in 2 years. 

So I continue to soothe. I relax in the sun. I relax in the shade. I listen to music. I have a refresher beverage. I revel in those who want to be with me and who pile love on me. Because my quality of life depends on my ability to self soothe and accept the joys of life amidst the sorrows.

A Meltdown in Yellowstone

Lewis Lake campground Yellowstone

34 years ago I took my 2 little kids to Yellowstone and camped at Lewis Lake campground. In 2015, while driving through Yellowstone, I found the same campground and took this picture.

It may or may not be the same one, but it took me back to those days of raising my kids. Thinking of their pudgy little dirty camping faces and big bright smiles. The ponds, the frogs, the marshmallows. We were making memories without even realizing it. We were bonding even without knowing someday those bonds might be challenged.

I was completely overcome in the moment of life’s synchronicities and also the sheer devastations that affect our hearts and souls so deeply.

34 yrs happened in the flash of an eye. 1/3 of our lives, yet at the time, it seemed so long at the time. The days seemed overwrought with the business of life: school, work, food and clothing. Taking care of everyone’s needs. The busy-ness of homework, friend dates and endless car rides to sports and tournaments and science fairs.

At the time, I would collapse into bed at night exhausted, wondering what I had even accomplished. But now I know: I accomplished life.

I provided five little humans with love, connection and a mostly stable life. Our lives were not perfect and we lived paycheck to paycheck. We struggled with how to handle the changes & challenges of daily life. But my kids grew up knowing they were part of a tribe, who had a purpose. Even if that was just getting through each day with the consistently of family and finding joy and pleasure wherever we could.

Now that they are all grown and have had to face the harsh darkness of what life can throw at us, it’s sometimes easy to fall into the “what could I have done differently?” thoughts. These thoughts, while normal and natural, only lead us to more turmoil. They don’t serve us well and they certainly don’t offer hope or peace.

I was often told back then, to enjoy my kids while they are little. At the time I thought the people who said that, must not understand how stressful my life was. Now I know. They knew what was coming. They knew how little control over adults, parents have. They knew the temptations and demons that were out there just waiting for our innocent little kids.

They wanted me to have all the precious time I could while my kids were somewhat within my reach. I started to take their advice slowly and purposefully. I tried to expose my children to the great outdoors so they could appreciate the simple things. Sacrifices were made so we could take meaningful vacations. This tradition continued into their adulthood as they sought out adventures and new experiences theirselves and with their new families. Unfortunately it is also one more casualty that addiction can take the blue ribbon for. Fracturing us as a whole, just enough to stop the bonding and fun activities that were done together.

It’s not all gloom & doom. Some (most) of my kids are thriving although somewhat always struggling financially. It’s fun to see the good things they have done as adults & there are so many amazing, wonderful grandkids. My kids are all extremely hard workers and very smart. I think it all goes back to those first years of learning and growing together in a stable environment that encouraged freedom and growth. Yes, I’m going to take credit for the good, and I’m going to take some of the blame for the bad.

It’s ok to have a few regrets. Each person has their own personal responsibility for their life and the impact it has had on others.

It’s the ruminating in those regrets that keeps us stuck. For now I am trying to just be happy for the memories and for all the time spent together.

Days like today when reality hits of just how sick my son continues to be and how it affects almost every aspect of my life; I have to feel the pain and despair, acknowledge it then have my quick cry and move on.

Being in despair over what happened to my “child”, my family, and how disheartened I still feel most days; I have to take comfort in knowing that I did the best I could with what tools I had. It’s about moving forward with hope and love, being grateful for what I do have and what peace and tools are available for me.

Don’t ever underestimate the impact their childhood had on their personalities and core values. They still have them, they’re just buried under their struggles. They can get out from under them.

Hold on with hope. Someone has to.

https://www.medpagetoday.com/psychiatry/addictions/61531

New Year New Hope

We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun. ☀️But now winter is here & it’s that Cold time of year

Goodbye 2025

It’s been real

But not real fun

You did teach me some valuable things:

  • That I can celebrate small joys even when I feel incredible pain, disappointment and sadness inside.
  • That I am capable of deeper love and forgiveness than I thought.
  • That others opinions of me don’t prove my worth

In fact—most opinions are so greatly skewed by our experience and by our pain, that they don’t represent what is happening in real time. For example, yesterday my husband and I were going through a storage unit and were listing things for sale. I looked up some end tables to find out they were worth almost $300. I said,

“Why haven’t we been using these?”

“Because I thought you hated them.”

“Why would you think that? I’ve never even seen them.“

“I just thought they must not have been good enough for you.”

Heavens. So much conjecture. He had moved these item from his storage shed to one closer to us after we had married- his third marriage, my second. Most of the item were from his previous marriages so there really was no reason for me to go through them as I had my own household items. Whatever he was keeping must be for sentimental value—who was I to question that? But that may be my own projection.

But back to my list:

  • Planting consistent seeds of hope and emotional support can turn into trees of pure gold. And if they don’t, then at least I offered my part of spreading good vibes into the universe.
  • I also learned that no matter what you witness in others or from others such as rudeness, shaming, shunning, or complete indifference; it is a reflection of the lack of love and acceptance they have experienced in their life and you are just the current easiest target.

In 2023 I experienced some of my darkest moments. Moments that made me question my purpose and my existence. I was ravaged with thoughts of death and the adversary’s favorite words: 

“Why try?”

2023 taught me that trying is as much a part of life as eating or drinking. You have to continually do it or face annihilation.

A recent family situation made me see that there are people who have their limits of trying. They committed to doing just so many things for someone and when the results were not shown in their time limit, they ceased all contact. This caused incredible pain to the person because even they themselves didn’t understand why they couldn’t achieve lasting results in their goals and life.

Human behavior has always been the biggest mystery of the universe and when you add in substance use, mental illness, and the destructive personality types of narcissism and controlling vindictiveness; the perfect storm of vitriol and spite will most likely destroy relationships.

After almost being crushed by these actions I’m 2025, I am determined to do the thing.

The thing of New Years Resolutions

I will commit to trying harder, loving deeper and singing louder. I will write more and publish my book! Cook better meals, and dance more.

To the New Year: Let’s be friends

Let’s have new adventures and breakthroughs often, and let’s join in spreading kindness not hate.

Let’s believe people when they show you how deep their pain~ then show THEM how deeply love heals💘🖤💘🖤💘

Most of all 2025: can you please be my friend?

Let’s make this OUR year of L♥️V ✌️PEACE & J📀Y!!

Running Toward Pleasure

The phrase spoken in Netflix’s new “Painkiller”:

“All of human behavior is essentially comprised of two things: running away from pain and toward pleasure…….its a cycle….

This circle is our existence . It is the very essence of what it means to be human, being alive. But if we place ourselves right there between pain and pleasure…WE become the gatekeepers for everyone who wants to get away from pain then we have changed the world…….

Then you will never have to worry about money ever again”.

https://www.netflix.com/title/81095069?preventIntent=true

This is the basic premise to the Sacklers fortune and the subject of many lawsuits and legislation. It’s also the basis of tremendous suffering of many people for years as they navigate the consequences of addiction and the cause of many tragic deaths affecting millions of families. 

"A drug you never knew you needed"....

Was the sales pitch….

But then later one of the Sacklers states:

"I am appalled that someone would abuse this drug".

As a nurse, I see the residual effects of Sacklers pain pitch every single day. The pain scale is still taken as gospel and still used extensively and the Joint Commission which oversees hospitals, has the authority to inflict fines and reduce privileges and operations if pain is not addressed.

As a mom of a chaotic substance user I have walked in the depths of the Sacklers’ business model manifested as homelessness, incarceration, bankruptcy, endocarditis, congestive heart failure, sepsis, MRSA, coma, and progressive crimes to obtain the “pleasure”,

“For a minute people actually think they are getting their lives back. And they do. For a little while”

My son was the perfect model for this. He said when he was at the height of his pill use, he was the most productive he’s ever been. He also said everyone looked up to him and worshiped him. The minute they cracked down on pills, he was also the poster child for turning to cheaper and “more” accessible ways to manage his sickness. Then all bets were off. He would lose everything over the next 3 years. What bothered him the most, I believe, was losing the respect from family and friends. He was still essentially the same person trying to get by, now thrust into a world of illegal drugs, sketchy behavior to get said drugs and the loss of the ability to take care of himself and his responsibilities.

This is what struck me the most while watching the first 3 episodes of Painkiller. The irony of how quickly someone can go from being “ok” to society then have the wrath of “not ok” with all the stigma plus the world of the correctional system bearing down on them for essentially trying to manage an illness with drugs that are mostly the same. One just happens to be illegal.

I know that people who haven’t had a personal experience with addiction will have their opinion on it and might blow off movies like “Painkiller, Dopesick” and the one I based the info in my book on: “The Business of Drugs”.

“They should have known better”

“Everyone knows drugs are addictive”

Or my favorite:

“Play stupid games win stupid prizes” said by someone who is very smart and never does anything wrong, ever.

That’s fine.

Education and awareness is great but if you don’t have horses in the game, you don’t really care who “wins”.

As I go about trying to live a normal life with this weight always in the pit of my stomach; I notice this attitude throughout my interactions.

People are all going through their own struggles, and although addiction, homelessness, court hearings, jail, prison and related health issues are an immense burden to bear; others problems are big to them too.

As I was treating myself to getting my nails done the other day, I became fixated on the disparity of my nail lady’s “perceived” life and house and my life and house. Everything was high end, posh, in its place, comfy, cozy, and screamed success. As she talked about her pool cover being broken, having to pay for her boat to be cleaned, her dogs at boarding school, the struggle of buying skimpy school clothes for her teenager; I became more and more depressed. What I wouldn’t give to have what she had and wander around all day watering flowers and ordering fingernail polish instead of worrying about where my son is sleeping and if he’s eating and watching my phone for any number with his area code that could mean trouble and despair.

But when I got home and relayed all of my thoughts to my husband, he wisely told me: “Many people envy our life too, we have good jobs, lots of family, a safe -albeit small- condo, and a fridge full of food”. 

He forgot to mention the most important thing--someone who loves us.

The Sacklers’ story is an interesting one. They are portrayed as uncaring and unapologetic. They seem to believe that money will solve everything and fix any problems they created.

With money comes more options and opportunities but also different types of problems.

Would I trade my problems for others’? Some days. Would I want all the Sacklers billions? No, not if it’s blood money. Do I think having a few hundred thousand would solve most of my problems? Yes. But as it is, I am blessed beyond belief at what I do have. 

As my mama always said: "If you have your health you have everything".

My husband and I have our health, a safe and comfy home, food and vehicles and family.

Blessed beyond belief but yes, still praying for my prodigal son and all the issues surrounding that to be resolved and healed.

The other thing I realized is I can be mad all day long at the cause of addiction that barged its way into my family, but that’s not going to solve the problem. It’s not going to give my son an Intervention and break from his lifestyle. It’s not going to repair damaged relationships. It’s not going to miraculously change mindsets, and habits, and hurt feelings. All of those things have to be worked on constantly and intentionally by ALL involved.

All I can do is stay strong, healthy and loving. I will continue to get my nails done because it is a bright spot every minute of every day when I see my cute nails. It makes me think that one thing is right in this moment.

It makes me feel “normal” whatever that is. It takes me away from my world for an hour or two and if I play it right—and not let the envy get to me—I can pretend I’m in a luxury spa and filling up my basket. I can feed my body and mind with the good things that self care does. Replenishing my cells with vitamin filled lotion and pretty colors and relaxing music. I can relish in the similarities that we are two moms who love their kids very much and if the tables were turned l, of course would buy and have everything she has. We are women doing our best to live our best life with the challenges that each of us face. And although I would love to have rich people problems, I may not get to experience the growth and perspective that I get my being completely authentically ME, and being proud of who I am and what I have been through.