children

waves of change, oceans of opportunity….

The ocean is truly a soulful matter to me. The sound of the waves lapping at a boat hull, or rolling up onto the shore is tranquil in and of itself. Metaphorically, waves of emotion, often have the power to tear apart our lives when least expected. Change can seem inflexible and unyielding. Oftentimes, there is opportunity in the vortex that seems to envelope our lives, but it can be difficult to recognize, especially if drowning.

I am speaking of the epidemic of drugs, alcohol and addiction in those we love. Everyone is touched somehow, some way by this nefarious beast. It has many heads and tells many slanderous tales. It takes our loved ones from us. Make no mistake, the game is not one regarding captivity. The final goal is annihilation. I speak from past experience, having seen a family member taken because of addiction. I also have friends who have survived a loved one being taken from them.

Grievously, we have all been touched by friends or loved ones who are addicts or who’ve overdosed. You can see it all over Facebook and social media. There are SO MANY parents who have no idea what to do to help their addicted child, me included. This is something no one wants to talk about. It’s embarrassing if it’s your child, it’s a giant secret in even the best families. One of the reasons for this couldn’t be more disgusting.

These 20-something and younger kids either have no insurance, can’t get insurance because it is too expensive or their parents can’t afford to buy insurance for their families. In the State of Washington, you can get Medicaid, but truthfully, most clinics and private doctors don’t accept it. Going by different names, such as Apple Health, in reality it’s just Medicaid; an umbrella term or “brand name” for all Washington State medical assistance programs. If you weren’t a patient previous to the time you obtained Apple Health, most clinics will not accept you as a patient.

I have worked in the medical field for many years and KNOW this to be true. Sure you can go to a community health care clinic miles from where you live and be seen by a different provider each time, but you can’t get the care you deserve from names you know and trust. If you have no insurance, and your child needs help, you’re left with a whole lot of nothing. Meanwhile, your kid is on the streets, you try desperately to find a place for help, but there are “no beds available.” It’s on a first-come-first-served basis. People wait weeks, all the while using the whole time, being strung out, trying to just survive till tomorrow. None of them find peace. In reality, these places who take someone in for detox, actually have more dealers outside their doors than anywhere else. When the addict leaves, supposedly “detoxed,” all they have to do is step outside where there is a dealer just waiting to supply them with the next hit. I know I do not have the resources to send my kid to Arizona or some serene beach facility somewhere.

I firmly believe that if there was more help in the form of good drug programs and treatment centers who care, many addicts would be alive today. Shame on the big clinics and organizations who are able to provide help but decline because they won’t get paid enough. Is a life worth that exta $500 bucks for one visit? They end up in an ER, treated with Narcan and then released. Tell me how that helps? Remarks on FB or in the news saying, “they’re just drug addicts, who cares if they die,” or “they’re better off dead and not on the street,” infuriate me. If that addict was your sister, brother, mom, or dad would you say the same thing? Do you support those who deal with addiction, not because they want to, but because there is no choice? Just tell them you care, it’s the biggest step of all.

We all need to become more aware and care. Our children are using drugs for a variety of reasons, but all it takes is one time, and then they are hooked. They steal, cheat and lie to get the next fix. One day you wake up and you don’t even recognize your own kid. I would urge you to consider this fact: You are not immune to drugs. Kids from rich families, poor families, good families, Christian families, athletic families and even families who swear, “that won’t happen to my kid,” have horror stories to tell us if we listen.

Addiction does and can happen to anyone. If helping someone survive means we need to stop enabling them, then we need to. It doesn’t mean we need to hold a grudge against the addict. They are being held in a hell worse than we can imagine. Your grudge doesn’t hurt the addict, it only hurts you. Telling someone you love and believe in them makes more sense.

I do not know what the answer is, I just know I have to fight. The drugs are winning right now, our children are dying. I want the very best for all of my children, as any parent does. Sometimes it isn’t all wrapped up in a perfect little package and I’m not afraid to say that my family is no exception. I work on it every day in my own way and in my own heart. I dream of change and have faith it’s coming. For the first time in my life, I’m thinking about me first, which is a very difficult thing to do when you have 6 adult kids and you’ve never done it before. I’m digressing a bit, but I think I need to be at peace with myself to be able to help others. It doesn’t mean I don’t cry or stress out because of addiction in my family. It just means I’m trying my best to make it through, as that is the only way out.

We are all waves of one sea. We need to start behaving that way.

lines in the sand

In 1990, President George H. W. Bush described the initiation of the Gulf War as drawing “a line in the sand.”

Lines in the sand. We make them every day, for almost any situation. Sometimes we don’t realize we’ve created a line. Possibly, even frequently, we wish we had…. or we hadn’t, drawn that fated line….

The thing is, even if you’ve drawn the stupid thing, you can NEVER go back and erase it. You can’t stomp it out, use a twig to write “I love you,” instead. It will always be a line in the sand. Something on which you refuse to compromise.

The proverbial line in the sand is said to be, “the point beyond which one will proceed no further.” Similarly, a secondary meaning, “a point beyond which, once the decision to go beyond is made, the decision and its resulting consequences are permanently decided and irreversible.” Wikipedia.

I think this second meaning is more of the working definition I’m speaking of, the speculation that you can never go back.

crossing-the-line

Sometimes as parents, we draw a line in the sand for our children. Then the child crosses that line. Now what? You can’t go back and think to yourself, “did I really mean it?”

I know I crossed every line my parents drew, and my mom was considered an artist. I did it without even really bothering to think. If they said ‘No,’ well, then I was determined to hurtle that line. Looking back I don’t think it was such a great thing, just more of a challenge at that time. I’m not going to lie, I was a triple threat when it came to crossing lines (I was also considered an artist, adored calligraphy), which of course does not make it okay. I’m an adult now. I realize my mistakes, right?

The trouble is, that sand is full of watercolor emotions. Love, anger, relentless anxiety, that punch-in-the-stomach kind of pain, and forgiveness too. Anything you can feel, that sand represents. Draw a line in it, and all bets are off. Sand feels like a precarious balance between the conscious and the unconscious; what you want and what you think you want. Physically it squishes through your toes and runs like water through your fingers. Try to hold a wave on the sand. It won’t ever happen.

I feel having children is kind of like sand. You can build a sandcastle and it lasts for a little while but never forever. Kids never stay the same, even though we try to make them. Choices. Eventually they make them. You draw a line in the sand and dare them to cross it. When they do, you can never go back or change your mind. You have to remain strong and resilient like the waves that keep returning to the sand. Parents everywhere hope they make the correct choices.

Just so kids know, there was no instructional manual when it came to raising you. We did the best we could with what we had in our tool chest. I think all parents say that at some point to their kids but it’s so true. Staying the course, making a stand and continuity are the most difficult choices I have ever made. I hope and pray my kids will all be okay, God knows I do.

Sometimes I wish I could shake them and say, “Wake up! Listen to me! You need to hear what I have to say!” All any parent can really do is hope they heard you the first time. We don’t say these things for our health! (I’ve heard my mom say that at least 10,000 times). I heard you Mom. I hear you now. Is it so wrong to just want everything to be okay for your sweet babies? I think not.

I just wish there really was an Owner’s Manual for having a kid. It would certainly list the high alarm rate, the specific safety hazards and unfamiliar features which accompany said kid. It would definitely tell you about any technological advances a future kid could inherently have, basic operating instructions and any peripherals included with your kid, but most helpful would be the step-by-step EZ method of deactivating said kid until trouble has passed.

We parents would be much better off.

seahorse-jpg