Just One Little Push!

Y'see, madness, as you know…..is like gravity. All it takes is a little push.

~The Joker in the Dark Knight



The Scream-Painted by Edvard Munch


Like certain songs that can imprint a particular event or time in our lives and hearing the melody will bring back old memories; my slips further into darkness can be tied to significant adult life stressors. You know the kind of stuff mentioned on the Holmes-Pahe Life Stress Inventory…the decay and ultimate dissolution of my teen marriage, the illness and subsequent death of my closest sibling, promotions in my career, FOUR TEENAGERS, more and more and more deaths of immediate family members, retirement, in-law problems, etc. I guess I just have never been very good at handling those things, despite some very heroic efforts on my part.

It was this last little push that put me over the edge into the darkest despair I’ve ever experienced. Madness. Pure and simple.

I was significantly suicidal and would have likely carried out the act, if it wasn’t for a small measure of guilt that popped up in my misfiring brain, which caused me to feel somewhat sorry for the ones who’d have to clear out the cluttered remnants of my shattered life. However, the other side of me; where the devil resides on my right shoulder-also took some wonderfully perverse pleasure in the thought of inflicting that overwhelming chore on those loved ones who currently don’t give a rat’s ass about their living conditions. It would serve them right! Hmmmm. What to do, what to do?

The reason for this horrific despair? Well, it was what happened AFTER another exciting episode this Summer in the ongoing saga of drugs and alcohol involving my offspring. Offspring as in plural. Suffice it to say that EVERY one of my children have some issues with substance abuse, whether or not they choose to recognize it as a problem. One thing I know. I have a problem with their drug/alcohol use/abuse, so I look at it as if they have a problem. Makes sense to me. As Dr. Phil would say, maybe to all of us, “How’s that working for ya?”

Long story short; Abbie nearly died of alcohol poisoning one night at a huge party we attended at Fly Boy’s house. I’m talking unconscious, not responding to pain stimuli, shallow insignificant breathing, etc. with a blood alcohol content of .227 at the hospital….after the paramedics, the ambulance ride and her mother’s desperate hysteria at the possibility of losing another loved one to death. But, according to Fly Boy and Fall Girl, it was the “embarrassment and humiliation” they experienced as a result of the episode that was the worst part.

I don’t want to discount my parental responsibility in this episode, and in hindsight maybe, considering her past behavior, I shouldn’t have allowed her to attend this party of over 100 people with free-flowing alcohol, food and good country music attended by family, friends and Fly Boy’s co-workers. However, never in my life would I think she would risk indulging in alcohol with me in such close proximity.

Silly me.

There again, my son…must take some responsibility in the matter as well, considering when it all came out in the wash…it turns out HE gave Abbie her first drink of the evening. In my book, a tacit….wink, wink……cool ADULT big brother move. A “just be good and stay away from mom if you drink” type approval. I dunno…I just can’t see it any other way.

So, it was the aftermath of this horrific episode that was the just the push I needed to plunge me into the abyss. Fly Boy and Fall Girl elected to “create some distance” between our two families due to the “toxic” nature of our relationships, my serious codependency and depression and a whole list of other stuff that they added to the mix, which included….. preventing me from seeing the one person with whom I experienced profound love and joy….my two year old grandson.

This was someone I saw on a regular basis, having bought a condo in Tennessee just so I could visit every 6-8 weeks. Since his birth, he was the light of my life. While my life didn’t totally revolve around him as I was pretty preoccupied with my own immediate problems, he played a significant role in keeping me sane as a result of my restorative trips to see and play with him.

I think they found it to be an intervention of sorts.

I found it cruel, unfair, heart-breaking and downright despicable. Unthinkable. Unbelievable. Unloving. Well, you get the picture, I’m sure. They did this while telling me what a great mom, grandmother and person I am, but requiring “change.” Unspecified change, without measure or specific goals for me to meet. What the HELL??

I probably I wore them out begging for something to hope for during our email exchanges as eventually they just said, “Refer to” Fly Boy’s “original email” and then all contact ceased.

As Marcel Proust said, “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes but in having new eyes.” As I crawled from the abyss, with the help of Al-Anon, I have new eyes and a fresh outlook on life. I am putting first things first. ME.

I am taking care of me and seeking restoration of my sanity. A new and improved reality that I am creating; choosing to see things differently with those new eyes. No longer am I the victim. No longer can I attempt to control what others choose to do or say, or how they see the world. No longer will I try to force my will on others. They can all walk their own path in life, despite what I think or feel. I am learning to carefully examine my motives, decisions and attitudes. Most importantly, I am learning to mind my own business and setting boundaries. I am forgiving others who have injured me and working hard at not judging others, lest I be judged.

I am finally coming to terms with what I can’t change and moving beyond the past episodes of my life that I nearly let destroy me. I am living, loving and learning with hope for a better life.

And…I'm praying. For the first time in my life…I pray, understand and seek solace in this prayer……………..