Blind Hope

I asked my oldest son if it was okay for me to open up, and tell the story about our beginning as a #family. He told me he wants me to tell my truth because he knows how much it benefits me.

Truth be told, this history is hard to tell and was hard for him to hear in many ways, but I wanted to be certain he was okay with anyone and everyone knowing our reality. He didn’t bat an eye.

I originally went to Arizona State for college, with high hopes of staying there in an attempt to #escape the place I grew up in. But everywhere I go, there I am. That said, after my freshman year I came home with yet another #addiction. I needed help, and had gotten myself caught in a web I wasn’t able to get myself out of. Blow is a hell of a drug, and it took a very strong hold on me immediately.

Note: While I didn’t know at the time, I’ve since been diagnosed with ADD, that said, stimulant use is prevalent among those who have ADD. I was no different. To be clear, that is not an excuse, but rather information I feel worthwhile to share.

It started as a birthday gift from friends, and quickly turned into a consistent practice for me. I would use about 4 out of 7 nights a week, and on my break nights, my habit was to eat a whole bag of Cheetos. I expected to gain a significant amount of weight because of my dietary choices, but given I was only eating twice a week, it actually had the opposite effect. This drug took away #fear, it made me feel #strong and #confident, I believed I was more productive using it, and I was far more #sociable, way more than using #alcohol. Most of all, it allowed me to #escapereality.

"The attempt to escape pain, is what creates more pain." Gabor Mate

Given I had gotten caught by my parents in the throws of my addiction, they threatened to not allow me to go back to school. It was meant as a protective mechanism and was quite gentle considering the reason they caught me was because I disappeared for a couple days, and came home beyond strung out. In an attempt to regain trust (but really, just to get my way) I attended NA, slowed down on the drinking, and focused on working. That said, my parents allowed me to go back to ASU for my sophomore year on the premise that I would stay clean, and follow through on my #obligations. Truth is, I firmly intended on keeping the promises I made, but I wasn’t equipped with the tools necessary to say no to my greatest love affair – it was all about the snow. I was clean for approximately 9 days IN Arizona, and then one of my “closest” friends arrived back home to Tempe. I needed the headlight changed in my car and she sent me to a guy she knows at a local mechanic shop.

This guy was handsome, funny, and very complimentary. He had a southern accent, and a smile that made my knees give out. After he fixed my headlight, he asked me out on a date, and I agreed. I went back to the apartment giddy, and called Emma about him.

She gave me a basic rundown. She told me about where he was from, how she met him (supposedly), what they did when they hung out, and closed it out with the fact that he shared with her he was really into me.

Every “relationship”, if you can even call it that, up until that point was a disaster. With a lack of #selfesteem and #selfconfidence, I had a tendency to give into people I never should have. I ignored #redflags, and had more excuses for other's behavior than they had for their own. This situation was no different.

I paid for our first date. I paid for taking him to a clothing store to get some new things so he didn’t just wear his grunge wear when we went out. I drove him everywhere, and just assumed he was always telling the truth. There wasn't an action he took that I could have used as evidence to believe he was always telling the truth. There's that #blindhope again ...

Then, Emma’s boyfriend had a seizure one day when we were all together at her place. Come to find out, it was the result of an #overdose. I was called into the room to help and saw powder everywhere, only to learn that guy that I was into and had started dating, was the dealer. Kevin “came to” after about 20 minutes, and requested another line. I was battling myself internally, and decided that I was more than equipped to handle using recreationally.

That was the beginning to my end.

Just a few months later, I was “late”. Honestly, I thought it was due to the amount of Cola I was consuming. Except, then I took a pregnancy test, three total actually, and they all said the same thing … “Pregnant”.

I had terminated a pregnancy my senior year of high school, which was extremely emotional given how much we really cared about each other. At the time, we were willing to admit neither one of us was ready. Nevermind the fact that the universe was sending us all sorts of signs that it wasn't the right decision for us or a baby. My partner was kicked out of college at his orientation for #possession, and I really wanted to start over somewhere far away. I took my liberties, and I flew ... to Arizona. And there I was again, pregnant.

After reading all the tests that said positive for pregnancy, I showed up at James’ apartment. He was cooking cola on the stove with the hope of “making crack”. I threw the #pregnancy tests at him. I was angry about what he was doing, and I was angry about his lack of attention to me when I walked in. I got straight to the point, with the roommates present, “I’m pregnant. You have two choices, because I’ve already made the decision to keep the baby – you can stand next to me and we can do this together or you can step away and I will do it on my own. But I need a #commitment either way.”

He committed to doing this together. He agreed to quit selling drugs, and reminded me that we would no longer be going to nice dinners, taking joy rides on motorcycles, or staying in nice hotels with pools we could take advantage of in the heat. I understood. I knew our best chance at being successful in our relationship and as parents, meant giving up the things that put us at risk of hurting our child, no matter what bells and whistles came with them. I didn’t see that our habits were also hurting ourselves.

James made it clear, he was excited and he was absolutely not going to be the parent his were.

I had no clue what I was doing. And I certainly had no clue with how to deal with James as a life partner. But I believed him, because I wanted to believe him and in order to survive at that point I needed to believe him. There was no reason for me to rationally think, "there is hope for us as a family", yet, I never stopped telling myself that day after day.

"People prefer the comfort of illusion over the discomfort of reality."