healing

Outside Looking In – Jodell

/ Revolution.07 / 3 Comments

Blog - Jodi - Josh 2.jpg

When you stand on the other side of watching someone steering their life into oncoming traffic in slow motion – painful is an understatement. Imagine watching your parent, child, best friend or spouse play russian roulette. You know at some point, the bullet will fire from one of the chambers – it’s just a matter of if they quit before it does. While you know the ultimate outcome, they grin and continue on – willing to gamble.

This is what it can feel like when you stand and watch someone unravel at the seams as they continually pull the trigger – or – pop another pill, snort another line, smoke another joint, chug another glass or fill another syringe. You can’t understand why aren’t they just fixing it, why can’t they see it, why would anyone in their right mind feed themselves poison and consume it willingly?! It’s a slow motion horror film.

Jodi and I have had countless conversations regarding this as years have passed and it’s also something that has been a hot topic within my own family. I don’t know if there is such a thing as a “right” or “wrong” answer. I don’t know if it’s possible to save another, or if continuing to enable or cutting ties is best. Or, at what point it’s enabling and what point it’s handing them the bullet and placing it in the correct chamber for them. I do know that these entries, from cancer, to addiction to eating disorders (stay tuned;) ) have brought to light the many facets of disease and the choices we make with them. Sometimes knowingly engaging in what could very well be their quickest way to death, sometimes holding out for anything and everything to avoid it. Disease can eat at us in ways we didn’t know possible, in ways we’ve never identified with before, or taken the time to consider how closely related they truly are. This entry builds off of Joshua’s – showing what the view from the outside looking in can look like. And, as always, it isn’t always as it seems.

Thank you Jodi for reminding me that “right” or “wrong” isn’t always that easy – that love looks different in many realms. Sometimes that means engaging, sometimes it means letting go – despite the pain. But it almost always means trusting – trusting that they’ll come through it when, and as they are willing or need too. Trusting that they remember that help is available when they’re truly ready. Trusting that as the stigmas vanish with time, this will open up new doorways of conversation, lessening the need for division and lack of hope and resources.

Your stories are the exact ones the world is needing to hear right now – the realness, rawness and truth behind them, in what seems like a fake, false and untruthful world right now! To hear what may have felt like failure, only to rise and overcome the darkness – these are the things we need more of going through our news feeds. Thank you for sharing your personal story! 🙂

Describe your and Josh’s relationship growing up…at what point did that relationship begin to change?

My brother was one of my best friends growing up, we are only 16 months apart. We were average country kids, always four wheeling, riding bike, hanging out under the bridge on I-90, and jumping off the house! (Yeah, we actually did that for fun, when you live in the country you have to be more creative!) Granted, we had our typical sibling fights, but most of the time we had a lot of fun! In high school we would go to the same parties and we hung out with the same group of friends. It was so much fun to have him there, I always felt like I never had to worry about things much because he was always there. He was always, in my eyes, was someone that everything came easy to him – national spelling bee champion in middle school, extremely smart, and athletic. The kind of guy that others would be jealous of! I know I was, I struggled with math in school (still do!) and it just comes so easy for him. I would study so hard and he didn’t even show up to class and he’d still pull good grades.

Looking back, everything that we did – involved partying – I guess that was just the “norm” for a small town. Once we graduated high school I moved to the Twin Cities and then to Mankato. Josh was a bit of a wanderer and always seemed to show up where ever I lived and I loved to have him there because he was always the life of the party! It did, however, start to change.

He couldn’t keep a job, began to get DUI’s and was always in trouble with the law – which, in time, meant that every time he would call or stop over, I knew that he wanted something. I would let him stay or give him money – whatever I could do; he was my brother and that’s what family is for – right? I was kicked out of an apartment because he kept coming in through the window and kicked out of the bar I worked at for fighting. It was hard to not be able to have my brother even come in while I was working, so I begged the owner to give him another chance – but that didn’t last long. He went from being the life of the party to the one who usually ruined the party. In the beginning when people would ask are you Josh’s sister I would love to say “yes”, because it usually followed with “man I love that guy, he is so funny!” followed by a crazy story about him. But, that also changed with time – it became, “Oh man I can’t believe that you are his sister – that guy is fucked up or he owes me money.” I have watched him get his head bashed into a metal step by three guys, get his face smashed into a curb, seriously countless fights – too many to even remember. He had an attitude where he honestly didn’t give a shit – fearless was an understatement.

Did you always know there was a true “problem”? At what point did you realize this was bigger than recreational and fun? What were signs that made you aware he was using?

Josh was in treatment for drinking the first time when he was about 14. I, of course didn’t think it was a problem, because even at that age, it was just the “norm”. Even when we were in our 20’s, he had been getting pretty bad and was in trouble with the law countless times, didn’t even have a licence or a job for years – I still thought this is just something that he will out grow. The drug use always seemed recreational from my stand point as well. He would say that he could quit whenever he wanted. He would smoke weed but decided he didn’t really like, which then led to cocaine, then ecstasy. I still thought it was just something that would pass – no one ever says “I want to be an addict when I get older” – so I just figured it would stop. The drinking kept getting worse and with that, so did the drugs. I knew he had a full alcohol problem when he was in his early 20’s but I also knew that he wasn’t ready to change. By this time he had been in treatment several times. We had countless family days were my mom, dad and I would go and leave thinking “this is the time it is going to work” but it never did – it just kept getting worse. There were so many times I would have to go pick him up and he had no idea where he was or how he got there and he was usually driving on a revoked license. The last time he was in treatment I thought this might be the one that sticks.

He had picked up some hitch hackers on 35 and ended up at my camper in clear lake, IA. I told him staying there wasn’t an option, but Josh was so messed up I didn’t know what to do. So, I gave him some food hoping they would eat because god knows the last time either of them had. They went to a state park a couple of miles from our campground and continued to party. I don’t know what they were taking but Josh had his usual liter of vodka almost gone, looking for more alcohol. We got into a fight and I told him to leave, but when he left – he was so messed up he thought he was taking the road but went right through the playground. There were kids playing and he was within a few feet of hitting a child that was coming down the slide. It all seemed to be happening in slow motion. I ran after him as well as many others, but he didn’t stop – he didn’t even realize that he did that. It was the worst feeling I have ever had in my life – watching him come so close to possibly killing someone, none the less a child! The next day he called and said he needed help. My dad and I took him to the Fountain Center once again, on the ride I told him about what happened and he just cried and screamed, telling me not to talk about it – he didn’t want to know! See the thing is, my brother is one of the best guys you will ever meet, with one of the biggest hearts so the thought of this possibility would have destroyed him – my whole family in fact. They said his blood alcohol level was so high he should be dead. These scenarios were countless – things like this just kept happening on repeat.

At one point, he was in an alcohol induced comma, when we got to the hospital, they advised us to prepare ourselves to say good bye to him. Miraculously, he woke up and 3 days later was out of the hospital and the first stop was the liquor store. This would not be our last trip to a hospital with him either. His heart has stopped completely three times and had OD’d on heroin twice (that I know of). To be honest I don’t know why he is still on this earth with us. I knew he had a drinking problem and his use in coke and ecstasy had increased but it hadn’t crossed my mind he could die from it…. As horrible as it may be to say, I wasn’t overly concerned with coke and x, as they are hard drugs, but it was something that a lot of other people I know did. I guess I thought he’d get bored with it, well did he ever get bored with it – that is when heroin and meth came into his life. These drugs are something that truly come out of the depths of hell and will rip anything that you love about a person right out of them. They become unrecognizable. For everything that we had been through with Josh and drinking – I found myself now saying, “I wish it was just drinking again”.

What was it like to watch him deteriorate or delve deeper in the addiction? What did his behavior consist of during this time?

It is honestly like watching someone slowly kill themselves and that is exactly what he was doing and it was even harder to know he didn’t care. We lost several close friends in high school to suicide and Josh knew the pain that brought, so he promised he would never, although I know it crossed his mind several times. This was just as bad as losing someone though because I did lose my brother. Every time the phone would ring or my mom would send a message saying ‘call me right away’ my heart would sink. It was never ending – just waiting for the news to come that he was gone. He had completely changed – my big hearted brother was no longer. He didn’t care about us; he treated his druggie friends better than he did his own family. He was always combative and would fight with my parents. I told Josh I would never forgive him if something happened to them during one of their fights. He wouldn’t listen to any of us – there was so much anger in him. You couldn’t even talk to him anymore, he cared about drugs and that was it. I had no idea if I would ever see the Josh that I loved again.

Did you want to help him more or realized you needed to distance yourself when this happened?

I had tried for years to help him. I would always be there when he called; I would give him a place to stay, money, and food whatever he needed. It affected my relationships too. There were many times I was told ‘it’s your brother or me’, or, ‘this has to stop’. How do you stop it though when you love someone and you just want to help them? How do you live with the guilt if something were to happen? I was with him for years side by side having fun, drinking and partying, so now that you have an addiction and I don’t – I’m not going to help you? I ask myself over and over why this all happened to him. Why not me? Alcohol was a big part of my life but it didn’t take me on this downward spiral. Why did it happen to him? He could’ve been anything and done anything – he is so intelligent and loving.

I have so much guilt still to this day that I should’ve done more, I should’ve stopped it, or I shouldn’t have partied with him so much. It took me a long time to start saying “no” to him but I finally did. I had to cut him from my life. I knew when he would call and I started to say no it was going to be bad and it broke my heart! He would call and ask for money or buy him vodka and he would yell and say horrible things, which led to me crying every time I got off the phone with him. I lost my brother……..he was gone.

My parents and I started to fight over this too. They would always bail him out anytime he was in jail, they’d give him money, they let him live at their house without working – it was just years of drinking and doing drugs. He had no respect for my parents or their house. I can’t even tell you how many drug deals and users that he would bring over to my parents because they wouldn’t do anything about it. They were completely enabling him and his addiction. I know why they did it. I can’t imagine having your child out on the streets not knowing if he was going to live. But I kept telling them that by letting him stay there with no concerns of shelter or food they were now killing him. I know it is really harsh to say but my brother was dying in my parent’s basement in front of their eyes and they were allowing it.

What did his mindset consist of when he was using, what emotions did that trigger in you?

His concept of reality was gone. Trying to talk to him was next to impossible. The things that a person would consider horrible were no big deal to him. He has two beautiful daughters and he thought he was being a great dad to them because he was “around”. He loves his girls more than anything but even that love couldn’t stop him from using and his mind was so warped that he thought he was giving them everything that they needed. When in all actuality, he was high all the time with them, yes, he was physically there but it wasn’t an environment for children to be raised. One of the last times I talked to him – my best friend from high school, who loves Josh like her own brother, was home . We ran into him while we were out and she was so happy to see him, even though he wasn’t the Josh that she loved. She asked him how he could live like this and he laughed and said “are you kidding me…..me – live like this!?!? I have never been happier in my life – you two are the ones who are phoney and living a horrible life!” It went on and on and he finally left because the fighting just continued. That was a moment when I felt there is no way that the Josh I knew is ever coming back. How in the world could someone who was high on heroin at the time, have no place to call his own for him or his girls, not a dime in his pocket, not have even the slightest clue where he was going to sleep for the night or ever give his kids the life they deserve – EVER say that he was happy?! His whole outlook on life was gone….he was gone.

Was it hard to see the potential in someone, and know what they could be – but unable to teach or show them their own self-worth?

I wish that Josh could have seen what everyone saw in him. Like I said, he was the one that most would have loved to be; loving, smart, funny, good looking and so caring. The thing about all of this is, is this is how we all perceived him from the outside. When in all actuality, he had extreme anxiety that started when he was very young, so this was his way of gaining self-confidence. I was with him every day, how did I not see this? From the outside, he seemed so confident, had tons of friends and millions of girls that were dying to go out with him! I wish that he would have told me when we were younger so he could’ve gotten the help that he needed so long ago.

What was it like as a spectator from the sidelines? Explain what the highs and lows looked like from the outside and the affect it had on you and your family.

It was emotionally draining not knowing where he was or if that next call was going to be the call that he was gone. I just wanted him to snap out of it and get his shit cleaned up. I don’t know how he lived like that for years and never will. I do know that it is a disease that consumes everything. It is deeper than any of us can even begin to comprehend. It takes everything that you love or care about and throws it away. To the point that your number one concern is where do I get the my next hit? It broke my heart to step away. I told my husband that my brother died, he will never come back. It is a death, a death to a relationship that should last forever. I didn’t have anyone, I felt as though I was an only child now. I would get so jealous and almost mad at my friends that had siblings that they could call just to talk, go shopping with, and have holidays together. It wasn’t fair!!

It was also hard to watch my parents. Like I said they did anything for him. But as things progressed, my Dad started to see that he had to let go too – which made things worse. Josh and him are close but have always seemed to have this underlying issue between them. I think my Dad was just so disappointed because he could see all the potential he had and instead, was throwing it away just as he had watched his own Dad do for years. Watching my Dad and Mom fight over Josh was never easy either. My Mom wouldn’t ever stand firm and the tension that brought to their marriage was almost too much. My parents love my brother more than anything – how do you turn your back on that?

If you had to compare him at his lowest to today – what are the differences? Who and what do you see when you look at him today?

There is no comparison to that person and who Josh is today. He is such a giving person and best Dad, I see how much love he has for his girls and it is almost too much it makes my heart hurt to see him love them so much. He has found faith and that is getting him through this journey. I know that it’ll always be an uphill battle but he has the support of his family and we will be with him every step of the way. He is working and realizes how rewarding that alone can be to, just to have the responsibility of a job and what comes with it. I truly can’t say enough about the man that he is today; every time I think of how far he has come I can’t help but cry. I can honestly say that I have never in my life been so proud of someone before. I talk about him all the time and I love it more than anything! Now when someone says, are you Josh’s sister, I gladly respond…….’YES I AM’!!

I don’t think of my brother as an “addict” – he is a survivor. It was a part of his life but it wont define who he is or who he chooses to become from this point forward. Josh is a brother, friend, father, son, and an all around wonderful person.

What is your take on the Judicial System &/and resources offered to those struggling with addiction?

Our society has a negative look on addicts, as though they aren’t as “worthy” as them – when in fact everyone deals with issues in their life. This just happens to be theirs, so why is the stigma that comes with this widely spread problem viewed as if it’s something that doesn’t deserve the same love and attention that we would give that of a cancer patient? I think the most frustrating part of these years – was the huge lack of long term help and resources. The traditional treatment programs do not work, for Josh anyways. We need to focus on mental and emotional health as much as staying clean. There was more then one point in my brothers life when he came to me and said ‘I am ready I need to go get help now’. For those of you that have dealt with this, know that when they say now it has to be now, because in an hour it could change! I would call millions of places and ask for help and I always got the same answer sorry we are full we have an opening in 3 months will that work!?! No it wont he needs help NOW!

As far as the Judicial system – once you are “labeled” in the courts eyes – there is no helping – they sentence you to jail or a half way house, (which by the way, are just places where you meet more connections!) Josh was first offered heroin when he was at a half way house in St. Cloud. My parents and I left there thinking okay this is it – it’s going to work and 2 weeks later he was gone. My parents got a call at 2 am from Josh, he had been living on the streets for a couple of days and had no where to go, so back they went hopes shattered – not knowing what was in store for them with the years to come!

It is so sad that we have chosen to dismiss the underlying issues that drive addiction, to think that a 30 day program is enough to dig beneath the many layers that have been created. Not only that, but following that short treatment, we put them back into the environment in which they came from – only setting them up for additional failure with even more contacts and no additional long term options.

A note from Josh’s mom, Vicki regarding the difference in who he was versus who he is today….

He has totally turned his life around now and lives it how God wants him too. He feels like he is worth something, has a job now and loves being around his family and he is the best single dad I have ever seen! Our hearts are filled with joy now that we know he is safe and taking care of himself and his family! Now, he talks about how alone he felt and scared all those years he was growing up drinking and doing drugs. He hated his life, even though he let on that he was so happy and didn’t have a care in the world, he now feels relief. He was so miserable he didn’t know what to do other than stay drunk and high, as this masked things from the surface. It seems incomparable to think of that person and the son we have back now! Today we have our son back in our lives full force and it is such a good feeling that he feels good about himself now and has found his place on earth with God. We are so thankful!

Despite where we’re at in life, we can all use additional support, visit www.crisisaverted.org for a complimentary phone call to learn more!

*If you or someone you know is in need of help, here a general site/line to start with to better direct you of resources within your area drugabuse.gov or https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help *

*If any of this resonates with you, or you know of someone it may help who is personally struggling or has family that is, please feel free to share on social media to bring forth awareness and hope, while breaking down stigma around this subject!*

Inside Looking Out – Joshua

/ Revolution.07 / 5 Comments

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“My Name is Joshua Kuhlmann. I am an alcoholic. I am a meth and heroine addict, but only when accompanied by alcohol.” This is how I would’ve identified myself the last time I walked into treatment. I was 39 years old, this was approximately my 9th round of treatment, 2nd round of inpatient. This time I knew it was the last time, I felt it deep within me, I was finally bowing out of this life I became to know and rely on.

For all the thoughts and words that come to mind when we hear words such as “recovering meth or heroine addict” – vulnerable, courageous and inspirational most likely aren’t on the top of many’s list. When actually, those are the words that are deserved for anyone who has succumbed to any type of an addiction, and especially the wrath of harsh substances such as these. To not be able to see your life beyond your next sip or hit, to have your mind so overtaken by something that literally owns and destroys you, as well as every facet of your body and life, is something many more know then society cares to recognize. This is not always what it may seem from the outside looking in, it’s far deeper then that. It’s a world of it’s own that only exists to those caught in it’s darkness – it’s mental illness in another realm – masked by and numbed by a substance. To hear someone’s countless stories of being at the bottom of this barrel for years on end, only to see them a year later, an entirely different and new being – watching them rebuild their life literally one minute, hour or day at a time is quite amazing. To beat the mindset of knowing that at any minute they could go back to any of it with a simple phone call – is inspirational!

Thank you Josh, for not only sharing your story, but teaching and reminding me what the meaning of truly being one’s self looks like. To be forced to function in every single area of your life with total and complete surrender, vulnerability and sobriety is not a task many care to attempt. To be back in the work force, raising children, building and starting new relationships, a home and most importantly rebuilding yourself! Everyone “lives their life”, many never walking down the path of addiction, but few live their lives consciously, always looking to improve themselves, being open and adaptable to change and giving gratitude for the simplest of things the rest of us take for granted. And that is just a few of the great things we can learn from you and all those who have walked this with you. You have so much to be proud of and so much more to look forward too on this new and exciting, while also challenging-in-it’s-own-way journey.

Here is Josh’s story, which will be followed by another entry from his sister, Jodell, who will give us a glimpse of what it was like to stand on the other side, from the outside looking in.

At what age did it begin and were there any underlying reason? What substance did you start with?

It began when I was in elementary school, when my dad passed me a beer to take a swig. There was this feeling of acceptance I got, being “one of the guys”. It was a rush, a relief, as if I was on top of the world, all my problems washed away in that one sip. It was the social norm for my parents to host card parties and sit around and drink, especially in a small town. This was the normal setting I was exposed too, so it didn’t seem foreign to me. From that point forward it slowly, but consistently grew – it planted a seed of acceptance that I didn’t realize would snowball into something far bigger.

Let me just give you a bit of a timeline of what this life looked like. I rang in my 13th birthday smoking weed for the first time, which then led to regular use. At 14 I got what was the first of many minor consumptions. Age 16, my senior year, brought with it my first round of outpatient treatment. Although the drinking didn’t slow, I wanted to be able to participate in football, and this was mandatory in order for me to do so.

I graduated at 17, this just gave me even more time during the day to indulge in partying, with that came regular use of cocaine. I had a great job, I was making good money removing asbestos from homes. At 19 I buy a house, drinking copious amounts of vodka, while feeling daily rushes of regular cocaine use. I can average 2-3 days before crashing. A majority of this great income is spent on sipping, chugging and snorting. One of what will be four DUI’s follows shortly after, along with 3 friends committing suicide. This scares me, but I’m still feeling as if I need these outlets in order to be “social” because my anxiety is so intense. Age 20, I lose my job because I’m not able to function and make it there regularly, but not a huge deal, besides, I’m making enough money dealing. I’m feeling really good about myself, people look up to me and respect me and it fills another void. The reality of my friends deaths start to settle a little too close to home, so I move to distance myself from this, with the hope of going to college and playing football to get my life back on track. This instead turns into more hook ups and even better money selling coke! It’s funny how you say you’ll “never” until you’re standing there doing that “never”. I swore I would never shoot up, but somehow find myself doing just that. This is what my life from age 20-30 consisted of – partying day and night, selling coke, having sex with multiple women – living the high life.

Roughly at the age of 30 I OD’d (for the 1st time) off percocet and oxy, followed by a 3 day coma. I wake up pissed, wanting out, and begging my mom for money to go get another liter. I fractured my spine from having alcohol withdrawal seizures. The realization of this injury from having seizures from withdrawals, is a bit of a scare. So, I decide another round of inpatient treatment is necessary. That followed a half way house, with 60 days of sobriety, only to get kicked out of 2 more half way houses. Another overdose – this time on heroine. I end up enrolling to college, which lands me a $5000 check to live off of and supply my needs. At one point I end up in the Anoka County Courthouse bathroom drinking rubbing alcohol to keep the shakes at bay, with nowhere to go and no clue what my next move will be. This leads me back to parents again. Although I’m working, I meet who becomes my long time girlfriend, who just happens to be a bartender. This works out well considering she supplies my booze stash. She enables me even more, always paying the bills, which allows me to carry on with my lifestyle while she works, in turn I’m caring for her daughter. This works out great, I’m home more at least, out less partying, but still feeding off the toxicity that has always resided between us.

When I’m 32 I’m in the beginning stages of liver failure, noticeably jaundice, with extreme pain. This leads to a week of sobriety after being hospitalized, but corrected itself, only to have repeated itself. This is a realization that the half gallon of vodka is no longer feasible, so I pick up meth, besides it’s a great diet regimen! 😉 After awhile I’m going through an 8 ball of meth at a time just to keep me going. 3-4 years of meth, followed by heroine for a change of pace. It’s like a version of a doctors prescription to alternate between Tylenol and Ibuprofen, except I’m alternating meth and heroine. I wasn’t biased towards one or the other – unlike others – I had friends on both sides of the track. For those few years, I never intentionally slept. I mean I slept, but I never thought “I should go to bed” or “it’s bedtime”. I crashed wherever, whenever, but it was only at that point that I got rest.

At this point I can’t see the light of day, nor do I have alot of motivation to do so, this is just simply my life day in and day out. I am a master manipulator using and abusing anything and anyone that gets me from one hit to the next. While it feels good to feel good, being admired by so many, what I don’t realize, is, I’m being manipulated, used and abused by all around me just as much. So, here I am, feeling on top of the world, only having occasional rising fears of being without my safety nets.

Addiction of choice and why – explain the highs and the crashes – what did it feel like physically, mentally and emotionally.

Alcohol was always a factor, it was the first thing I did each morning and the last thing I did each night. Within a few hours of waking I had the shakes, looking for my next swig of booze – preferably vodka. The drugs weren’t near as important to me as the vodka. Drug of choice would be ecstasy, but isn’t something I did alot of because it was tough to keep the high for extended periods. The booze was my coping mechanism, while the drugs made me feel 10 feet tall and bulletproof, adding to my confidence. As my roommate says heroine was “a warm blanket of amazingness”. You could be getting your head bashed in with a club and think everything was good! But when the vodka was dry – it was instant panic, I was legit scared to think of not having any. I never did the drugs without the booze, to do it sober was actually scary to me. Straight up, uncontrollable anxiety.

How do you think this affected those around you? At the time, did you think there was any ripple effect to your family?

Nope, not at all. I thought I appeared to ‘have it all together’ and someone to be looked up too, and honestly, I was – in that world. Outside of ‘that world’, it was total denial when it was brought up to me, I didn’t think it was anything I couldn’t control.

Turning point in your life – the last straw – the one that started your journey to get to this point.

I think subconsciously, I knew when I was 32, when the realization that the onset of liver failure had begun. That scared me, but instead, I buried myself deeper. Fast forward to 2015, I have 2 warrants out for my arrest due to drug sales after being caught with a wire. After ins and out of what I hope would be a pass back out the door after lack of evidence, my lawyer informs me another county has additional sale charges on me. But, even then, I’m feeding myself lies to keep myself sane. This is the realization that my avenues of escape are looking thinner by the minute and I should probably start prepping myself for a long haul of sobriety, whether prison or long term treatment, I wasn’t getting out this time. I actually tinkered with the thought of taking the 120 months in prison over the option of mandated inpatient for a year.

The real, official turning point is when I’m sitting in the wreck room in jail – I come across the Holy Spirit Handbook. This changes everything. This is literally my “coming to Jesus moment” in a way I’ve never experienced before. There’s this feeling of total and complete peace, calmness and serenity that flows over and through me. And this time, I don’t have an ounce of any substance in me. For the first time in my life, I know I’m going to be OK, and I’m actually excited about being admitted to MN Adult and Teen Challenge. This is the start of a new life I didn’t know was possible, or perhaps wasn’t willing or ready to embrace all those years. It was better then any high I had ever experienced, it was the most peace and comfort I had felt my entire life.

What are some of the biggest challenges you’ve encountered since being sober?

I would have to say keeping my anxiety in check, although nowhere near what it used to be, it still arises, especially in a social setting. Learning to be aware of it and trying to find coping mechanisms to offset it is a work in progress. Another thing that I’ve been trying harder to work on, is learning to focus attention back on myself, doing the inner work required to heal. It’s always been a mindset of blame, pointing the finger outside of me, that I’ve never taken responsibility for my actions. Now I’m trying to learn how to balance things, patience with my kids and family, but especially with myself. Learning how to co-parent while also setting boundaries, recognizing manipulation, being open to feedback without defaulting to blame and just establishing myself. To try and retrain my brain to remember things and be aware without going back into default mode. I started so young, I don’t know that I was ever able to establish myself and my own true identity. I guess that’s the beauty in rebuilding.

What do you think are the biggest problems that come with the stigmas of addiction? What are some missing factors you feel are being overlooked when addressing these issues and the judgement that comes with them, especially in younger kids?

The lack of understanding coming from all angles, especially at home. I told my dad once about my anxiety, (although I didn’t know that’s what it was at the time), the response was along the lines of “deal with it, don’t be a pussy”. But the older generations didn’t discuss their problems, so maybe he didn’t know any other way to respond without thinking something was wrong with me.

I was sitting in jail after my second DUI, flipping through a magazine when I came across a Paxil ad. As I was reading the side effects such as racing thoughts, shortness of breath, restlessness, irritability, or difficulty in public places – I came to the realization that this was me! I am that blue pill – more like I need that blue pill! To realize that other people had these same symptoms was amazing to me, because I thought it was just me! I was so excited about the fact that this pill could help me that I went up and asked the desk clerk to give me some, not realizing it wasn’t that easy.

Another thing people don’t realize, is this isn’t just one set of people or only people of a certain social status engage in substance abuse. I used with plenty of people that came from higher social statuses, kids of doctors and other respectable careers. The stigma that only people that come from crap households or poverty level use substances to cope, couldn’t be farther from the truth! And yet we were viewed as the “scum” or “losers”.

Sometimes I wonder if I had known or learned to cope better with my anxiety if I wouldn’t have went to other substances to rid myself of these feelings that in fact were normal to many. Sometimes I think my parents should have just left me sit in jail the first few times I was in, maybe it would’ve changed my mindset. Instead it just enabled and reinforced my behavior, knowing they’d come to my rescue when I got caught again. But, I guess it’s hard to say for sure, either way, this was how it unraveled for me.

Has it changed your path or purpose in life since? Do you feel you endured it for a reason and are meant to do something with it?

Absolutely. I’ve lived my life unknowingly being so selfish, only worrying about myself, but now I know it has nothing to do with me. I realize it was all fake and false before, even looking back – there were so many odd things that happened that lined up in my favor – that redirected me. My life resides in Christ, which in turn out flows into everyone around me. The fact that I’m alive is evidence in itself of what my life purpose is. No one endures what I did and almost dies that many times for nothing. It’s all part of a bigger plan.

There is no denying that overall substance abuse, especially in meth and heroine are on the rise – what do you think are significant contributing factors to this problem?

Prescription pills are a big factor. Although this wasn’t a direct reflection in my case, I do hear of prescription pills being a sought out source, it seems common within the treatment world. They’re fairly easy to get a hold of. As far as the rest, I don’t know if there’s a certain “go-to” I think it depends on preference or whatever is available.

What and who do you see yourself as now? How would you identify yourself?

I am Joshua Kuhlmann, I am a child of God, saved by Jesus Christ. I know what the highest of highs feels like, along with the lowest of lows – simultaneously – from trying to catch a buzz in a courthouse bathroom to sitting in a jail cell reading the Lord’s word. I have done alot of shit, seen alot of shit – but I am truly grateful for every part of my journey. Because I know what it’s like to stand on that side, and I look forward to spending the remainder of my life standing on this side, helping others in their journey of recovery!

Despite where we’re at in life, we can all use additional support, visit www.crisisaverted.org for a complimentary phone call to learn more!

For more entries regarding personal stories surrounding addiction, check out Ron’s story.

*If you or someone you know is in need of help, here a general site/line to start with to better direct you of resources within your area drugabuse.gov https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help *

*If any of this resonates with you, or you know of someone it may help who is personally struggling or has family that is, please feel free to share on social media to bring forth awareness and hope, while breaking down stigma around this subject!*

OUT of the darkness, means bringing LIGHT to it.

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blog-otd-walk-collageIf there’s one thing I hope this blog does for all who stumble across it is, to offer a sense of hope. To bring light to conversations, emotions, thoughts and struggles that so many of us face on a daily basis, but are often too fearful to bring up at the supper table. This is many people’s real life, whether it’s disease, finances, addiction, divorce, or death – these topics are too many people’s traumas and tragedies. While some have been able to triumph over these road blocks, there are still many stuck, unable to see outside of their current circumstances. These are conversations, that until we start having them – aren’t going to go away. Every change must first begin with awareness. I am hoping that this will shed some light and awareness on many different topics and emotions that I think more people will be able to resonate with, at some point in their life, then not. My hope is that this is the beginning of many more conversations to come within your life, ones with rawness, vulnerability, empathy and compassion. May this be the planting of new seeds of awareness, as well as hope in each persons life that comes across this, may you know you aren’t alone in your struggles and that the light always follows the darkness, so please – hold on.

I had the to opportunity to speak at our community walk this weekend, Out of the Darkness. This walk is to promote awareness and education, as well as support to the conversation of mental illness and suicide. This is something that no matter what – is just a heavy event, it’s really hard for it not to be, as these are heavy topics that come with heavy feelings and emotions surrounded by them. I really wanted this years talk to be different then I had done in years’ past, I wanted it to be general but specific, acknowledging all who were there and their stories, honoring whatever current stage they were in on their journey – but also bringing forth a lighter note  as well.

This is something that I want to include as an entry because for most of us standing at this event, we already knew all too well what standing on the other side of this hell feels like, carrying the guilt of not seeing the signs or being more proactive, the heart wrenching fact that they felt so isolated, empty and sad to be able to continue on is something we know all too well and it’s something that brings us to tears every time we think of what they endured and what it took for them to follow through. But the point isn’t just for those of us that now fit under the category of ‘suicide survivor’, it’s something that people need to be aware BEFORE they hit that point. It’s something that needs to be talked about MORE in homes around the supper table, no matter how uncomfortable that can be. The words “suicide” and “depression” need to be used more often, so that they roll off the tongue as easily as “pizza” and “sunshine”.

I’d like to share my story, to hopefully shine some light on this subject, as well as promote more light on such a dark and heavy subject. And I hope you’re willing to share this, to bring forth light to others as well – for you never who many stumble across it that may be in need of it.

” I, like most of you here, am a survivor of suicide after losing my sister Josie to a losing battle of clinical depression in 2007. It wasn’t until after that day that I was forced to feel the depths of the valleys in which she, and many others have walked. Through those years of darkness and fog I endured the sobering truth of what standing on this side of not only mental illness feels like, but what carrying the heaviest burden of all feels like – guilt.

We all stand here in different parts of our journey, ranging from months to years, with different stories. From veterans unable to co-exist in a world that had become foreign to them upon returning from the damage that couldn’t be undone, to those who had side effects to medications that forced them in the opposite direction of the intent of that medication, to an impulsive decision with what may have seemed like the only last piece to the puzzle, to just being sick and tired of attempting to fight what seemed like a losing battle through the darkness.

The details that go along with our loved one’s story, the aftermath for all of us standing here, is one we wouldn’t wish upon anyone. The reverberation that suicide generates, despite your stage in the grieving process, is all too familiar. To feel as if there were no other way out aside from this, to be so enveloped and suffocated in a deep and dark place is something that no individual should ever have to endure.

There isn’t a prerequisite needed in order to fall under this hush hush category, as we have seen that money nor fame can buy happiness or make you invisible from this crippling disease. From famous people such as Kurt Cobain and Robin Williams, to the ever growing numbers, especially in teens, due to the pressures of the world around them, to adults due to financial, work, home and relationship stressors and lack of facilities and treatment options. Simply being unable to talk about it in public, even in our own homes because we have made it taboo and an uncomfortable topic, and some just honestly not knowing how to respond. It almost always comes back to the feeling of being isolated and alone.

A large contributing factor for this being the third leading cause of death is the sheer lack of hope in so many. The feeling that others can’t relate, or that you’re the only one enduring these thought processes. We are in a time where electronics have silenced us even more, tearing us away from human connection and compassion. We have entered into an era where the world around us seems to get crazier by the day, full of noise and static, opinions, debate and fog – it can be hard to find that light of hope to focus on.

It took me a long time to see beyond those first years of darkness, to gain a different perspective, but I honestly believe that it is up to those of us that have endured the pain of losing someone to this terrible cause of death because we are needed to be the beacon of light through the darkness.

When we begin to break down these barriers of fear and hopelessness, allowing light to stream in through the concrete walls that have barricaded us from each other, we can begin to see that healing can be possible. Perhaps it is then that our loved ones stories can begin to affect and shift the masses in a new way, letting others know that this isn’t the end, that they are supported and loved and that we’re here to help, educate and facilitate. Perhaps it is then that we can help them see through a new lens, one that brightens instead of dims, educates instead of criticizes and one that comforts instead of torments. Although this event is held with heavy hearts as a reminder to those who have taken their own lives, I hope today can also be about remembering to carry on their story, that despite our age, from young to old alike, reminding ourselves that we all have the ability to reach out in ways big and small to help others, to bring awareness to a conversation that has been silenced for far too long and to bring light to others around us, in whatever manner possible. May today be about more than just a reminder of the guilt and sadness that many carry inside, but may it be about reigniting hope and a light into a world that needs it more now than ever. “

**If this resonates with you, please feel free to share on social media in the hopes of helping any who may stumble across it.”

Autopilot

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skyraysoflight9-16We’ve all experienced those moments of life altering, earth shattering pain. The one that forces you into your body, to awaken you from a state of cruise control. It comes in many different forms, at different points in our lives, all on a different scale, having a different effect but it is one that refuses to be anything but felt. At 16, it’s the break up with your first boyfriend, perhaps later a divorce. For a firefighter it’s going to a call only to be forced to watch a family watch their home be devoured by flames, to the EMT it’s responding to a fatal accident. To a soldier it’s pulling the trigger for the first time on another life, or perhaps watching one of his own men being taken by another. It’s the phone call of an unexpected death, the diagnosis of a disease, watching another’s life end before your eyes. It’s watching a child go hungry, die from lack of vaccinations or a fatal disease. It’s losing a job, the function of a body part, or the aftermath of a natural disaster. All of which demand the attention of the human emotions, as if jolted into the current reality, one where time literally seems to stop. The cruise control has been halted, from 60 to 0.

It is that slow drip of water in a pond, watching the ripples flow outward, affecting the mass, but the intensity remains within that first initial drop. A whirlwind of grief and questions, standing there looking at your life from a floor of shattered glass, unsure if it’s even your life you’re viewing. This ‘autopilot’ phase is one that jolts many, but often doesn’t truly affect, on a grander scale, those outward ripples. But, for those moments that the ripple does affect the mass, we reevaluate where we stand in life, how very small we are compared to the rest of this vast universe. We think about our days and how they’ve been spent, acknowledging that we’re truly blessed and fortunate to not have been directly effected by such tragedy. Instead, we make promises to rid our lives of excess baggage that doesn’t serve our evolution, and thank God for all he’s generously provided.
Often times, when we stand in this space, we realize how much of our life has been run on autopilot. How much we missed while going through the motions, only to realize it’s no longer an option to fix or mend, but to let flow through you, realizing the grip you have on this moment is nothing at all. The vulnerability of feeling on a deeper level, tears that won’t stop, anger that fuels, questions that may remain unanswered. It’s a space that for anyone that has ever felt it, never wants to be forced to feel it again, it instills a fear that we want to distance ourselves from as fast as possible. It’s one that never leaves, instead, only lies dormant. Only to return at the time of another reminder that autopilot is the exact place we aren’t meant to be. It’s during these times that we’re forced to reevaluate and question our very existence. Watching another endure such pain, knowing there’s no amount of words, cards or gifts that will replace what they have been or will be forced to feel and endure. It is in these moments, we make temporary promises as we mourn and truly do feel for those directly effected. We swear this is our eye opener, that we’ll become more focused on the things that make us truly happy, instead of the stress of daily life we’ve allowed to weigh us down. Instead of complaining, we’ll be more grateful, instead of fighting, we’ll be more compassionate, instead of blaming, we’ll be more empathetic of another’s viewpoint, instead of being devoured by guilt, we’ll let go of those we’ve allowed to pull us down. Because in these moments we see from a very different perspective, we see how precious and short our time here is, whether that’s 20 years or 80, it goes in a flash nonetheless. But just as quickly as it came, it often leaves. Because for those that aren’t directly affected, life goes on, and autopilot is what we so effortlessly fall back into. Getting wrapped up in our everyday lives of seemingly trials and tribulations, forgetting to pay attention, to feel or wake up from this deep sleep. Until the next ripple hits, reminding us once again that we’re human. These are the moments that are meant to break us, shake us and make us realize that this is our focus, this is a glimpse of what we’re here for, this is when autopilot is off, when we’re planted in our own bodies, grounded and reminded our days are far too short to be spent doing absolutely anything except what brings us joy. And the falsehood that we’ve been fed while on autopilot that this isn’t our truth, is the reason we’re forced to be redirected into what is.

*If this resonates with you, feel free to share on social media**

Noise and Static

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*Disclaimer: Please read at your own discretion. Preferably with an open mind 😉blog-noiseandstatic

I’ll admit I was less then happy when the only thing that would flawlessly flow from my fingertips was the entry “Rock Bottom”.  Now, I’m starting to see why – because it truly is the case for so many people right now, both locally and abroad. I’m a believer that the night is always darkest just before the dawn and that sometimes thing have to crumble in order to be rebuilt, to see it for the greater good and trust where it’s taking us. But that can be a tough one to hold onto as things seem to be progress. It’s hard not to take a look around and wonder what in the f*ck is happening to this world?!  It’s hard to overcome the fear of what’s next and what does it mean?! I think of it on a smaller scale with things happening around me, but it’s much larger then that and I think we’re all aware of that. Humanity as a whole is facing some shit right meow – shit that can’t be denied – shit that needs to be talked about, released and straight up dealt with!

However, I’m struggling with the way it’s being dealt with. In case we haven’t noticed – this blame game isn’t getting us anywhere. Whether it’s blaming our parents for a horseshit upbringing, another person for abuse inflicted upon us, the poor for our national debt problem, drugs/alcohol/addictive substances, Monsanto for poisioning us with GMO’s, Trump for his hate and discrimination, ISIS for killing thousands of innocent people, my sisters friends mother brother to a cousin for who the hell knows what – it seems to boil down to blame in some form! It comes down to pointing the finger in every direction except our own – and I’m more then guilty of this as I blame my addiction on sugar for the reason I’ve gained so much weight! ha

I’m not by any means trying to undermine what is happening around us, or the lives that have been directly affected by any of the above. This is real shit on every single level – and I’m grateful every day those aren’t my family members or friends that are directly affected by this violence. But, I feel that I need to attempt to try and put a different spin on what is happening. Hands down the most common mistake we all make, I’m just as guilty as anyone, is forgetting to stop and attempt to see things in a different light – from a different vantage point.

I’ve seen multiple posts, but have not, nor have any desire to watch the videos on who is claiming what or which side, I do not have any desire to watch someone gasp for air after he’s been shot, despite the reasoning behind it. I especially don’t have any desire considering there’s a little girl in the back seat, who’s life has been forever changed. So, I’m not going off of facts here and I’m not siding with one over another, I’m simply viewing this from some of the few opinions/responses I actually read. So, here are some questions I have that I’m just going to throw out there.

Question #1

Have you ever drank under age? Have you ever smoked weed? Have you ever done an illegal substance or drug? Have you ever not worn your seat belt? Have you ever driven with any amount of alcohol in your system that could’ve very well been above the legal limit? Have you ever urinated in public? Have you ever rolled through a stop sign?

If you have done any of these, then you too, have broken the law – and I’m willing to bet you’ve done it on more then one occasion. What is the difference between you and someone that has their name put in the paper or face on TV?  They got caught and you didn’t. Period.

Question #2

Have you ever had sex before you were married? Disrespected an elder? Used the Lord’s name in vein? Called another human being a name? Have you ever cheated – in any form, on homework, an exam or your significant other? Have you ever threatened someone’s life or dreamt about it? Despite how big or small – from your parents to your children – no matter how you choose to justify it, have you ever told a lie?

If you have ever done any of these, then you too, have been immoral – at least to the eyes of many, especially according to religious beliefs. What is the difference between you and “them”?

My point here is this (and this is something that I’ve learned within the past year about myself as well) that despite the caliber of bullet, what makes one less deadly then another? The amount that is fired, correct? It takes more rounds of a 22 to do the same damage of a 12 gauge. So, while some have larger weapons, inflicting pain on others in more obvious ways, there are even more people that do it in their daily lives, on a smaller scale. You see, that’s what we do – we all have the ammunition but we fire it differently. Most fire more frequently but because it’s of a less caliber, we can justify it. Why? Because we didn’t get caught, what – because we didn’t kill anyone, or I wasn’t that drunk! It was only 5 mph over the limit. It was just a white lie. I can bring that up because she did this to me in 2nd grade! Oh good, I’ll keep that card in my back pocket for next time he effs up. These are the subconscious things that we think – I know that, because I’ve thought them! I’ll openly admit that! Did I know at the time I thought them, no, probably not, because I self justified it – I felt I was entitled to it – I mean, besides – eff them, they’re crazy anyways, of course my reasoning is right!

Question #3

Have you ever put your life on the line – day in and day out? Have you ever feared walking out the door, never knowing if you’re going to come home to your children? Have you ever had to put on a uniform that made you a target to many? Have you ever had to put on a badge that causes more hate and avoidance, where people openly hate you, calling you a “pig” – taking slurs the same as many different other races do? Do you know what it’s like to love and fear your job all at once – every single day? Do you know what it’s like to be proud to protect your community, but knowing you’re possibly putting your life on the line to protect complete strangers? Do you know what it’s like to have to uphold a certain criteria to do your job, even though you’re fearful of what is happening out there? Have you ever had to show up to a door step to inform parents their child was just killed? Have you ever had to arrest someone and see how that changes their life, good, bad or otherwise? Do you know what it’s like to have to act and react in a split second – never knowing what that reaction may lead too?

I don’t – and I don’t think a majority of you reading do. And that also is unfair to judge! I have never, nor do I ever want too have to make a split second decision to pull the trigger out of fear, only to find out I may not have had the right to do so and cost someone their life. And I don’t care what color of a person that is, that decision is a heavy burden to carry, “right”, “wrong” or otherwise. I also can’t imagine being the spouse or parent of someone in uniform either, especially in these large cities that deal with a large amount of violence, living in fear every single day, wondering if they’re going to walk back through that door to your children. I am however, thankful there are people that are willing to do that for us! I mean one is hated for the color of their skin, another for the uniform they wear?

Question #4

Have you ever slammed on your brakes the minute you realized the car you’re about to approach is a cop, even though you knew you weren’t speeding? Have you ever either felt the need to smile and be especially nice to someone in uniform? Or, feel your blood pressure rise being in the same room, even though you know you aren’t the suspect, but feel as if they’re looking at you with suspicion?

Have you ever crossed paths with someone from a different ethnesicity and hugged your purse tighter? Have you ever seen a black man with their pants down with their ass half hanging out assuming they must be a drug dealer? Have you ever thought because they were wearing a veil or hijab they must be a terrorist? Have you ever encountered someone of another color begging for food or scrounging for change and thought ‘typical, on welfare, I’m pry paying for that’.

If any of these thoughts or reactions pertain to you, then that’s stereotyping and racism. The problem is, noone realizes they even do it because it’s something that’s been engrained in us from a child on, whether at home, school, media, friends etc. So although it’s clearly not something we’re aware of on a conscious level, it’s something a majority of us do! And these are a majority of the comments I see and hear and have heard for a long time! All these one liners we’ve deemed as acceptable to throw out there towards certain groups, from police to another religion to another color, to white trash!

Question #5 –

Have you ever done something stupid, ridiculous or foolish? Can you imagine being put under a microscope for it? Can you imagine that one idiotic move costing you your life, whether dead or behind bars? Imagine if every horseshit decision you ever made was held against you, plastered on every news station and thrown back in your face?

I for one have made plenty of mistakes, I’ve passed on the right side of the road, I’ve drank too much and put the keys in the ignition, I’ve drank under age, I’ve had sex before I was married, I’ve called other people inappropriate names, I’ve done alot of things that I’m far from proud of. I’ve had many of them held over my head and I’ve held many over others as well. There are many of these I’m not proud of, and some I am, because I learned something from them. It didn’t cost me my life, I wasn’t forever shamed and abandoned for them, I’m aware of them and attempting to correct them. So, again – do a small tally of your personal ‘stupidity’ and remember, part of this whole human experience is learning, not hating and bashing and further separating. The definition of perfection depends on the eyes of the one defining it, and it varies by a large scale depending!

WHY do we have to side with one or the other?! I mean really, for all the people complaining about I-35 being backed up because of protests, are you doing anything to help or defuse the situation besides sitting behind a screen complaining about it and blasting your opinion all over? That’s another thing we’re taught well to do – hide behind a screen – our children know this even better then we even do, it’s how they’ve been taught to communicate and fight! I mean, at the end of the day – this is a true and legit problem on so many levels, but I just can’t grasp why people think that by constantly screaming and yelling and posting and name calling (even though we’d tell our kids to not do that) that we’re solving anything?!  And whether or not you feel that this particular family deserved it over the next or because of their horseshit parenting skills they had it coming. Or the fact that because they didn’t have a job they were worthless to ‘us’ anyways, gives you the right to justify it, then I guess do whatever you need too to sleep at night. As for anyone still reading this – allow me to put a slight twist on this a little more. To someone (a child – because remember, we were all children at some point, that never asked for the circumstances that we were put into) that grew up in a home with parents as meth addicts and homeless, the fact that the only drug they do is smoke pot, even if it’s around their children, they feel that they’ve improved their life. For those that grew up in physically abusive homes, watching their parents fight to no end, beating each other or their kids – the fact that those kids came out of that home only having alcohol issues, but never touching their own kids, is an improvement from the environment in which they knew. For those that went through the system, being tossed from home to home growing up, never feeling as if they were truly wanted, accepted or loved, the fact that they can hold a part time job is more stability then they’ve ever known. Do you know what the difference between a majority of us (white folk, privileged folk, wealth folk, the middle class, whatever title you want to give us) is alot of us had someone to help us. We had a support system on SOME level, whether it was family, friends, a teacher, a coach, a minister – they had someone, even if for a brief time. Someone that showed them just a little tiny bit of compassion that sparked their fire. This is something that many of us take for granted and something that not alot of people, even people close to you, truly know. That is a privilege.

In conclusion:

Is racism a problem in this country? Yes

Is police brutality a problem in this country? Yessum

Do we need law enforcement to keep us safe since we can’t all just get over ourselves and get along? Yip

Do we need law enforcement next time we or our loved one is in an accident, injured or has a health emergency? Yup

Is law enforcement often disrespected and also stereotyped? Yippers

Do we need more slander against one or the other? Nope

Do we need to feel as though we have to choose a side in order to feel like someone? As if a FB post is going to save the whole damn world and erase what is actually happening and been happening? Nada

I’m not claiming to have the answers to these many messes, I’m really not. I’ve just been trying to think of a way to not join the debate, but attempt to help put things into perspective again, for people to just take a deep breath and remember something more then black or white, in uniform or out, upper class or poverty – at the end of the day – we’re all something to someone, we’re all human, we all have emotions and most are damaged on account of things you can’t even imagine enduring, standing on both sides of the line. So, maybe instead of non-stop judgement and finger pointing we just set aside the fact that yes, there are people, of every race and profession that can ruin it for the mass, for the most part, they’re doing their best, even if it isn’t your best, according to your standards. I’ll be the first to admit this is can be extremely hard to put into play and remember on a daily basis! But, maybe if we just attempt to become more aware of our actions that we put out there and how much they actually align with what we say and preach, we could baby step our way a little closer to peace and calmness. Maybe if we just attempted to focus on one tiny little thing we all may have in common, instead of pointing out the differences so quickly, we’d have more productive conversation. And maybe if those words do get said, like we all tend to do in the moment, we attempt to make them right where we can, while we can.

I’d just like to leave you with this – the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Maybe, just maybe – we can all put down our weapons, whether gripping a loaded weapon, pounding the keys on a keyboard or pointing a finger – and just try something outside of what we’ve always done, which is fight. That’s what we resort too every single time – we feel like we have to have our guard up, armor on – ready to fight. Maybe trying the opposite, just for shits and giggles, might be of more benefit. Just maybe.…

**If this resonates with you, feel free to share on social media**

 

Rock Bottom

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Blog- rock bottom chrome

Have you ever been there – that dark and deserted place, where only one person resides? It’s as if it’s covered with mirrors and despite which direction you turn, the only one you see is yourself – because you’re the only lucky SOB that gets to occupy it. First name Rock, last name Bottom – turns out she’s one deep ass hole! It doesn’t matter how you snowballed your way there, whether by choice, mistake or an outside circumstance that pushed you, the point is – you’re there. Many people have occupied this space, sometimes you’re aware of it, sometimes you’re not. the odd thing for me was, I didn’t see anyone there while I was on my trip! Perhaps because I was lucky enough to hit it at Mock 90 and had crashed and burned without even realizing it.

It’s like the morning after a tequila bender, waking up foggy, wondering where you are and who’s laying next to you and fuzzy on the details as to how they got there. Pfff – don’t act like you’ve never been there 😉

 It’s as if I was standing there seeing stars – not even realizing I was actually there. As I look up, I see all the amazing people in my life rooting for me – some cheering, some praying, some blowing kisses, some giving pep talks – but all there, patiently waiting for me to find my way out. And as I look up I want so badly to be where they are – but it seemed as if it was thousands of miles out of reach. Although I saw the light that they were standing in, the darkness that surrounded me didn’t come close to that speck. It was so fucking black – and even more scary – wandering around, stumbling over every thing possible, just to have made an exact circle right back where I started.

I dabbled in multiple medications, from cholesterol meds to antidepressants, narcotics to amphetamines – some worked great while others propelled me into insanity even faster! I loved vodka (ok, fine… I still do)  but I loved it to the point of oblivion every single night I didn’t have my daughter. I smoked more cigarettes in my 15 years of smoking then most do in 30, if it were cocaine, I would’ve been out of control. Give me an escape and I’d get lost in it – bury myself in it. I can’t imagine, if piled up and set in front of me the amount of cigarette butts, booze and medication bottles that would surround me! They served me, and they served me well for quite awhile. They were as close as I was going to come to a “fix” while in survival mode. And despite the people on the sidelines still cheering for me, I couldn’t clear my mind to see outside of the current circumstance I was in. There was an emptiness, a hollow hole that rested inside of me while I tangoed in the depths of rock bottom – one that could only be filled with temporary forms of satisfaction – anything and everything that sat outside of myself. Grasping – always grasping – for the next night out, the next guy, the next set of meds, the next cigarette – hoping eventually one of them was going to fill the void – fix meeee! Whether I was in a relationship or not, trashed or sober, feening for my next drag or inhaling a nice long one of a Marlboro – it was still there, perhaps to a less degree because I was preoccupied, but it hadn’t left – and it wouldn’t leave until I faced it.

To be honest, I had no idea what in the hell I was supposed to be facing! Perhaps I needed to modify my mannerisms, learn to be less insecure, maybe if I quit drinking, met “Mr. Right”, (which let’s be real, he could’ve been standing next to me the entire time and I wouldn’t have known), quit smoking, exercised more, had a flatter stomach, more toned arms, learned to be softer and less rough around the edges, learned how to do more ‘right’ things and less ‘wrong’ things  – maybe then, I would inch away from the bottom. Well, turns out I tried them all – and to a degree, it did inch away from me – but there was still this “dead space” within me that all these things couldn’t fill.

How many medications does one need to numb the sadness, hate and emptiness? How many bottles or nights out? How many cigarettes? How many men? How much masking? How much faking? How much does it take before you stop to reevaluate – just to realize the only thing still standing between me and that mirror, is – well…… you! It was me – all along – the one I was running from, blaming and hating, using the temporary forms of satisfaction, swearing the next thing was going to ‘fix’ me, ‘fix’ him, ‘fix’ them, ‘fix’ that, ‘fix’ it – and here I was. Right where I had always been – standing in a room full of mirrors, screaming for help – just to realize the only one that was capable of it was me. That was a bitch of a realization, one that – to be honest – I had little to no interest in ever facing!

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Waiting Game

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Blog Waiting Game 2

As I reflect on what this blog has brought forth thus far, discussing, writing, feeling and ultimately ending 2 major eras in my life, I try and envision which of those 28 drafts I’d like to proceed with next. 28 arrows, all pointing to different directions and I keep getting a ‘hold’ sign. So, welcome to draft #29! Some have nothing but a title, some are started, and some are a hodge podge – but none seem to be flowing or coming together. Some call it ‘writers block’ but I keep getting this ‘not yet’ feeling – on all 28 of em! here I sit in front of a blank piece paper to see where #29 will lead me!

We’re currently on summer break and it’s a toss up around our house as to who is generally more ready for this break, my daughter or myself! By May, I’m just as checked out, (if not more checked out) of the school jazz as she is. It’s as if since the dust of another school year has settled, I’m just an observer of life, my own as well as others – just reflecting on what has come and went. I look at my daughter has who has ‘graduated’ or ‘survived’ another year of middle school. And I think, did I enjoy it? So many of those days were mundane with repetition, of constantly reminding, (more like barking) “Come on, hurry up, get your math out” just to say “uh, you’ll have to wait until I can sit down and look at it with you” (as it turns out – I’m not smarter then a 5th grader, especially in Math!) “Hurry up and eat – you have basketball practice, did you get your reading done?” “Get in the shower – you need to get to bed!” Just so we can wake up and do this all over again, aren’t you so excited – because I sure know I am! 😉 All the while I’m secretly counting down the days until MEA, then Christmas break, then Easter break, then finallyyyyyy summer! I get this picture of waiting in a long check out line, while the cashier keeps yelling ‘NEXT!’ What’s ‘next’ on the list? Which subject, which meeting, which sporting event and where, which conference, which family get together?   NEEEEEXT PLEASE!

Now we’re able to just sit back and relax, and actually enjoy each other and life before we head into what I’m sure will be even busier years ahead! There’s this part of me that’s always trying to figure how to simplify it – putting it into action seems to be the struggle! Instead of literally checking the days off the calendar, always thinking (and sometimes telling her)’just make it till Friday or it’s OK, 2 weeks left till break, just get through it’. I attempt to just pause in the midst of the insanity to just look at her while she’s eating or sleeping – just to make a mental note. But there are times even when I do, that I feel as if I can’t totally enjoy it without another app in the back of my mind reminding me that the dishes need to be done. Then, we make it to summer break with a sigh of relief and I find myself reflecting, thinking next year, I’m not going to push as much, I’m not going to make a big deal out of that Math test or whether she meets standardized testing scores. I’m not going to hint that maybe trying another sport wouldn’t hurt, or that she needs to have her head in the game when she’s on the court. These are things we’ve all been engrained to think are important. That without tip top grades, an ‘above standards’ on testing or trophies while being in multiple sporting events, we’re no one. Without a tightly wound schedule, an electronic device within arms reach or a sleep over, we simply don’t fit in. How often do we say ‘no’ to the chaos just to teach them a new board game, veg out together or go for a hike or bike ride and have ‘those’ important conversations in the silence?

Instead we wait – we wait for another break, for a different weekend that maybe there won’t be 100 things going on, or they won’t want friends over. We wait until they’re a little bigger to do this activity, until they’re a little older to have this conversation. And all this waiting leads to another season passed, another week that we ‘survived’, another school year gone. Always waiting for another time, a better day, when life ‘slows’ down. And yet we never allow it, or force it to slow down, perhaps because we don’t want it too? Perhaps when it slows, things come into focus and what if those ‘things’ aren’t all that pretty when in focus? What if when we slow down we’re forced to come to terms with the fact that we’ve aged, our kids are growing too quickly, our parents aren’t as mobile as they were before, our marriage isn’t what it used to be – then what?

I spent so much time engulfed in hurt, anger and drama. I look back at those years and think – God did I enjoy any of it? Did I appreciate it, was I grateful? Did I stop to pay attention to the simple things? Did I ever stop to watch the sunset in complete silence, without getting out my phone to take a picture of it? Did I say ‘thank you for this moment and view?’ Did I allow my mind to shut off or declutter a little every day? Did I stop and look around – really look around? That’s one thing I’ve noticed more then anything this spring – I swear the grass has never been as green as it has this year! I swear the fields never looked so nice and the contrast of the brown and the green wasn’t as prevalent. I swear the sky has never been so blue or the clouds so white and fluffy. I swear I’ve never seen a storm come in with such darkness against the blue like that! I swear I’ve never pointed out as many sunrises and sunsets to my daughter as I have in the past year, to the point there are days she notices them before I do. And then I think – I’m sure the grass has always been that green, the sky always that blue, the fields always so nicely planted –    I’ve just never taken the time to notice.

We’re all so caught up in the noise and the static of the daily hustle and bustle, consumed in it, really – rarely pausing, let alone stopping to look around. Meeting the demands of work, school, parents, spouses, children, deadlines, a schedule, always running – never stopping to just take it all in. Not showing our kids what that looks like – to breathe – to look up – to just sit in the silence – to learn contentment in the basics of everyday life. It’s a disappointment that it takes a ‘vacation’ to sit in these simple reminders. I get frustrated that it takes these moments of reflection, or slowing down of ‘we made it, because we had to wish it away’ to be reminded of how often I don’t exercise it in my daily life, during the hustle and bustle. After Josie I swore that was all going to change – I swore it was going to slow down and I was going to learn to do it differently, because I was never going to live with regret like that again. Not towards another, nor towards my own life. And here I sit – trying to figure out how to mesh it all together – slow it down – appreciate it – be it – love it – balance it. So it doesn’t take a vacation , diagnosis or tragedy to have to reflect on another year gone. When I find it I’ll let you know, for I know that I will with time – and for anyone who already has – I’m open to pointers for a faster route to get there 😉

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Siblings Tribute – Jamie and Kristy

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kristy collage 2

Brynn and Jamie both sent me their responses to the entry on the same night. It was quite astonishing how many similarities there were between their stories. Although the response has been overwhelming in regards to the tributes, it saddens me to know how many people can truly relate to this heartbreak. Either by enduring it themselves or watching someone close to them endure it. It’s painful in all realms, each in their own way. But at the end of the day, our hope is that those reading this have a greater sense of hope in knowing they aren’t alone in their grief, their support or their fight.

*Disclaimer: A box is tissues is recommended – you’ve been warned! 😉

You and your sister (names, background, ages)- who were you both pre-diagnosis?

My name is Jamie (Puetz) Groebner, I was 29 years old when my sister Kristy Puetz was diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer at the age of 37, she fought a miraculous 9 years before passing away by my side on February 21st, 2014 at 4:15 am at the age of 46.

Who were we??  Very stubborn red heads, always looking for a good time!!                  Growing up with 8 years between us, we fought about everything… she was in charge of me a lot since my parents both worked outside the home.  When she was mad at me she would often pinch my cheeks together with her thumb and pointer finger.  I hated it. I usually ran from her, down the street to John Deere where my dad worked as a parts manager, crying my eyes out with sore cheeks. I knew he would let me stay with him until he was off.

As we grew older, we found out fairly early on in our friendship that we did a lot of the same things regardless of the fact that we lived miles apart.  We liked the same music, we sang with emotion in the car, we were passionate about our friends and their lives.  We were social butterflies at heart – we loved to plan a party, loved to be the life of one, and couldn’t wait to hit a happy hour somewhere! And it wasn’t for the fact of getting drunk, it was because being with our friends and laughing was so uplifting and we loved that! We loved making memories with our family & friends.

What battles (disease, metastasis, how many times in remission/relapse) did she endure and for how long?

I worked in the Baldwin Building at Mayo Clinic Rochester at the time of her diagnosis. My supervisor at the time seemed so cold hearted by not allowing me to go to Kristy’s appointments. That day when my pager went off, I picked up my phone and instantly could hear the gasps in Kristy’s voice when she paged me, through crying gasps she breathed the words cancer; and I immediately went into panic mode, I left work and ran down to the second floor to the room she was in with our family physician. I told no one where I was going because at that time none of it mattered, I just needed to be with her. The search began the next day to find the primary tumor. It felt like time stopped after days of invasive tests and biopsies, she was diagnosed with Stage 4, Grade 3, Epithelial Ovarian Cancer. The tumor had grown the size of a cantaloupe on her ovary in her abdomen. Our family hit rock bottom once we were given the grim news. Surgery was planned for March 10th, 2005.

I think back to the morning of surgery. At the time, my husband Ryan and I were living in Mazeppa.  Kristy and I talked on the phone most of that evening, as she packed.  I met my parents and her at the hospital the next morning, and immediately started taking pictures of her because at that time, her Oncologist told her she had maybe a year, if not less to live.  I started documenting everything that day. The updates, the calls, the pacing, I remember that feeling of my stomach turning inside out, sort of the way it feels writing this, complete torture. The worst part – I had to attend a mandatory meeting with HR at work or I risked losing my job. In the middle of that meeting I started crying, I couldn’t believe I was sitting there and not with my family. I said something along the lines of ‘while all of you are worried about who’s doing what at work, my sister is in surgery’, (I may have said a few other not so appropriate words as well) but I was so upset. I walked out, ran back to Methodist hospital, thinking for sure I was going to lose my job.

I just made it back to her room when the resident surgeon came up to talk to us. They opened Kristy up from sternum to pelvic bone and searched through her entire cavity to make sure they got as much cancer as possible. My first reaction was to hug her, that’s when the tears fell. My parents and brothers were there, each of them walked away engulfed with their own emotion.  We heard the elevator chime… I can still see her rolling down the hall at 6pm. She was so swollen, the largest I’ve ever seen her, all of it fluid. We were warned she would look like this, however it was so hard to see her look so different, (in the operating room they inverted the bed to help with the positioning of her intestine so they could work on detecting all of the cancer) little did we know this would be the new norm of her many hair and body changes.

I started talking to her right away, telling her I loved her, and that they got it all… I’ll never forget her eye opening just a little and tears fell… she heard me loud and clear. That night I slept in a chair, not a recliner although I wished for one, it was a wooden desk chair, but I kept telling myself, the pain I feel from getting a bad night’s sleep is nothing compared to what she is going through.

The next day I asked for a bigger room and by the third day we upgraded to a larger room, and I finally got a sofa sleeper. We watched so many movies, when it was nap time she always told me to put in Legal Eagles with Robert Redford in it…. that usually had us both sleeping in minutes! I never left the hospital during her stay. I helped her shower which may have been a true test of sisterhood. 😉 She had 3 drains coming out of her abdomen and it took her a while to be able to stand up without excruciating pain. Until she had the drains removed and enough strength to stand on her own I would get part way in the shower with her to wash her while she held on to her drains, shaking in pain, crying for me to hurry. My tears silently falling at the situation in front of us.

She even had me make a photo guest book of all her visitors, taking each person’s picture as they stopped by or as flowers and gifts were delivered. I had them sign a get well note on each page where their picture would be, and we put it together after she was dismissed and before she started chemo. Through it all, there were lots of tears, and lots of laughs too. She made the best of it, and never let people think it was as hard as it really was.

Kristy started chemo 6 weeks later, in April of 2005. From there it was recurrence in 2009 revealed through a liver biopsy, followed by a different regimen of chemo. In January of 2011 it was discovered that she had mets to liver and in the right lower quadrant. That round of chemo had to be discontinued due to severe dermatitis. Then it was hospitalization for a small bowel obstruction, which was the first of a few to follow. By November of 2011, the Ovarian cancer showed up again in the CT of her abdomen and pelvis. More chemo, more hospitalization, more operations, more nausea, more struggles, more tears, more heartache, more fighting. This roller coaster continues on and off with multiple hospital admissions until there were no more options.

Explain what impact this had on you personally and how it changed both of your lives/perspectives, good and bad.

I lost my best friend. The first half of our lives we argued and acted as if we hated one another…actually I drove her crazy, yet all I could think of was being just like her. When it changed, we had a connection like I’ve never had with any friend. Only sisters know what I mean when I say that, and I don’t mean to say it in a bad way because I have some truly great friends who I care about as if they were my sisters.  But it does not compare to the bond I had with Kristy, one that was built long ago. The bond that holds our past, our childhood, our family trips, our countless phone calls, and an understanding of one another, our bond, was solid as any iron or stone. Unbreakable.

The treasures are the countless strangers, physicians and nurses who became our friends and the connections she made at the chemo, which is more like a gas station really. The countless beds and chairs stationed in one area where everyone checks in to get filled up on poison. Kristy though, she changed the tempo on Gonda 10… if you ever visited her there, you always had an idea of what room was hers. It was always the loudest!  And she didn’t like to sit in the chairs much unless she was only going to be there for an hour or two. In and out she’d say, I want to hit happy hour at Jonnys! And if her cycles ran longer than that she usually asked for a room with a bed, because the pre-meds would make her tired. After her nap you would usually find her up walking the halls with her IV pole checking on others she had met the week before. Sharing a joke, there was always laughter  or, her calling maintenance to come fix something she seen was wrong. Everyone loved her. She brought social hour to chemo and she made it better by just being there.  She yearned for hope from others yet she gained so much more.

Genetics is a huge factor. After three tries we finally found out why she got it. The Gene mutation BRCA1. If my sister wasn’t so aggressive in her fight and in her curiosity of ‘why me’ … we wouldn’t know.  And with that knowledge she has saved me by making me promise her I would get tested. To think all the while I was trying to save her, in the end she saves me. Wow – that is love!

What did this consist of for you personally – to recall being a cheerleader on the sidelines, observing, but being unable to save them? (Ultimately the trauma of being the survivor).

From day one, I researched, I did everything I could have done to save her. I called all over the world looking for the right clinical trial. Each one would get shot down by different doctors due to a certain chemo she had taken, or the numbness in her feet and hands, the length of her disease, the stage, where it had metastasized. Each time I thought I found one that might work I would send it to a team of doctors I worked with who were my backbone of soldiers with their medical education. They would compare her to the study and we would all determine what the outcome would be.  I, of course would not take no for an answer so I would enroll her, only to find out later she wasn’t a match. I needed concrete information to prove me just what they had told me all along. Her cancer sucked the energy out of both of us. Watching someone I care so deeply get knocked back down after enduring so much. Time and time again she inspired people by keeping that smile on her face, even when deep down, she was miserable.

The illness itself is exhausting. Her only chance was the poison that was pumped into her body, and she had to find the strength and courage to stay alive through fatigue, vomiting, pain and sadness. She just did what any of us would do. Fight like hell to stay alive. Because that is all she wanted, was to live, love and be happy. The worst part, the suffering in the end… let’s be honest – it is what it is right….suffering? The cancer starved my sister. Suffering. It produced road blocks in her gut and her gut stopped working. Suffering. She could no longer eat or absorb nutrients. Suffering. She had a peg tube placed in her abdomen to help relieve the pressure so she didn’t continue to vomit multiple times a day. Suffering.

Do you feel you’re meant to do something differently with your life because of her death? And if so, what is your hope/goal? How do you want her to live on? 

I was in nursing school prior to both my mom and sisters’ diagnosis. I was released on a compassion leave from the program when my mom was diagnosed with terminal small cell lung cancer on March 8th, 2013.  I returned in the spring after her death, however my return date was only a few days after my sister was discharged home on hospice.  I wasn’t able to finish then either and was given my second check mark, meaning I wasn’t allowed to return. If I were to ever be a nurse I needed to start the program over. I felt as though I failed my family, my goals, and it was so stressful, but my heart was broken. School didn’t matter as much as my mom and sister – nothing does when you’re in that situation. Thankfully, I learned enough in school to know how to care for them and understand what was going on with their bodies, and to feel confident enough to be able to follow their wishes to die at home. For years my role was to help Kristy fight her cancer, then I was helping my mom too.

I’ve definitely changed. I was by her side to help her, guide her, and cheer her on, lift her up when she was at her worst, give her hope, and coach her through. When she died my caregiver role was over. I was lost… numb. The pain was like a dagger being shot into my heart and twisted a hundred times.  Over time, when I thought that pain would subside… I would be forced to be reminded it hadn’t… it’s only gotten more bearable. She was such a good person, sister, daughter, and an amazing aunt to my kids, and nephews, and Godmother to my son. For months I felt like I was walking around in a fog. Then I had genetic testing done only to find I was BRCA1 positive too. One blow after another, the hits just kept on coming. Surgery, menopause, patches, depression, wow…

Each day I think about her, and I think about what little I have went through and how awful I feel one day and how great I feel the next. I can’t even fathom what Kristy went through but I will say, I have learned how she put on her mask each day and made the best of it. I return to the promises I made to her that I would stay involved in her fight. I want to continue to help spread awareness to others about this horrible disease.  I hope as time goes on I can actually stand in front of an audience and not cry while I talk about her because I miss her so much. My goal is to continue to be an advocate for others by staying involved in the organizations that she was passionate about.

Kristy was my best friend, my sister, my rock. I thank God each day that he chose us to be sisters…

_______________________________________________________________

In closing I want to share a wonderful note sent to her from a physician friend of ours: it’s pretty powerful so be ready… 

First of all, please accept my condolences for your loss.  It has been a terrible year for the Puetz family.  It just a year ago when Kristy’s mother was diagnosed with cancer and died within only a few months.  Kristy had a different course, living 10 years with cancer but, in the end, it also took her from us. We are here today to mourn the death of Kristy but also to commemorate her life.

I met her through Jamie around the time of Kristy’s cancer diagnosis and over the years have had the privilege of being her friend. We talked about many things but more than any subject was about how cancer affected her life. She was treated initially with the hope of cure but when the cancer came back the first time she realized she would never be cured. Being told one has cancer is an enormous shock because it is our expectation that our bodies will keep on working. When young, we don’t even think about our health.  We have injuries, infections, and so on but we always assume it will be ok and we will recover. Being told one has cancer changes this forever because the body failed us in a way it was never supposed to. Even when cancer is treated successfully, we are never the same.

Kristy handled her cancer better than anyone I have seen. She seemed to always look at the better side of life and, although she had her down days, she went on with the expectation she would be well.  Some people put their life on hold thinking they will resume it when the cancer is cured. They forget to live when they should be celebrating every day they have. Kristy did this; she had an illness but she was well.

I ask my patients if they have a spiritual part of their lives. What gives their life meaning? For some it is their faith but for others it is family, work, health, hobbies, volunteerism, pets and so on.  Each person has a different answer, but the basic question is “Why do I get out of bed each day?”  Because we “have to” is not a good reason.  We get out of bed to do something, see someone, accomplish something; we look forward to the day.  When health and other life changes occur, what we have relied on to give us meaning may no longer be possible. This may be a crisis because these things serve as our energy supplies and are the reasons should want to get better. The ability to find new reasons when the old are no longer possible is resilience. Kristy was amazingly resilient and why she is an inspiration to many. She found new reasons to live as long as her body would allow.

Funerals are for the living. We honor the dead by coming together to mourn our loss but also to celebrate their lives, remember what they mean to us and to tell their stories. Funerals should also remind us that we too are mortal and someday people will gather to remember us. We all should live our lives with this in mind in all our dealings with others, in our coming and going, in how we behave, and determining what will our legacy will be? We need to live mindfully which means being mentally present each day. Some people spend much of their time thinking about the past with regret or anger. Some spend all their time thinking about the future worried about what will happen and our inability to control it. We don’t, however, spend much time thinking about the present, yet it is the only thing we have.  I think this is best said by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 6 25-34.

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life ? 28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

We also need to live our life remembering it is not our own. Our life is a gift of God and we need to be ever mindful of Him.  We should live our life seeking Him and his righteousness because some day we will answer to Him about what we did with our life.   

I am sorry I cannot be there with you today but my thoughts and prayers are with you in this time of loss.

Larry Bergstrom

_______________________________________________________________

This is a speech that Kristy had written for the Corn on the Cob Day Pageant.

This is a shortened and modified version to bring out some of the humor that Kristy brought forth in her every day life. While highlighting some of her own strength and bravery – that she worked so hard to bring forth during her own trials and tribulations. I have no doubt it was God’s will to help her help others during their journey, along with her mindset and attitude – is what brought her far beyond that original grim diagnosis of less then a year to live. To be the light through the dark, the humor through the pain and the rock through the unsteady waves.

“I always thought when I lost my hair I would be devastated.  Well that wasn’t so bad….the thing I missed most about losing my hair was losing my eye lashes.  I just felt naked without them….the best part was I didn’t have to shave my legs and my skin was so soft! I know there really isn’t any “best” part about cancer but if I had to pick one that would be it!!

Cancer is scary, it’s a scary word to anyone and living with it isn’t easy, but I tell myself that I am not going to let this cancer change me or anything I liked to do.  IT WAS NOT GOING TO CONTROL MY LIFE!

 I was told that my life would be like riding on a roller coaster.  The cancer would be active then dormant, I’ll go on a break and so on and so forth.

Cancer is devastating………………………..to everyone touched by it.

I have learned a lot throughout this journey.  There have been a lot of tears but there has also been a lot of laughter.  I’ve met so many people, and shared my story to others who get diagnosed so they know what to expect… or what to try that has worked for me – even though each case is different.  And if you know me, or follow my caring bridge page, weird things tend to happen to me and all you can do……….. is just laugh! Because I try to live my life to the fullest each day, and I try not to let this disease or anything else bring me down.

The theme for you is “home of the brave’ … and each of us is brave in our own way, my bravery comes from deep inside myself knowing I’m not giving up…..knowing I have an enormous support system in my family and friends.

For the girls sitting up here tonight…. Courage and bravery are not just about facing risk, but also, afterward, about going back to the people you love, your community and sharing your experience, and encourage them to be strong.”

Kristy

*If this resonated with you, feel free to share on Social Media – not only to raise awareness but to bring hope to any who may be struggling*

Final Sunset

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blog sunset collage 1

We placed that stone almost a year later, and I’ve hated it ever since. The coldness, harshness and permanence it brings every time just reiterates and reminds me of what we already hate to have to face. Another birthday is here, which means another year without a missing link sitting around the table to blow out 28 birthday candles. Another day spent with an especially heavy feeling in my heart while running through my mind all of the ‘who would you be today’ questions. From her occupation, to relationship status, her hair cut and color, to her current address or possible little ones running around – it’s impossible not to play out the endless possibilities of scenarios. As I sat staring at that stone last night, I noticed the perfect reflection of the sun set staring back at me. I thought of what the reflection of what her last sunset meant and what it has brought in the 8 years since.

This week has been a heavy one for many reasons beyond this – but the primary reoccurring theme has been the reminder that death surrounds us.  Doing these tributes and reading the heartbreaking stories of others’ lives that were shattered on account of ugly diseases, forces me to ask myself the question “what do I want my last sunset to look like?” I keep reminding myself that all the things that I’m unsatisfied with in my life right now – aren’t anywhere near what I want that sunset to look like as I take my last breath on this earth. So as I run through these countless thoughts of what she’d be doing if we were all sitting around that table together, I look in that reflection on that stone and also see myself. And I think to myself – “self” 😉 you are still sitting here celebrating more birthdays, so – who and what are you doing that feeds and fills your soul? While there are some things – such as being a mom – that I am proud of – there are  other things that consume large amounts of my time, that aren’t in alignment with what I actually love or am passionate about. While I’ve spent the past couple years trying to bridge these ideas and things together, unable to make a complete connection as to how or where I want to go next – I’m forced to be reminded that maybe in the end, none of the minor details matter. It’s just another push towards something more, something bigger, something outside the mundane. It’s as if we’re almost sitting and waiting for death to come knocking just so we can attempt to make it all right when that reality has become ours. Only then do we either live engulfed in regret and guilt, or try and make it all right when we know the end is near. Why do we do that? Why do we wait? Why do we work our entire lives just to hit a certain age to retire and actually ‘enjoy’ life and be stress free? Why do we wait until our kids are older or we have grandchildren to change the way we think about and interact with our kids? Why do we work our entire lives to pay off things we think we need, only to be surrounded by those things in the end to realize how completely unnecessary they are?

Although this day is a reminder of many things that will never come into fruition for Josie on another birthday that she isn’t able to celebrate – it’s also a reminder to ask ourselves what we want left – either etched permanently on that stone or painted on that final sunset of our lives. I want that sunset to be bright and beautiful, full of many vibrant colors that others remember for decades to come. I want it to consist of change, hope and healing from the inside out. And this is a reminder that we are still here, and we still have the opportunity to make it what we want, while we can.

I wanted to share this, as I thought it summed so many things up perfectly 🙂 This is part of an entry made by Chandra Nicole (her writing is amazing by the way, highly recommend following on FB, or reading the full entry on Elephant Journal at  http://www.elephantjournal.com/2016/05/a-lesson-about-true-love-where-to-find-it/ )

“But I think the lesson that’s most pressing here is the understanding that impending ‘death’ allows us to be present, which is where true love resides.

It allows us to live fully and to see what’s truly important… and also what’s total bullshit. When ‘the end’ is near, moments become intrinsically precious.

Parting ways with this man, has shown me that more clearly than anything before.

I wonder how differently we might live our lives if we were to really understand that everything dies at some point; that the only constant in this universe is change, and that within each change there is a mini-death.

In what ways are we resisting life by resisting death?

If we were to interact with everything, everyone, every relationship — with full awareness of the fact that it may soon die, how might we choose differently?
What might we say differently?
How would we show up differently?

What would matter?
And what wouldn’t?

What might LOVE actually look like in the space of total surrender and complete presence?”

-Chandra Nicole

Happy birthday Miss Josie – although we’d prefer you were here to cheers that drink with – thank you for all that you’ve taught and continue to teach us as we walk blindly through this thing called life.

Jos bday collage 2016

Closing Another Chapter

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blog-truth

The day shit went down was exactly 20 months to the day of Josie’s death. There’s been no doubt she helped orchestrate such a perfect storm – one that ensured no turning back – damage that was so concrete there would be no way to make it right, no question beyond a shadow of a doubt – and that it was!

As many more details there are to this chapter of my life, surprisingly enough, I don’t feel the need to divulge in them like I used too. Although impossible to realize at the time – all traumas and tragedies are in some way a blessing – to teach us an underlying lesson, assuming we’re willing and open to truly learn from it. And to some degree, these were also consequences of my choices, the choice to stay long after I should’ve, the choice to listen to my head and not my gut, the choice to not set boundaries out of fear, the choice to allow fear to consume me, the choice of routine and safety over following what, deep down I new was best, the choice of being selfish and thinking I was doing my daughter a favor by staying, the choice to feed into and play the game that I hated him for – but learned to love in some sick way.

Everyone has their own definition of closure to each circumstance, and to some degree, that closure comes when our minds and hearts are willing to truly hear it, no matter how harsh. As I said, I literally went insane with questions I would run through my head, wanting to know the details of how, when, where and WHY?! About a year and a half later, I broke. Aside from the fact that I was maxed out on my meds and needed to find something different – the ones I did switch too didn’t work. I was a fast rolling snowball that turned into an avalanche in a fairly short amount of time! I called him screaming and bawling, letters written, wanting out of this life, and for real this time – checked right the eff out. Done, over it, adios, peace out, sianara! I was exhausted, I was sick of putting on the front – as if I really had my shit together! I was sick of hearing aaaaaaall of the stories, sick of trying to cover his ass with my daughter, coming up with more excuses then he came up for himself, sick of not knowing the details, sick of wondering what in the eff I was going to do next, sick of getting up everyday to put on a show, sick of the torment – every aspect. I told him ‘when I ask you a question – you answer it – I don’t care what it is – answer me. You’ve done nothing but lie since day 1, acting as if I was delusional – I don’t care how bad it is, for once in your life tell me the truth – you owe me this!’ He told me how it wasn’t going to help, if anything it’d add more damage – but I didn’t care. So, we played a nice long game of Q & A! He was right, knowing the nitty gritty of it all did make it worse in the short term- but within days it lifted. That’s all it took – I just wanted the fucking truth – for once! Even though the answer to every ‘why’ question was followed with an “I honestly don’t know”, it was enough for me to finally put my mind at ease. To just know the facts without the guessing game, without others side or speculation. It didn’t clear the anger by any means, but it cleared my mind and that was good enough at the time.

Although I never thought I’d say it – I’m grateful for it many ways, it was a door that needed to be slammed shut for good. And the things it’s taught me since, although painful to endure – were truly needed. It taught me more about myself, how much my gut instinct never lies, more about those around me, those that stuck with me and were my sounding boards over and oveeeer! How blessed I am to be surrounded by such loving souls who stood by my side and showed up on days I’m sure they had far better things to do. It taught me my true, inner strength – that I really, truly didn’t know I had. It taught me to have more empathy for those going through hard times and to see each side of the spectrum (yes, that took me a long time to see beyond my side, I’m well aware! 😉 . It taught me that a loss comes in different forms and although it isn’t remotely fair to compare a death to a divorce, it is still a loss. It had different driving forces, but I would say to some degree, still follows the stages of grief – you’re still forced to feel it.

It made me realize how unable I was to be in a functional, non-confrontational relationship, because I had become dependent on the dysfunction. How I didn’t know how to allow something or someone to be good in my life and that a boring, drama free life – really is fabulous! lol It forced me to see how much I ran from things, whether perched on a bar stool or a social calendar so full and booked out, even I could barely keep it straight – I was occupying my time and energy on everything except what had happened. It has taught me, (perhaps more in the last year), what feeling feels like again. Not going to lie, I realized how much I didn’t miss it – but also how very much I needed it! How I’ve learned to mask and hide behind them, unable to show them, how important they are to release and how much we need to realize experiencing them is part of being human (still reminding myself of that on the daily). Because I cried so much and for so long after Josie and then next to never cried after the divorce, while operating strictly out of anger – I’ve been forced to face both extremes again and at a higher intensity. It’s taught me how numb I was to so many things around me, how blind and ignorant I became, how guarded and hardened I forced myself to be after the fact. It forced me to realize the masks I was wearing, and how we all seem to have them – applying a surface layer to throw out to the world to protect ourselves from really being seen. How fearful we are of another loss, in any form and how we cling even tighter when being threatened with it. How good the truth feels to not only know it, but to feel it – it was his truth, their truth, and my truth to an extent and it was one that needed to be set free. And for whatever reason – it did just that for me – and as I lay another chapter to rest, I’m grateful for every aspect of it. Without the darkness, I wouldn’t have known, nor appreciated the light.