hope

Your Story

/ Revolution.07 / 2 Comments

Blog - StoriesNovember 14th, 2007 marks the “9-11” of my world. A date that became a dreaded day in my history book, one that shook me to my core, a depth I didn’t know was possible. This day not only marked the death of my sister, but the death of me as the person I had become thus far in life. As the years have unfolded I’ve realized how many times I’ve died, how many old layers and stories I’ve shed. But as with any death, both physical and metaphorical – comes birth. It’s funny how much we don’t realize or focus on that. With every loss of a person, relationship, home or possession comes new opportunity – assuming we’re willing to see it. We spend so much time looking back at that closed door trying to figure out how we could’ve left it open, that we blind ourselves from seeing the beauty that lies ahead.

There are times I’ve wondered – had she not died, would I have still found my passion? Would I be transitioning out of the corporate world to focus on revolutionizing and bringing awareness to a new paradigm around mental and emotional health? Would I have learned the same valuable lessons personally so I could connect and teach others? Would I have realized that it has little to do with labels and more to do with the underlying components, the ones we’ve all suppressed and forced ourselves to bury and forget? Lets be honest, I’ve always been good at expanding and pushing the limits, but would I have done it in a way that caused more pain and disruption, instead of healing and liberation? Would I have started a blog? One that began with my own story and  shifted into the love of telling others real and raw stories? Ones not only of trauma and heartache, but of love and healing? Perhaps we’re all still going where we were originally headed, but her decision, one that left a ripple – shifted my course to this path. A path that has pushed me to the depths of some very dark valleys, and pushed me even harder up the mountains. I don’t want this to be my only story – her death was the start of my story, and one I hope overflows to many others stories. Your greatest strengths really do lie in your deepest pain. Those are the very wounds that are there for a reason you have yet to discover, the ones that will not only break you down – but to break you open. Those are the turning points in your life that are pushing to you to new depths. It isn’t about allowing this to be your only story, it’s about pushing yourself to a new one. It isn’t about going with the norm, it’s about reinventing the norm. And it isn’t about her death as much as it is the life that can be birthed from it. The realization that in a world that often feels hopeless, there is still plenty of it. And that starts with us – that starts with the death of old stories and the pain we’ve held so tightly too, and allowing ourselves to rise from it. Its about being true to ourselves, instead of attaching ourselves to others. This blog began with telling my own story, but has blossomed into the realization that we all have one to tell. It has made me realize it isn’t things or surface conversations that connect us, its real life pain and emotion that help us realize, we aren’t that different from each other. To realize we all have something to offer, because noone has the same story, with the same perspective and emotion as yours has held.

So I leave you with this – if you had to think of all the stories you had to tell, what one do you want people to know? Will you tell the one people see from the outside just to please their pallet? Or will you tell them the one that sits deep in your soul? Will you show up in the world in the way it wants you too, or will you show up in a way that offers a deeper truth? Are you allowing old stories to play on rerun, numbing what lays beneath the surface? I have many stories to tell over my life, and especially the past 10 years – all bits and pieces of me, but none of which own me. The story I want to tell 10 years later isn’t the same – in fact its message is very different – this time, its one of awareness, hope and liberation. And for that I am grateful. So thank you Josie for the never ending lessons as I navigate through, thank you for the reminder that your death is not for nothing and that all things can be born again if we allow them.

 

Beneath the Surface

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Clouds Thailand 2017Have you ever stood in the mirror and wondered who you’re looking back at? Have you ever had moments of wondering how exactly you ended up here? Have you ever had times when a story is told and you can either replay it verbatim in your mind or barely remember being present? Are there times you’ve spent grasping for that moment in time to stand still? Or days you wish you would’ve held tighter too? Have you ever stopped and looked at your life like takes of a movie or book series – watching the chapters or sequels unfold? Have you ever been able to unidentify yourself with an old version of You – unable to connect with that part of your life anymore? Or perhaps find yourself grasping so tightly onto other parts – allowing them to hold more truth then they’re worthy of? Are there parts of your story you want to change, but unsure how? Of the thousands of shattered peices that make up you and your story, are there any you’d trade? Of the jigsaw puzzle what is are missing puzzle peices you’re still looking for? What peices are worn and tattered – ready to be recycled?

Do you look around wondering how it’s possible to raise children in a world so broken? Do you wonder how to support them in an age where media and electronics rule all? Do you wonder if their emotional needs are being met on a level that can best serve them? Are we failing as adults, parents, children and citizen? Even if we were – how would we make it better?

Craving connection on a level deeper then the surface? Feeling like you’re going through the motions of life without being able to stop and smell the roses? Wondering what your “theme” for this lifetime is? Ever wonder if there’s more beyond the everyday routine or what else this life could hold for you? Or better yet – have you taken the time out of the craziness of this life to ask or ponder? Because there is more to this rat race then we realize. There is still room for dreams beyond the ordinary. There is still room for healing, for revolutions beyond the everyday chaos. Do you believe it?

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!*

Santa Monica

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Santa Monica Blog entry Nov 16.jpg

“Her mind’s made up
The girl is gone
And now I’m forced to see
I think I’m on my way
Oh, it hurts to live today
Oh and she says “Don’t you wish you were dead like me?”

And I remember the day when you left for Santa Monica
You left me to remain with all your excuses for everything
And I remember the time when you left for Santa Monica
And I remember the day you told me it’s over”

This was the last song I listened too exactly 9 years to the day with you. Although those lyrics mean something different since then, the feeling that arises when hearing them is still there. I had just put Gabby – 2 1/2 and sick at the time – to bed, waiting for Nathan to get home, you and I were chatting about wedding stuff. I had mentioned perhaps  meeting with Sarah to do wedding invites, I knew you wanted to do them, but she’s great at this stuff and thought maybe you could learn some things from her?! I remember feeling half guilty, half defensive by the look on your face that said “of course I wouldn’t do it good enough or the way you wanted”. It was that look, followed by a weak “sure”. I remember talking about all of these wedding things as you half ignored me, never looking at me – always facing the computer. I often wonder how you didn’t turn around and tell me to shut the fuck up – you didn’t care – because you weren’t going to there. I often wonder how you didn’t say many things to me – instead, always playing the part, keeping your mouth shut, trying to pretend to be happy for me – even though I knew you were pissed about the whole thing. Once I realized you were less then impressed with this choice of topic I said “oh Jos – you gotta listen to this song – you’re gonna love it – Santa Monica by Theory of a Deadman! I asked you what you thought and got a monotone “yeah – I like it.”

I’ve replayed in my head a million times us standing outside smoking – while freezing our asses off – we got laughing about I don’t  even know what. I vividly remember thinking – but never actually saying “you look so good, you’ve lost weight – you seem happy Jos!” Maybe I just wanted to enjoy that contagious laugh a little longer, so I didn’t say it – just like you didn’t say anything to me, so we carried on. When we came back in the house I told you I was sorry, you could finish what you needed too, but I needed to go to bed. I needed sleep – pffff – fuck – let’s be real – I always needed sleep! You acted bummed, with a brief hesitation – I took note of it, but was defensive and proceeded to bed. As I laid there – I remember feeling bad, but more so as if something seemed off – but too tired to bother inquiring. Instead, I heard you shut down the computer and walk across the kitchen floor for what would be the last time. I heard the door close and I fell asleep. And that was it. That was the last time I would see your face, the last time I would hear your laugh, the last time I would smoke a Marlboro with you, the last time I would have a discussion with you – it was the last of so many things that would taint me for so long.

For months and months afterwards, I would talk to you on my way into work as if you were in the passenger seat beside me. I would try and alter the reality of it – as crazy as that sounds – I just always felt like I needed those one-way conversations – that were far from conversations because I couldn’t quit crying long enough to actually finish a sentence. To this day whenever I feel you, I feel you on my right side – steady, solid, always quiet and always on my right.

At some point in all of our lives we have a massive shifting point, it shows up in many different ways, but it shakes us to the core. For those that don’t know what this feels like, you will in time, for it’s inevitable in the human experience. It isn’t a week long ordeal either – it’s a forever long ordeal. For as much as this blog has done for me, in regards to healing at a much more rapid rate on many levels – the replay of that night – the feelings that arise with that song – the longing to hear that laugh or see that smile will forever be imprinted when this week arises – year after year – despite the time in between.

How can something feel like yesterday and eternity all at once? There are times I feel as though I’ve lost the details as time has passed. There are parts of me that are thankful for that, for it doesn’t consume me like before – proving I’ve been able to let go and move forward, but there are also days – like today – when I wish I could remember every detail of your face, of your words, of your every breath. Here’s to 9 years – 9 down – plenty to go – but still looking forward to the day I see that face again.

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.”

Siblings Tribute – Brynn & Jaime

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Blog-tributebrynnnjamie

There isn’t anyone that doesn’t know of someone that has battled a disease at some point in their life. Whether it be cancer, mental illness, eating disorders, cardiovascular disease, Alzheimer’s, alcoholism, or addiction – to some degree, disease is disease. Some have triumphed over their struggles, while others fought the battle until the end, only to lose the war.

Although we lost our siblings to different diseases, we still watched them endure hardships while fighting against something that, in the end, was stronger then them. We, as family, were forced to sit on the sidelines, unable to make their physical, emotional or mental pain cease. From various forms of chemo, radiation or surgical treatments to different anti-anxiety and anti-depressant medications- they were forced to put their mind, body and soul through some excruciating pain just to be able to add another day to the calendar.

While we all know of these people, we don’t really, truly know these people. We’ve all heard of stories pertaining to disease and death, however, it’s rare that we hear or see what happens behind the scenes. The lasting impact it has on both the patient and the family and the roller coaster of emotions that take place along the way. From the fight to the triumphs and back to defeat, from what seems like never ending decision making, just to hope it was the ‘right’ one, just to doubt it and yet be forced to trust it all at once. From the overwhelming support of those around you, only to feel so alone in the crowd of supporters. From the distress on so many levels, only to hope it’s worth every ounce of energy put forth by everyone. From the tears to the triumphs, from overwhelming sadness to finding laughter in the little moments, the heartache to the joys of the smallest things you never noticed before, from the heaviest of guilt weighing on us down to trying to see the bigger picture through the diluted veil. From watching them in pain in every realm, to one day being forced to feel much of that same pain. This is a journey that so many – too many – experience, but one that often times doesn’t get brought up in the rawness in which is truth for many. And I want to bring forth that rawness, that truth and the awareness behind it.

I feel truly honored to be able to share this ‘Siblings Tribute’ with 3 other strong, brave, compassionate and determined souls to bring forth both their siblings stories, as well as their own. Our hope is that this can offer a sense of peace for those who are struggling in any way – to know that you aren’t alone on this journey, whether you’re the one who’s in the ring for another round to fight, or the cheerleader on the sidelines – your story matters! This is Part 1 of a few entries and I am truly so grateful they agreed to do this with me! Although these entries were excruciating to write – I’m excited to share both of their stories, as well as their sisters battle against a disease we’re all well aware and hear far too much about – cancer.

*Disclaimer: a box of tissues is recommended – you’ve been warned 😉

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“Sisters from the start, friends forever from the heart.”

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

My name is Brynn Ashley Soderlind. I was 31 when my sister Jaime Teresa Gartner was diagnosed with breast cancer on October 14, 2011. Jaime was only 32 years old. I was 8 months pregnant with my first child as I sat in the waiting room of the doctors office. My three year old nephew, Jaime’s son Jameson, sat on my lap on a blue upholstered bench. He was such a patient child. He held my hand and we sat there mostly in silence. It seemed like years. We waited and waited and waited. Finally, three hours later, Jaime came down the dark grey hallway. Her dark brown long hair framed her beautiful face like a picture. I remember her brief eye contact with me and then her eyes quickly fixed on her son. Tears were pouring down her face as she opened her arms to meet his little body. He fell into her with relief. She looked to me and smiled as she wiped her tears quickly from her cheeks and shook her head “no”. I knew right then that the massive lump in my sisters breast wasn’t a cyst or an enlarged lymph node. My throat felt tight as I swallowed hard. My sister had cancer.

We grew up with a strong sense of self. We lived out in the country on a hobby farm with our loving parents and grandparents, some goats, chickens, pigs, dogs, rabbits and a blind cow. We had great company each day with our siblings- Ericka, Ian and Seth- and the neighborhood kids our mom babysat. We loved to hike on the land and explore the 132 acre woods that we lived on and absorb all that nature provided to us. Jaime and I loved to take our Red Ryder BB guns out and shoot targets that Ian would set up for us. Life was easy. Life was so good. We loved to go to Whitewater State Park and as teens we would spend most of our summer hiking and swimming. We also loved to travel and took several road trips together and with friends. We did almost everything together. Where there was Jaime, there was likely Brynn.

We would end up moving to Colorado together in 1999. We loved the mountains. We loved the experience but eventually we ended up back in Minnesota together.

Almost a year before her cancer diagnosis, Jaime and I were in Esthetician school together. Jaime and Jameson lived with my husband Adam and I in our condo. Jaime and I had a long history of sames. We had the same jobs, wore the same clothes, loved the same foods, had the same friends, lived in the same cities, read the same books, listened to the same music. Her and I shared a bedroom, secrets, underwear, makeup, cars, lunch money, dreams, aspirations, germs but mostly, we shared genetics. I was encouraged to have genetic testing done shortly after my 33 year old sister had a bilateral mastectomy. I knew that if my sister had breast cancer at 32 years old, I had a pretty good chance of getting it too. When I got the genetic counseling and testing, my daughter was a baby and still breastfeeding. I remember the fear surrounding a positive genetic mutation. What if I too shared the BRCA2 mutation? I knew for me, it would mean a mastectomy and possibly a hysterectomy. That meant no more children. I was ok with that as long as I had an upper hand on controlling the disease.

I had a strong feeling that I didn’t have the mutation. I soon learned that Jaime had the same feeling. Sure enough, I tested negative for the BRCA2 mutation. I cried so hard when I heard the positive news; half of me was relieved and half of me felt guilty. I know it may seem strange, but it was like we had always shared everything and now we didn’t. And I was happy and devastated all at the same time. You see that’s the tricky part about disease and being a caretaker to someone you love so much. The cancer may have taken over my sister’s body, but it also consumed me, differently, but still the same. It completely changed everything.

I thought about cancer all day long. I thought about ways to help heal. I threw myself into research and tried to educate myself as best as I could. I attended every appointment. I quit my job to care for her full time. Her cancer became my cancer. Her life sort of became my responsibility. I’d lie awake at night running through all of the “to do’s” Did she take all of her meds? Did she eat enough? Were all of her appointments scheduled? Did we write down all of our questions? I learned as much as I could about her tumors on my own time. When they told her that her tumors were ERPR positive, HER2 negative, I researched. When they told her that she needed  radioactive Theraspheres implanted into her liver, I researched. When they said there was nothing left to try, I researched. I always wanted to find a way to save my sister’s life. I wanted her dream of becoming a grandmother to come to fruition. I wanted to see her pain-free and dancing in the woods at night like we used to do when we were young. I wanted to travel again, hike, shop, sing, learn to knit and play guitar with her. She always wanted us to take knitting classes and guitar classes together, but I guess we never made the time. I wish we would have figured out how to make it work. Especially guitar lessons. We both loved singing and music so much. I imagine how therapeutic it would have been to be able to play guitar and sing together during her 4.5 year fight against cancer. We both had our own guitar and knitting needles, but never learned. Now, I am ready to take guitar lessons. I will learn to knit this winter. The thing I’ve learned is that life doesn’t wait for us. We have to take advantage of the time we have- right now- today. If there is something you want to learn or experience, go for it. Set goals! Chase dreams! Jaime’s goal was to make it to Mother’s Day. My goal is to make sure that women aren’t dismissed when they find a lump in their breast, at any age. Jaime was dismissed by 3 different doctors before the fourth ordered a mammogram. 3 different doctors! None of them thought she had cancer because she was young and because they told her cancer didn’t hurt, so her lump must have been a cyst or something. It will take me a lifetime to get over the dismissal she received from those individuals. If a 31 year old woman complains of discomfort and has a sizable lump, it should be taken seriously. Mammograms save lives. Every lump should be examined thoroughly.

What battles (disease, metastasis, how many times in remission/relapse) did she endure and for how long? Explain what impact this had on you personally and how it changed both of your lives/perspectives, good and bad.

Jaime possessed a natural ability to find the positive in situations. She never complained about her circumstances. Not one time. She never had a pity party. I’m sure on her own time alone she often struggled, but she never divulged any of those feelings. She made light of the adverse reaction she had to steroids during her radiation treatments. She would joke about how the development of Cushing’s Syndrome was the worst part of the entire cancer experience because she had a 100 pound weight gain which was painful and left her almost unrecognizable. Her skin began to split in areas from the rapid weight gain. Her body ached all over.  They learned that the steroids they were giving her for pain control caused her adrenal glands to fail and shut down. Jaime didn’t mind loosing her hair. She liked hats. She knew she could manage the mastectomy with future reconstruction surgery and prosthetics. But Jaime did not know how to be ok with the Cushing’s Syndrome and her physical immobility and intense pain. In my opinion, the most challenging piece through her cancer journey the rapid weight gain and pain that accompanied it like an orchestra.

Jaime was diagnosed in October of 2011. She started chemotherapy quickly. Her lump was so invasive and so aggressive that they feared removing it without hitting her with a cycle of chemotherapy prior to surgery. Jaime had 7 rounds of chemotherapy between October 2011 -April 2012. On May 11, 2012, Jaime underwent a bilateral mastectomy and sentinel lymph node dissection. They inserted tissue expanders inside the chest wall to reconstruct her breasts with implants. The expanders were placed behind the muscle of the chest wall. The idea was to slowly stretch the skin by filling the expanders with air overtime to accommodate an implant.

We moved into her apartment in May after her mastectomy to care for her and Jameson. She couldn’t be alone and certainly couldn’t care for her three year old son by herself. I spent my days with Jaime, Jameson and my 7 month old daughter Poppy. I took her to appointments, cared for her and the children and did all of the normal day to day tasks and errands. I had so much help from Adam at night and on the weekends.  Following her discharge from her mastectomy, Jaime’s pain continued. She had so much pain. She was so weak and tired. Her surgery sites began to show signs of infection. I called the clinic with great concern. I was reassured several times that what I was describing was “normal healing”.  When her pain became unbearable, I brought her into the ER at a different hospital. She was quickly admitted after examination. She went into surgery the next day to  have the tissue expanders removed because she was septic. I felt so angry and so frustrated. I felt like I let her down. I had called several times with concern. I was always told that it was normal. Now she had a major setback in her recovery.

After that surgery to remove the expanders, Jaime never really felt good again. Ever. It was like the infection had gotten into the core of her being. She was so unsure. Her days and nights consisted of doctors appointments and pain management. After that surgery she went six months without seeing a doctor. She moved to Waseca and rented a house. She and Jameson lived right next door to our mom and stepdad. She just never felt good. Mom and Dad expressed concern about the lack of medical care and lack of follow up. Jaime was in a deep dark depression. She seemed to feel like they did everything they could do for her and this was what she would endure. We felt that she should be closely followed with scans and check ups. Nothing was scheduled. She had no desire to go to the doctor. Then in November of 2012, Jaime came to visit us in New Hope. She was in so much pain in her hips and low back that she could hardly walk. The pain was constant and ibuprofen wasn’t even coming close to touching it. Adam encouraged her to go to the ER. After some persuasion, she agreed. The ER dr in Plymouth MN listened to her history and decided that a pain injection of Tordol  to her hip would suffice and he sent her home. No scans were ordered. Her blood work showed elevated white cells and all of her numbers were either a bit high or low in almost every category. They knew she had cancer earlier that year. Why wouldn’t they have investigated her complaints and concerns more thoroughly? She was a 33 year old single mother with a history of breast cancer. I will never understand the lack of care. Fast forward a month later, she has similar complaints of low back pain and hip pain. Adam takes her into the ER again, and she gets the exact same diagnosis and treatment. They say it’s likely menses pain and they encourage a hot bath and ibuprofen. That was in December 2012. A moth later, on January 21, 2013, she fell in the bathroom in the middle of the night while visiting us in Duluth at our new temporary home. Jaime managed to crawl into the living room where she was able to wake us with screams like I have never heard before. After helping her up, Adam got her into our SUV and drove to the ER at St Lukes. At 3am on January 22, Adam texted me that he and Jaime were meeting with a neurosurgeon and likely she needed spinal surgery to fix her broken lumbar. He also mentioned that they were quite confused how she managed to break her lumbar by falling in the bathroom since the lumbar is the strongest part of the spine. After laying flat for 4 days in a body brace, the biopsies revealed that Jaimes entire skeleton had been infiltrated with breast cancer. I remember the look on her face when they told her that her breast cancer was a stage 4 and terminal. She looked relieved. She looked frightened. She looked so young and so lovely. I was engulfed with sickness and anger. Terminal breast cancer?!! How did this happen?

After she broke her back, she realized that St Lukes hospital in Duluth Minnesota was where she was meant to be. She began her care and treatments of weeks of radiation, many surgeries, continuous chemotherapy, injections in her neck and back and pain management. The nurses and doctors were incredible at St Lukes. She felt cared for and loved and validated. Her pain was finally explained! She could finally trust medical staff. She became so close to her oncologist, Dr. Based Goueli and her nurse Terri. They gave her the greatest care and love. She trusted them. I trusted them. We were able to navigate through all of the bad news together and even in her final days, she felt comfort and trust when she talked to Dr Goueli or Terri specifically.

During her battle, she also had to have a hysterectomy. Pathology of her ovaries detected breast cancer. From there, Jaime’s cancer spread into to the liver. Her care team kept up on her treatments of chemotherapy and she was able to fight for another year and a half. Jaime ended up passing away on a beautiful sunny Thursday morning in the arms of me and our older sister and our parents. Jaime had been in hospice care at St. Luke’s hospital for less than a week. Jaime died from liver failure caused by metastatic breast cancer to bones and liver. She had so much trouble breathing in her final hours. I remember feeling like she was drowning and I couldn’t pull her up or give her air. She fought until the last breath. April 14, 2016 was the hardest day of my existence. I lost a big part of myself when she passed. She had been unable to communicate the last day, but moments before she died, she opened her eyes and made brief eye contact with me and began to cry. She quickly shifted her eyes to our sister Ericka as tears fell down her face. Her eyes fixed towards my parents with her last breath.

I remember my mom placed her delicate hand on Jaime’s sweet face as she gently ran her palm down over her eyes to assist them to close. I remember the sound of my dad pulling a bandaid off of Jaime’s arm and throwing it across the room as he wept. I continue to replay these moments over and over- just like the the day she was diagnosed. The connections. The similarities. The tears. The beauty and the tragedy of it all. The brief eye contact that cut like a knife, the tears that poured from our eyes like wine, and the fear and yet the calming sense of peace that embodied all of it.

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).

I am forever grateful that I was able to care for my sister during her fight with cancer. I was able to support her and fight right along side her. I made sure she knew that she wasn’t alone. It’s been a month since she passed. The sorrow and pain really does come in waves. Everyday I wonder if there was anything more or anything else I could have done to help her have more time. I guess there will always be a part of me that will lament over the possibilities of treatments and cures. She ultimately decided that she would fight until the very end and she did. She fought so hard. Now I sit with my sword down and my shield up. I am still at war but all of the enemies are gone. I am less now. I am forever less without her here beside me. I will never understand why my sister had to fight so hard and ultimately die fighting breast cancer.

How has this changed you and your life course? 

Jaimes diagnosis absolutely changed me. I changed because I had to. I quit my job to care for her, we cancelled a move across the country to care for her, and I directed my focus and energy towards her health and healing.

Jaime and I were somewhat different from one another. Physically we were basically opposite. Our personalities, although different, meshed as we complemented each other well. We understood each others sense of humor. We had so many common threads and so much interest in one another. We had our own language and the ability to read one another with little effort. Sometimes we even felt one another’s pain or discomfort when apart. Jaime was 20 months older than me. We were only a grade apart in school. She always joked that I was the “big sister” and she was the “little sister”. I was taller, so that was ok with me. I will remember Jaime as an intelligent, loving, generous, carefree, slightly unpredictable, esthetically well maintained, stylish woman. She always had a big beautiful bright smile and she was always late for everything.

Since her passing, I have had a strong pull towards becoming more carefree and less concerned about details that don’t matter. I’m trying to learn to live in the moments that we are given each day.

I am contemplating my next steps and trying to discover what is best for me and what is next for me now that she is gone.

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?

Jaime left me with three quotes:

“Be a rainbow in the cloud”  

“Something will grow from all you are going through, and it will be you.”  

 “Don’t worry, No one likes a know-it-all”

I am doing a lot of soul searching and digging deep to find my balance and my purpose in life. I believe that Jaime’s spirit will help to guide me down the best path.

I do feel that I have great compassion and empathy and love and concern for others. Jaime has always encouraged me to become a nurse… but she also wanted me to pursue an acting career and become a professional photographer so I’m a bit confused about her impression of my actual talents or calling. I guess I may be confused as well? I feel like I need to find a vessel that allows me to help advocate for people struggling to find the medical care that they need and deserve. I don’t want one more woman with a lump in her breast to have to go to four doctors just to get a mammogram. I want to bring awareness to breast cancer affecting young women. Breast cancer isn’t only killing post-menopausal women. Breast cancer doesn’t discriminate. Men, women, young and old are all candidates for breast cancer. Screening is key! Early detection saves lives. Genetic counseling helps us to make informed preventative decisions  about our health. Who knows, maybe my sister would still be here today if the first doctor who saw Jaime would have ordered a simple mammogram.

Jaime will live on in the masterpiece she created. Her strong loving intelligent boy Jameson carries her beauty, strength and perseverance. He has her personality and her heart of gold. Jameson is the greatest legacy and a beautiful reminder that my sister still remains.

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