I watched the fireworks from my lawn chair with friends from church all around me. My children were playing nearby and Derek was at work, working a tough 24 hour shift putting out the usual fireworks fires. As the booms and fizzes surrounded us and assaulted our senses, I prayed. “Dear Lord, please don’t let this be the last time I spend this holiday with my children. Oh please don’t let this be the last time that I gaze into the sky and see the colors flash. Please dear God, send a miracle”. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I quickly brushed them away so that I could reassure the kids that I was fine – words that I had used often, every time that they had seen me cry over the mess that my life had become.
The miracle that I was praying for didn’t happen and ten months after that 4th of July, I signed a plea deal that would change my life forever. After days of being on the brink of completely losing my mind with worry that I was going away to prison for at least five years and possibly fifteen years, I made the only decision that I could make. A 50/50 chance at freedom was just not enough to convince me that I should walk into that courtroom and roll the dice. Derek wanted me to fight … oh how he wanted me to fight. I wanted to fight too, but I had no more fight left in me. After spending 18 months waiting for some miracle that would give me my life back, I had lost all hope. I had lost hope in my lawyers, lost hope in the so called justice system, and lost hope in the community that I expected to support me, but turned against me instead. We were scheduled to go to trial on a Tuesday, but the Friday before I couldn’t think of anything other than not seeing my children grow up. I spent the night lying on the bathroom floor; crying, dry heaving, sometimes screaming, but trying to not let the children know how upset I was. By the time Derek came home the next morning, my eyes were swollen shut and I could barely talk. I was almost too weak to stand. I made the phone call. I gave in. I surrendered … and a feeling of peace came over me. It was over.
Independence Day means so much more to me than it ever did before that day in April when I signed that piece of paper. I have a different kind of freedom now – freedom from the prescription drug addiction that numbed my life for nine years, freedom from the alcohol that I thought I needed just to get through the day, freedom from the craziness that nearly cost me my family, but most of all – the freedom to sit in the dark, in a lawn chair, surrounded by the people who love me the most and stare up into an inky night sky watching little bursts of hope and celebrating everything that is my life today.
* This post will be proudly featured in the http://www.inthepowderroom.com 4th of July Blogging Carnival *
Woah Woman. We have talked about not making each other cry at work before. You have crossed the line this time!
Beautiful. Poignant!
Sorry – I even made myself cry when I was writing it. It’s just amazing how far I have come in five short years. No looking back … only forward. Great things are just around the corner for both of us … I just know it!
Wow. This is really amazing. Wow.
Thank you for reading and following me, Catherine. I have been through some really rough stuff, but I think that I am doing pretty well at trying to use it for the greater good. Stay tuned for updates.
Great post on a subject close to my heart. I quit drinking 2 years ago after a private “slap in the face” and my husband just a mere 2 weeks ago, after a very public one.
My father got in big trouble because of Paxil.
So, as you can imagine, I hate pills and alcohol in equal measures.
Amanda, thank you for the comment. Isn’t it amazing how these drugs aka “meds” can completely change a person’s personality. They turned me into an absolutely crazy person …. and I didn’t even notice it happening.
You are a woman I am fortunate to be getting to know.
This post prompted me to read Your Story and holy wow batman. I am amazed at your strength.
Thank you Annabelle, it has been a tough road, but I am staying on it. I just know that there is a perfect opportunity out there that will allow me use to all of this to help other people. Thanks for visiting.
Beautiful, my darling! Just beautiful!
Thank you Cristy – it’s just amazing sometimes how such an ugly situation can turn somebody into a much better person. I had the choice to either be bitter about all of this … or be better because of it. I chose to be better.
I am at a loss to find the words that would truely relate how touching I found this post you are an amazing woman to have come through all that you have been through.
Jo-Anne, thank you for reading and please feel free to share my story with others who are in situations similar to mine. I have to believe that something good is going to come of all of this and I will continue to fight “the good fight”.
..am speechless.. so much in awe of your inner strength….did get teary… the pain of mother overwhelmed me … loved the ending of the post… that’s what people like you deserve.. surrounded by the loved ones .. enjoying the light from the heaven … don’t know why but i get a feeling that you are very very very nice person.. only nice people have the courage to look inside.. it is a tough job… take care…. and may you be blessed with all the happiness that the divine has in store for you
Sushmita … thank you for your kind words. I am glad that I touched her heart in some way. I have learned through all of this that happiness can sometimes be a fleeting moment (like sadness), but that contentment is a choice. I am so content in my life right now, sure it’s not perfect, but it’s pretty darn good.
This entry prompted me to read your story, and what courage you have shown in overcoming your afflictions. Admirable.
Rattlebox
Thank you Jane for your kind words. I am still very much a work in progress, but I am really working at it ….. maybe one of these days I will be finished with the transformation of myself.
Good for you! And have a great 4th of July.