Forever Strong

Do.  You.  See.  This?????

I wish I were exaggerating even the tiniest bit when I say that I literally thought this moment would never come.  I spent my whole life desperately praying, more often begging, that one day I would be free.

I.  Am.  Free.  

The past several days I've been so raw, going so far as to tear up in class tonight listening to a phenomenal lecture on survivors of childhood trauma.  I felt laid bare, though most in the class know nothing of the pain I still harbor some days.  But more than that I felt known.  We watched "Forever Strong" Monday for Family Home Evening & naturally I teared up & knew that would have to be the title for this iconic entry.  But here's the thing I realized today sitting in that class: I have always been strong.  As a child, my strength was finding a way to survive.  As an adult, my strength is doing whatever it takes to find healthy ways to be happy and feel safe.

Since I decided to quit my job in August, I have had the tremendous blessing to reinforce a purpose I dearly cherish in my life.  I am an awesome aunt, & from that first day I have relished loving Mia & Addison, then Emery, then Lincoln, then Owen, Everett, & Westley.

With Emery being the brilliant little girl she is & them now finally settled in a house, Amber decided to teach preschool again this year.  With so much time on my hands, I offered to take care of Everett those two mornings a week.  This has been so wonderful for me.  This sweet little boy, if he isn't taking a nap when I get there, now grabs two of my fingers and pulls me up the stairs because he knows that is our time.  I have even been blessed to have extra time with Emery in the mornings for that first half hour while one of Amber's students has his individual reading time.  For her Halloween party last week I got to help her get into her adorable little Christmas tree costume, put on her headband & "scarf", & apply the tiny bits of makeup necessary for a little girl to feel like a big girl for a few hours.

This morning Everett was asleep when I got there, & I was exhausted from a late night of homework.  I did Emery's hair (her hair is silly because she is silly & it's her hair, in case you were wondering) & sent her downstairs for preschool.  I tried to sleep for a bit & got up when I heard Everett crying.  Usually he is jabbering away, but today he was absolutely heartbroken.  I picked him up, laid his head on my shoulder, and wrapped his favorite blanket around his shoulders.  For the first time ever we spent 20 minutes like this, him staring at me while I stared back, sang to him, told him I loved him, and softly touched his face until he felt ready to face the day.

For an addict, peace is so difficult to find.  It's so easy, no matter where you are or with whom, to convince yourself "if they only knew this" or "if I leave here I'll fail again".  It's so hard to simply love and allow yourself to be loved.  If you've never been there, I'm so happy for you but I can't help you understand.  It's a darkness, an empty hole that I could never hope to describe.  It simply is what it is, feeling completely & utterly alone.  To find such a perfect moment of love and contentment the day before my two-year anniversary.....I felt so indescribably blessed.

Getting sober is such a tremendous leap of faith.  Even if you're crazy blessed like I was/am with a loving supportive family, at best you can only hope for this sober life you've never dared dream could be possible.  Hope for a better life, a better way feels so foolish.  To someone who has never been there, it probably seems so simple.  You give up something that tore you to pieces because how could life not be better than where you are now???  But especially for addicts like me who have spent a lifetime relying on this horribly pointed crutch, letting go is more terrifying than remaining in the hell that has become so familiar. I can't explain it.  I'm sorry.  It feels quite the same as running off a cliff & believing you'll suddenly grow wings.  My wings still feel too small to soar, but I could never pretend they haven't been enough to keep me from crashing.

10 months ago today (yesterday) I achieved another goal I fully believed to be impossible.  I entered this beautiful House of God and made eternal covenants with Him.  

I hoped for it but I couldn't let myself believe.  It felt like hope would literally destroy me.  I hoped that if that day finally came, I would feel all the baggage that had weighed me down for so long finally wash away forever.  Sad to say, that wasn't the case.  Sometimes I still feel lousy.  Sometimes I still want to vomit repeatedly remembering what my life used to be.  

But that day, despite multiple "surprises", I felt peace.  

I knew I was exactly where my Heavenly Father had always planned for me to be.  And that is worth more to me than I could ever hope to repay.  That was a gift beyond compare from my Elder Brother & Savior, Jesus Christ.

Here's what that sweet experience with Everett this morning reminded me: the past two years haven't turned out like my wildest dreams.  I think in my heart of hearts, I hoped that my two-year anniversary, if by some miracle it ever came about, would find me joyfully married to my true love for time and all eternity, maybe even a baby joining the celebration.  That's been my dream for as long as I can remember, to be a wife & mother.  But as Dorothy says, 

"If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own backyard.  Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with".

Do you see these amazing ridiculous humans I get to keep forever???

Do you see how eternally I have already been blessed???

Do you see how much joy these two years have wrought???

Do you see why I could never, ever give up again???

Do you see how much I matter???

Do you see how much love my healing heart can give???

Do you see how beautiful my eternity will be???

Oh my sweet little Ever.  Thank you for the glimpse you gave me into eternity today.  You are the reason I fought against all my doubts, insecurities, and fears.  You are the beauty in this world that I could not see without crawling through the darkness.  You, your sisters, your cousins, your mommy and daddy, your aunts and uncles, your grandparents, great-grandparents, great-aunts and uncles, great-great-grandparents, generations upon generations of loved ones who have fought & cried & prayed & trusted, all for me to become 

who I am today.  

And most importantly, the uncle I have faith will one day love you (almost) as much as I do, & the cousins I can't wait to see become your best friends.  For all of you, 

I risked everything.

For all of you I know.

Every sacrifice has already been worth it. 

I love my sober life.