enjoylove42-blog

[enjoylove42-blog]

The Will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not Protect you

God’s Will… What is it? Why is God’s will sometimes so damn hard to figure out? How do we as mere mortals even begin to determine what His will for our lives is just for today, much less for our whole life?

A few years ago I did some real bad shit. I was stuck in a chaotic life running rampant in My Own Self-Will. I woke up one day, went to breakfast with friends, laughed, enjoyed the beautiful warmth of the sunshine, and was enveloped in God’s beautiful world of love and joy. Later that afternoon, I shot up heroin for the first time. It was actually the first time I put a needle in my body. Unfortunately, it would not be the last. I was 35 years old. It was a good day up to that point. I thought I was living a purposeful life. I had joy in my heart and wanted to share my inner peace with others. I was happy. I had absolutely no valid reason to put the poison in my veins. Or did I?

Back up to those three words, “I was Happy.” My sick demented mind probably assumed that if I was happy and life was good , how could anything possibly go wrong? Boy, it was the beginning of a lifestyle full of the three D’s. DECEIT, DESTRUCTION, & DESPAIR. I’m not sure if it was the drug or the needle, but I immediately spiraled down the rabbit hole. I was hooked instantaneously. I couldn’t get enough. I couldn’t get high enough, stick myself enough times, or just attain the level of out of body freedom i was desperately searching for every minute of every day. The level of insanity and chaos that ensued from that day on until I went to jail can only be described as pathetic, disturbing, deplorable, disgraceful, and wretched.

Within one month of the first rush, I had lost every morsel of inner peace, joy and rays of fucking sunshine I previously described to you. I lost all sense of ME. The woman I had known for 35 slipped away. All of the core values instilled in me since birth vanished. I no longer had the capability to differentiate between right and wrong. The only thing I could comprehend was, “I have to maintain. I HAVE TO do whatever it takes to pull that red rose bud back and push the enervating drug into my dwindling dehydrated veins. Be damned laws, morals, or spirituality. I had to invite the toxic venom into my body as many times a day as I possibly could.

I loved the venom, but I also loved the point. The repeated pricking and sticking of my skin. My track marks were like a map of misery no one seemed to even notice. I was bruised black, blue, green, and purple. A mental and physical avow of what I had to endure to remember I was still human. The pain was good. When all my veins knotted and dried up and the only place left was my neck to inject the forbiddenfruit, I welcomed the misery with open arms. Just one more stop on the road to my madness.

During this time I did the most selfish act of my entire life. I ABANDONED MY CHILDREN. It wasn’t until five years later in rehab, that I stepped out of denial and realized just how shitty I was to my own flesh and blood. My Babies!!! They needed me to pull my wicked shit together and be their mother, but my sick fucking mind convinced myself, they were better off anywhere on this planet but with me. Until the day I die, the look of disbelief and fear on their faces, as well as, the huge crocodile tear that rolled down my youngest son’s beautiful cheek as I dumped them off, will forever be embedded in my mind and heart. In that moment, i honestly believed I was doing the best thing I could for them WAKE UP LINDA!!!!! What would have been best for those precious innocent children was for me to quit fucking up our lives, quit banging dope into my veins, get over myself, turn around scoop them up, and be their fucking Mom. I cannot ever begin to express with words the guilt and shame I carry within myself for this inconceivable action. Yes, it was an action. I drove away that day impregnated with two feelings: grief and relief. I was full of self loathing and self pity. However, I was also discharged from a duty I was no longer capable of performing. As long as my children were with me i was not able to fully bow down to my selfish obsessions and compulsions. I was required to feed them, clothe them, keep utilities on, and provide a seemingly stable environment for them. Finally, I was able to think only of My next attempt to mainline my newfound god. I could feed my desires and fuck whoever dared step onto the pavement leading me down the highway to hell. If you have ever been in full blown addiction, you understand that I was incapable of providing them with their needs for very long. I didn’t love myself anymore and no longer required anything other than my next dose of smack. I was as previously stated, deplorable.

At this juncture in my life, there were absolutely no holds barred. Please understand, I was beyond help. I was in the inner rings of hell and my life point blank fucking sucked. No amount of prayer, tears, or pleading could relieve me of ME. I stole from every single store I walked into. I slept with men for crumbs of dope, I lied to every single person who crossed my path. I was so diabolical in my methods that when someone encountered me, they were meeting a twisted sick chameleon who could and would convince you that what we did was your idea and that it was critical for everyone’s survival in the world. People gave me money, drugs, food, a place to sleep, etc.. and I always made them believe whatever they did for me was actually for them, and it was in their best interest to do it. I was a conniving incorrigible cunt. I hated myself. I hated you. I hated God, I hated the fact that I had to work so hard at being a constant mastermind of corruption. Inside my head, I honestly believed that I deserved to have whatever it was my addiction desired. I believed I was an entitled HBIC, but truthfully, the only thing i really deserved was contempt and mistrust. I had become what my father once said, during my childhood, he hated more than anything: A thief and a liar.

I will never forget the night before I went away. I was lying on some asshole’s couch, and in an instant complete and total desperation engulfed my entire being. Deep down in the core of my soul the real “Angie” cried out a long and sorrowful plea. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I commenced to pray. (Some individuals would argue this fervent prayer to be a foxhole prayer.) That being said, It was as if I had split into two people during that time and the evil diabolical “me” had taken over my body and suppressed the real “me” deep into the depths of my bowels. I had been trapped in the darkness and my spirit broke free with a mighty jolt. I wanted all of the irrational absurdity to end. I prayed for God to help me. To relieve me of the demons that controlled my spirit, for God to take me into His arms and hold me close, to save me from me. I prayed that he would get me out of the situation by any means necessary, but not jail. I didn’t want to go to jail. (At this point I had no idea I was a wanted woman.) I felt in that moment a spiritual awakening, because i felt, for the second time in a few short months, RELIEF. I had just admitted to myself that I was powerless over the drug and lifestyle I had designed and my entire life was undoubtedly and undeniably unmanageable. It was like the ceiling of that crusty one room hole I was sharing with three other people, opened up and God covered me in a hedge of protection for the night.

Do not ever doubt that the God of my understanding has a sense of humor. He does. He also knew the only way to remove me from that “modus vivendi” was to lock me up and sit my junkie ass down. I had charges pending in four mid-Tennessee counties. I had been on the news for theft at multiple large retail stores in Nashville and the surrounding areas.

Please understand, I deserved to go to jail. I had been doing ”the Most” with all disregard for consequences. It was as if in my mind I didn’t comprehend that “I” was breaking the law. I was doing what I had to do to maintain. I couldn’t work with track marks all over my body, I could not pass a drug screen, and first and foremost had to keep myself off sick every morning. How could I possibly maintain the requirements for an honest job during this time? I could rationalize every despicable behaviour until all the king’s horses and all the king’s men figure how to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. I was, as so straightforwardly stated in the rooms of AA, in a state of spiritual, moral, and physical bankruptcy. In order to help relieve me of my will and help me better do HIs, God saw it fit for me to do 15 long months in various county jails. I took this time and severed myself from a sick toxic relationship I had been in for years. I took every class the jails offered. I did two rehabilitation programs in two different county jails. I reconnected myself spiritually and slowly regained my morals. God began providing me with miracles. My father and I reconnected through letters during this time. I did not get visits like all the other inmates, but I got mail everyday. I began to walk for at least a couple of hours each day in the small pod we were housed in, and my body started to feel better. After a whole year of incarceration my track marks healed and my obsession for the venom of heroin left my mind. When I was finally released on November 7, 2016, i returned home physically, mentally, and spiritually healed. Not cured, for a true mentally disturbed sick addicted individual like me, there is no cure. Only a daily reprieve that is dependent on my spiritual and emotional well-being. At the end of this chapter of my life I learned that God answers prayers. He gives us exactly what we need when we can and will receive it. Ultimately my self will run riot led me into a cold dank jail cell where God’s will began to take over my life and send me down a path I would not believe I deserved, at that time. WIth that being said, I will end this period of my life with one last thought: “Be ok with not knowing for sure what might come next, but know that whatever it is...YOU will be ok.” -author unknown.

[enjoylove42-blog]

My disappointment is miserable