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3.31.2010

spring surprises

The yard has sprung up with flowery goodness.  Some nice predecessor to us left daffodils and forsythia to bloom in the yard.  Spring has brought warmth and prettiness.  I like this.

3.27.2010

it's been awhile...

It's been about 4 months.  I've missed this blog, but at the same time, felt that most of my posts would fall into two categories.  Either so pointless that no one would care to read it, or so melancholy that people would wish that they hadn't read it.  So, I wrote nothing.  It seemed easier, and more merciful to my friends.

Because the truth is, my mind is uneasy lately.  It dwells on things that hurt.  It remembers the past that it did so well to ignore for so long.  It makes me want to stop thinking, so I numb it with mindless HGTV shows, facebook and websites that make me laugh.  But I've decided that maybe my mind would be more at ease if I stopped hiding the darkness.

I have many great people and happy things in my life.  I really do.  My husband, my students, good friends, monday night dinners, and crazy cats among other things.  I'm lucky.  I do not worry about a roof over my head, food to eat, heat for my home.  My job is secure, my income steady.  Things many don't have these days.

But there are darker things, too.  And sometimes, I fall victim to the shadow those things can cast in my mind.  I have a hard time letting go of the shadows.  Some days, there is so much bitterness it's hard to feel the good.  Some days, my mind replays for hours those things I wish I could go back and do or say or change.

Some of those things are from the life I live right now, but most are from a life I left behind.  Or at least, tried to.  But the life I led left scars.  It seems that in college, I was busy enough, or crazy enough or in denial enough that I rarely dwelt on the things I had run from.  I tried my best to create a new life for myself.  I hid the darkness of my previous life from all those who did not need or earn the information.  I was able to not be "the child of drug addicts" for the first time in my life.

I've led two lives.  The first, from birth to 18, as the child of addicts.  I knew from age 6 that my parents used drugs.  I probably knew before then, but since it was so normal in my life I didn't know it wasn't normal, so I never termed it.  My parents, at my mom's orders, never used drugs in front of us.  They tried to hide it, but even at 6, I wasn't stupid.  And my dad never cared as much about hiding it, so there were times we did see it, especially if she wasn't home.  But truthfully, there is nothing noble about not letting your kids know you use dugs.  You're still an addict and it still affects your kids.  I know she was doing what she thought was right (in the hiding, not the using), but it was stupid, really.  Because what it really meant was that I not only had to keep their secret from the world, but I also had to keep the fact that I knew their secret from them.  There was no part of my world in which I did not have to hide or conceal something.  That is a lot of stress and worry for a child to go through.  And I dealt with a lot that was beyond my years, but that I had to deal with because someone had to.  My mom worked nights.  My dad stayed home with us, supposedly to care for us, but you can probably guess how well that worked.  In addition to the drug use, there were other issues or infidelity, arguments and yelling that woke me up at night, and various other things that children should not be privy to.  So, I became responsible, and I cared for us.  Because someone had to.

In a lot of ways, my second life (age 18 and up) was my childhood.  Most people go to college and develop maturity and life skills.  I was finally able to relax a little and be carefree.  I was able to be the same as everyone else.  I still had my secrets, but I could just be an Evangel student.  I could do homework, go to class, eat in the caf.  And when I got married, wow, my family's world was rocked.  I got married at a suitable age and was not knocked up!  Unheard of!  And then, my husband was kind, supportive, held down a job and loved me.  And I held down a job.  And we didn't smoke, drink excessively, use drugs, cheat on one another or fight constantly.  We were certainly a new breed.  I had done what many children of addicts are never able to do.  I had rewritten my life, refused to spiral down the paths I was raised in, and chosen my own way.  I had chosen love, a career, stability, faith.  I had decided that "the sins of the father" would not be carried to me.  Truth is, they did.  Not the addiction.  But the sins of my parents created in me a bitterness that I still have trouble banishing.  I can bury it, but it comes back. From time to time in the last 12 years, my mind would drudge through the past, but mostly, I could tell myself that it was over and done and not worth thinking about.  It's only been recently that my mind goes back to those dark places so often.

I think there are several reasons for this.

One is that my brother is being an idiot and seems determined to relive the mistakes our parents made and put his children through the same crap we dealt with.  My position as a mandated reported meant hard, but necessary, decisions.  And the ramifications of anger that came with the decision to hotline.  I understand the anger.  It's hard for my parents to judge what James is doing when they know they did the same thing.  And when I do judge and take action, to them, it is as if I am attacking them personally and not just doing what I think is best for his babies.  It hurts them to know that I believe that their actions should have led to me (and James) being removed from their care.  It hurts them to know that I now believe the same for their grandchildren.  And when people are hurt, they often lash out in anger.  Its hard for them to understand that I can disapprove so strongly of actions and yet still love the person.

Secondly, as a teacher, I am seeing so many children who need to be rescued.  And I think back, was there ever a teacher who looked at me and saw that I needed to be rescued?  If so, did they take any steps?  Did they hotline my family only to be told that the call did not warrant any action, as I was when I called on my brother?  Or did they take no steps, since I was fed, clean and clothed, assuming that the actions of my parents were not interfering with my health, safety or welfare?  Or were there honestly NO teachers, or other adults, who saw the desperate need I was in?  (For those who hate questions, especially paragraphs of questions in an introspective monologue, I apologize...but it's my blog and these are my questions!)

Thirdly, I have chosen to do something to hopefully reconcile the two lives I have led.   Growing up, I needed someone to see me, know what I needed and act as my voice.  No one ever did.  Including myself.  The kids I see now, need that same thing.  As a mandated reporter, I hotline when I know I need to.  But, my concerns are usually brushed off and not investigated.  In the end, that only frustrates me more and makes me feel like no good is being done.  I want to be the voice for a child who needs one.  I want to be the voice I needed and never had.  So, I signed up for CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates for Kids).  After training, I will be sworn in by a judge as an "employee" of the court.  (I put employee in quotes because we are not paid for this, but they consider us employees because there are requirements and regulations governing us in the same way they govern the other members of the case.)  I will be assigned to a case and I will be the advocate for the child(ren) in the case.  I will spend time with the child, the parents, foster parents, case workers and schools.  I will make recommendations directly to the judge on behalf of the child(ren).  I will be the only person assigned to the case whose sole responsibility is to advocate in the best interest of the child(ren).  Once assigned, a case can last up to three years.  I am required to remain with the case until it is resolved.  I get to be their voice.  And I am glad to do so.  But the interview did, and the training and responsibilities will, bring up a lot of the darkness I've been through.  But I need to do this.  I need to put the things I've been through to good use, for a good purpose.  Otherwise, there is no point in having come through them.  So, I will be for some child what I needed someone to be for me.  Or I will regret it forever.  And I really don't need any more regrets in this area of my life.