It's my fault she was addicted at birth.
Coming out of the destruction of addiction the shames we try to dilute are still accumulated and left over after evaporation. I have a couple HUGE ones. One is my overdose with my son in the car. The other, well...
|She made head lines. Page 5a |
references my daughter here.
I looked at her helplessly, through the glass in the hallway at the ICU. I watched the innocence of my daughter being shook by tremendous tremors, and IVs of methadone dripping into her as an effort to control the symptoms. Tubes were going into her throat to help her breathe, and a heat lamp radiating above her to keep her warm. I wanted to leave.
Carbonated emotions bubbled up from the gut of my stomach. Anger at first; "She lied to me. She said she was clean." As I stood there with my head hanging low in the vault of madness as I thought, "Well you weren't out of jail to guide her, it's your fault." The anger dissolved into sadness and the sadness to shame. Our addiction, lack of discipline, selfishness. Whatever it was, was now the cause of all her suffering.
I walked back to the hospital room where my wife was. I don’t remember what I said to her, if I said anything at all. I do remember what happened next though. I found her keys. One of those obnoxiously big key sets that look more like a shower loofah. On one of the many key chains was a pill container. One of those waterproof ones, you know, the silver and cylindrical ones. Inside in a little piece of plastic was a bag of black tar heroin.
Now I didn’t have a needle, but I was in a hospital. I knew I could find one. I searched with laser focus like a man possessed. Was this pain predetermined? My patterns of living were dictating where I was going. I found the end of my search and injected my future into my vein. How irrational was I to think I was fit to be daddy of my daughter. I couldn’t take care of myself let alone another human being. I was in no way a father. This shame became crippling.
A paraplegic in death I was; however in life, today, am I allowed to make her proud? One day she might want to see her daddy. Ha. I fathered her yes, but daddy, I forfeited that responsibility. All I can do now is to prepare. One day if she discovers who she was conceived from, she will not be ashamed of my blood living in her veins. Is it vain of me to want to be everything I was created to be? To still, in the future, to maybe, be the person she may need me to be? I don’t know where my life is going or what the future holds, but I do know that with God there is peace in knowing there is a plan. Peace is in the end.
I believe we have a Celestial gift for guidance to the higher levels of life. This gift is shame. Since I've become more sensitive to it it's grasp I really do get bad taste in my mouth.
When moving through the stages of my addiction I was protected by ego. Even the things I knew were wrong I could rationalize to be okay. I thought that it was part of the divine design for my life that my first born daughter was adopted by a wonderful family. A loving Pastor and his wife. Not only do they exemplify love for each other, but all of humanity. He started a church in Africa. God was protecting her. He didn't plan for her to be born that way.
Lesson Learned: It's better to look our shame in the face than to hide it to save face and to use it for our guidance through repentance.
The BA2L is real,
Be addicted to life,