The Plastic Syringe

This morning I woke up to Rocco peering at me from the side of my bed; his chubby hands holding up a syringe and spoon. FREAKY. I realised he'd somehow found the baby Panadol plastic syringe, I vaguely remember shoving it under his bed this morning at 1am after he'd woken up crying for the fifth time and I decided to give him a dose.

The first thing I felt this morning when I saw said syringe and spoon was ..... EXCITED. Woo-hoo!! Happy morning to ME! Then I realised, I am not a junkie anymore. I believe there were some traces of disappointment. Then Rocco did a poo in his nappy and Max begged me for a day off school for no reason. I was running late and had to choose between breakfast or a shower - I left the house with awesome hair but an empty stomach.

The boys were all fed and washed and clothed though, because that's what you do when you're a mother ... take care of everybody else before yourself. I'm fine with that. Concentrating on the kids keeps me from obsessing on myself. I'm too hectic to ponder my place in the world.

But man, I have felt strange all morning. Random thoughts tumbling, while I did a Pump class, went grocery shopping, did some writing.

The last time I ever went to rehab, I went in with huge bruises on my arms. Beforehand a friend organised for me to get a massage, the girl noticed my bruises and said, "Oh, did you hurt yourself?"

I didn't understand what she meant, but I just said yes. Because it was the Truth. I probably shouldn't blog about such things but I can't help it. I'm learning to not be so scared of the Truth. Something happened to me when Dave got cancer. I truly know what it feels like to really live each day. You know how, when something bad happens, everything else falls away and only the important things remain? And it's so simple? Life is so fragile, man. You never ever know what's around the corner.

I heard a joke in a recovery meeting once: "How do you make God laugh?"

"Tell Him your plans."

There's a sense of exhilaration, not knowing what's happening next. It's why we must enjoy the now .... now.

One of the recurring themes in my life is redemption. And restoration. I am not who I used to be. It feels like I got a Get Out of Jail Free card. It feels like I messed up my life so badly, that I died, but got a chance to come back again and live it properly. And all the people I used to know have fallen by the wayside. Why am I still standing when they are all back out in the wilderness again?

I don't know. I don't know as much as I used too ... but man I feel wiser.

So.

In conclusion: The Truth isn't scary. Taking care of others takes the focus off yourself. And if you're an ex-junkie and your toddler wakes you up with a syringe in his hands ... you think really strange thoughts all day long.