This morning after I got to work I was thinking that in a way I am an oxymoron. I am sensitively strong maybe strongly tender. I am not sure if those are really oxymorons but I know I am strong and a survivor but I am not really tough. For instance when I was in prison the other inmates didn’t consider me tough at all. I can’t remember a time in my life where anyone thought I was tough or intimidating. To be honest I usually cried if anyone was mean to me so some saw me as weak : )
Anyhow I was thinking of these characteristics I possess and very thankful that I didn’t lose my sensitivity or tenderness after some of things I did and some of the things I went through. Those are the attributes that helped me be a good special education teacher, It was through these traits that compassion was born through my pain instead of bitterness and anger.
All this came about because I was thinking about my dad, again. He has been in my thoughts a lot lately, I guess because the anniversary of his death is fast approaching. My thoughts took me back to the Spring of 2002……………after graduating from the six month rehab in Overton Texas during the month of February I went to live with my Dad in Rockwall. Many people advised against this decision because we had such an unhealthy relationship and my dad was still an active alcoholic. I dismissed this advice because I had nowhere else to go, He was my only remaining relative other than my kids so I didn’t know what to do and couldn’t think of any other options.
At the beginning living with my dad went fine. But as time went on his drinking increased and he would be abusive. What happened most often is he would be drunk and throw his glass of vodka in my face telling me he wished I would have died instead o f Kathey because she would have never embarrassed him the way I did. That broke my heart a little more each time it happened. The hurtful words still sting to this day.. As I said I am strong but not tough. Don’t get me wrong I do not blame my dad for anything , I am accountable for all of my choices but my choice to live in an unhealthy environment increased my chances of relapse which eventually happened. By the month of May I was really struggling because I had to face the reality of my situation. I was now a convicted felon and there were consequences and limitations because of my crimes. i.e. my teaching certificate was suspended, finding employment was difficult, etc. Hopelessness began to set in and I relapsed.
It started so innocently. I made the decision to go see my old drug dealer. My justification was that he was my friend and I just wanted to see how he was doing. I rationalized and justified the whole drive there, swearing I would never use again as my palms were sweating. I hadn’t been there ten minutes before I relapsed and the downward spiral began again. It was amazing how fast I was back to using every day. It was awful. Ironically enough a couple of days after Memorial Day I got pulled over in Mesquite by the police. After searching my car I was arrested for possession of Meth. My father would not take my calls so I spent the night in the Mesquite City Jail and was transferred to Lew Sterrett the next morning. Thankfully my dad bonded me out soon after. Fear set in because I knew a new charge could revoke my probation and I could be sent to prison. The only hope I could cling to was that my probation officer wouldn’t find out since my new charge was in a different county.
Those hopes were soon dashed because my dad got drunk, called my probation officer and told her I had a new charge. The clock was ticking for me, time was running out. My next probation appointment was on July 18 and I counted down the days hoping and praying a miracle would happen and one did!! It was not the miracle I was hoping for but it was the miracle I needed. God is amazing that way and that leads me to where I started that I am strong but not tough.