This is destined to be a longer blog.
Upon my return from Mazatlan Mexico., I got a phone call that my uncle had passed, in Colorado. My cousin (his daughter), is like a sister to me. I had to be there to support her. This was a most unusual trip; for I had my mother and Uncle Bob with me. I have never traveled with them together, before. I found it an interesting adventure.
Uncle Bob was always my favorite uncle; he was sweet, and passive. Really a beat-nick at heart. He's had a life time of adventures and struggles. My mother did her best to shelter me from everything in her family, as a child. I never knew much about her family.
My late Uncle Bill was a complicated closure, at best, for his family. Although he had made amends with those that he loved in the latter part of his years, his life history was a jagged pill to swallow. I not only learned about addictions on this trip; but I feel I underwent a transformation.
I was in Littleton a total of 48 hours. It was the most intense trip I've ever been on. For starters, I've never been that close to death, grief and loss before. I've never been part of that kind of memorial service, or experienced the emotional swings from laughter to tears, over and over again, with such intensity, for so long.
Perhaps one of my inspirations for my newest endeavor, which I will be sharing in a moment, was Kirsten's accomplishment with the
Columbine Memorial. (See photo above) You see, SHE organized it, with one other woman, YEARS after it happened. This was no easy feat. (None of the victim's families wanted money,
at the time of the tragedy, to build the memorial. Consequentially,
no one was interested in donating money 6 years later.) During a brief break from everything that was going on, we walked to the memorial, at the school. She gave me the 'inside' tour of the entire memorial. It was magical. One girl even had a premonition about it, and journaled it. She was one of the victims during the shootings. They have her journal entry printed largely, in the memorial. When we got to the top of hill, over the memorial, a woman was buckled over on her knees, and a man was rubbing her back. She broke out into primal sobs. As I marveled at the scenery, seeing the sky meet the ground in every direction, like a large, mountainous snow-globe, I said to Kirsten, 'You see; even out here, we are
still attracting grief!' We both smiled compassionately at the irony of the situation. I began talking calming about how a single cloud seemed to choose a single mountain, and hover over it. It is so incredibly gorgeous and wondrous, all at one time. The women behind me began to calm, and the wave of grief passed. It truly was the perfect location for such a memorial. Peaceful in every way.
This kind of pain and suffering isn't for everyone. Who would want to deal with it? This left an impression on me. I learned about myself, and my incredible tolerance to suffering. I have a way of diverting emotion without suppressing it. I learned that I don't run from crisis or difficult situations. I learned about how strong I am, and can be.
But the next morning, I threw up. I was saturated with emotions I couldn't completely process. My body had had enough. So much, in such a compact amount of time. But the most intense part was yet to come; my Uncle and I talking, on the flight home.
I'm not sure why, or how, but some how, Uncle Bob opened up to me. He told me everything about his life history and his brother Bill. Out of respect for the dead, and for the living, I won't go into detail, but it should be known that I changed after that 90 min. flight. I now understand addiction. I get it. Fred and Dr. Kurter, at my clinic, have been pushing to make it an 'addiction clinic'. I honestly thought, 'yuck!'. Why would I want to work with those people? I was judgemental, and I didn't want to look at it, or them. Now, I understand.
Using isn't a choice as much as survival for those that have gaping internal wounds. These are the people who have an insatiable black vortex of suffering. There is no other choice for survival, than using chemicals for these people. I honestly did not understand until after this trip. And beyond that, their capacity for healing is SO MUCH greater than others. And being part of the journey goes beyond any feeling of satisfaction I can explain. It's just something your soul does, without question. I get it.
I was changed. OK, maybe I was a little traumatized; but beyond that, transformed. I can't explain the moment it came to me, because I'm not sure, exactly. When it did, I felt a surge of energy move through my body. I tried it on for size just once, to see how it would feel:
'I'm going to push Waukesha Country to have
Vivitrol mandated for repeated DWI offenders' I said it again, a little while later, and it felt like 'truth'. Each time I said it, it felt stronger and stronger.
What does this mean? It means that 'Me alone', is going to push to change the world. This drug (to be blunt; a shot in the butt), takes away the 'good' affects of alcohol. The patient is REQUIRED to be in counseling; working on their 'black vortex of pain' that drove them to drink in the first place.
Here's where it gets interesting. I started thinking about Kirsten, and what she did. I thought about myself, and how ALL last year, I fought the Richfield School District to create a Gifted and Talented program. I am NOT a politician; I am a spiritual advisor. I thought to myself, 'WHY is spirit making me DO this???' Every difficult meeting I endured with the Superintendent, and principal. Every heated phone call and letter. All of the hours of time I spent pushing to create that program. They did, eventually find someone to work with Nevin, named LISA (ping), and then she took another job up north. Several weeks later, in March, he started with another person in that program. We ended up putting him in private school, to better meet his needs, but the program is still in place. I even saw a newspaper clipping for a home for sale that stated, 'GT School District!'. At least it's helping realestate. :- )
So, this Waukesha County endeavor will be similar, but harder. I thought to myself, "I wish I had a contact within the courthouse.." and then I remember one of my students, who was the homicide victim specialist for Waukesha county and on the Victim impact panel. Perfect. She was friends with the DA.
I have played a little phone tag with him, but he sounds eager to communicate with me about this (fingers crossed). I also have a letter out to the chief of judges in Waukesha Country.
After speaking with the state Rep for Vivitrol, I asked to speak to her manager (I wanted to know who works for this company, and what they are about. )
Here is another mind blowing ping: Her manager got into this company because his Uncle, from WI (Like my Uncle Bill), drank, and moved to Colorado. Vivitrol helped him. Now, what are the mathematical odds that we would have a similar story of inspiration? To further my quest, he has set me up with the cell phone number of a Mental Health Judge, in Tennessee, that is awaiting my phone call. When this Judge heard about me, he wanted to help. I am hoping he will educate me on the politics of dialog and edicate, when it comes to communicating with a Judge. I know NOTHING of any of this. All I know is it's falling in my lap, alone, and I seem to be getting signs that I am supposed to do this. It's a feeling within me.
I wish I could say that I'm being compensated somehow by the company, or the district, but I'm not. If it IS mandated, our clinic could get business, but so would ALL of the other addiction clinics in the county.
Imagine if Waukesha did this? And then Milwaukee, and then the State? How it would clean up our roads?
That's all for now. Whew! This was a long one! Thanks for your reading support. I appreciate your energy.
