Bars Slam, I love but not enough.

Aaniin, I remember when the bars of the prison cell closed behind me...... for the first time and then again for the second time. At the end of 2004, I was wanted for warrants in 3 counties. This was one of the heights of my addiction and I was actively using everyday. I had 1 daughter at home. I loved her very much!! Some would argue that I didn’t because I chose drugs over her. It is tough to describe to someone that has not felt this feeling before and I do understand their logic even though they do not understand my illogic. It is really sick having a sickness. One that cannot be cured by physical medicine, although it may help guide your mind away from physical anguish. The sickness is really in the mind. My only cure was from the medicine for the spirit which helped my mind re-align which caused my emotions to move thus resulting in my physical symptoms reducing. And they do reduce everyday while some days are harder than others. I did not care when I heard the Slam.


My daughter was almost 2 years old at the beginning of 2005. I would lock her out of the bathroom so I can get right and she would wait for me on the other side. Sick. I always tried to be quick because I love her. Sick. I did not believe that I was worthy of her. Sick. I did not know how to love her. I was in pain, although not in physical pain unless I was withdrawing, in my mind. My processing was out of whack, similar to when your phone needs an update or the WiFi slows down causing disruption. And my people’s updates and WiFi were disrupted for a long time and I was not Spiritually Tech Savvy enough so I had no idea what was going wrong. This whole time, I thought it was me. Sick. This did not register when I heard the Slam.


Have you ever felt the pain of stabbing yourself directly in the heart wishing you didn’t want to do it but believing thats how life is, believing that’s all your going to be and that you deserve the pain and you don’t even know how to stop your own hands from pushing harder and harder everyday and every hour no matter how many times the people you love tell you to stop and you can’t even believe it is you that is doing it? But you have a choice...... blah blah blah


Slam. The second time I heard that was in 2009. I cared but knew that’s all my life was going to be. I now had 4 kids with one being born while I was in jail awaiting sentencing. I did not meet her until she was 2 years old (but that is a different post). I believed that my kids were going to watch me live this life and that was how it was going to be. I did not think of my release because then I would have to think of coming back. I had every intention to relapse. Slam.


Some would say that I chose that life over my kids. Yes, in a black and white world, I chose that life over my kids. But the world is not black and white. It is not even black, white and gray. It is every color that reflects the sun. It is every color that darkness holds. It is every shade of every combination of pigment that can possibly get combined where red can turn to blue and black can turn to the brightest pink that causes you to see the floating orbs while your eyes are closed. And that is just the physical possibilities of this great galaxy of life we live in. Take all the colors and multiply by infinity to end up with all the possibilities that the spiritual realm has to offer in this physical space and apply that your black and white world. To say it was a choice limits our cures. For me it was not a choice. It was a belief. It was a feeling, a desire, a sadness, an action equivalent to a sneeze where there are warnings but you cannot stop. Did you choose to sneeze?


Back then it was not a choice to use over my kids. It was a destiny I accepted and was living out. Now, though, it is a choice to choose my kids/family/friends/loved ones over using. The more I choose this, the more it becomes ”Not a Choice” but at the back of my mind there lingers all my self-doubt, shame, sadness and self-destruction. It is still there. It comes from the intergenerations of my family that embedded it into my society. It is now my choice today to allow experiences for my next generation to avoid the residue of trauma that I pass on. How to deal with, express yourself and to let them know that they do have a choice if I am able to get them to that recognition.


I aim to have our next generation avoid hearing the Slam that signifies destiny. To avoid having anyone convince them that the world is black and white, diminishing their trauma to a mere act of physicality. The gray area is bright and colorful just like the black and white areas.


Miigwech



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