A Story of Addiction & Loss

Author: MaryBeth Cichocki (Page 2 of 41)

Upside Down. Inside Out

Matt,  I wish I could get back to feeling normal.  It’s been so long I don’t even remember how it felt.  I’m now on my 3rd anti anxiety med and feel like crap.  Everything is just so off. I feel like an experiment in the medical field.  If this doesn’t work try this. Oh wait, that’s not working either then try this.  
I had my CT scans and thank God they found no evidence of recurrence but my blood work showed that my parathyroid is being a little funky. I’ve learned that can also make you feel off so I’m feeling very defeated. 
So, now it’s back to Penn to add another doctor to my list.  I swear since you died the list just keeps growing.  I’ve acquired a cardiologist now I’m adding an endocrinologist.  How much fun can a girl possibly have.  
It seems my body has taken a beating from the unending grief.   Your ten year anniversary just set me in a tailspin and now my body is revolting against me.  At least that’s how it feels.  
I was so hoping to just enjoy the spring and summer as the weather is finally cooperating and Mother Nature is showing her beauty.   But it seems my body might have different plans.  
So now it’s more tests and only God knows what is going to happen.  
There are days I truly understand your addiction.  Days where I would love to have a magic pill to make this all go away.  I wish I had taken the time to understand how you were feeling mentally rather than fighting with you to just stop.  For that I will be eternally sorry.  
I have so many regrets and even after ten years they still creep up and haunt me.   I wish we had just an hour of time where that veil between where you are and where I am could be lifted.  
Perhaps one day that conversation will come but for now I’m praying that this puzzle of my health will get solved and life will return to my new normal without you.  Love you forever. 

Fighting For My Life

Matt,  these last couple of weeks I’ve been struggling with horrible anxiety.  I actually went to the doctor, and you know how much I hate going.  I spilled my guts over all I’ve been going through and how I’m feeling like I’m losing my mind.  I never thought I’d be impacted by mental health issues cause I’ve always been so strong in getting through this crazy time.  

She prescribed Lexapro and told me it should help.  Well, let me tell you that drug made me feel worse.   I had days where I felt worse than before taking it.  After a week I called her and told her I had to stop.  Then I had to get through the withdrawal process and continue to feel awful for days.   So now she has prescribed Celexa.  But before I could try I wanted to get the lexapro out of my system.  And of course,  I get a head cold.  Ahhhh.  

So now I’m battling this cold and struggling to maintain my health and sanity before I can even give the new med a try.   I just want to get back to me.   Even though I was broken after your loss I was never this dark.  I now understand what you might have been gone through with your addiction.   I too want that magic pill to take this all away.  

I wish I could have been more compassionate about your use.  I never knew how powerful the mind is over controlling your thoughts and emotions which then leads to physical symptoms.  

All I can say is I hope you have forgiven me for being so blind to your feelings and anxiety.   I hope you know that I did the best I could with what I knew at the time.   I pray you are healed and free from any pain both physical and mental.  

Please know you will never be forgotten and I pray one day we will be able to feel peace and joy in Heaven together.  

 

Walking On Thin Ice

Matt,  January was a tough month for me.  First it was losing Scarlett right after Christmas, then your tenth anniversary, then my CT scans were all piled up on my literally breaking shoulders. 

I felt so overwhelmed.  My heart kept racing or skipping beats.  That familiar tightness in my throat found me again.  I became a walking mess as I tried to navigate through these emotional moments in time.  

Honestly, I’m still feeling off.  Like I just can’t hit my reset button like I always could in the past.  I’m finding my coping mechanisms are just not kicking into gear and my anxiety continues to greet me everyday with some new challenges.  

I’m thinking this ten year mark has just hit me harder than I could have ever imagined.  Thinking of all you have missed here on earth.  Thinking I haven’t seen you or heard your voice for what seems to be an eternity is becoming too much to bear.  

I had a meltdown yesterday as those feelings began to overwhelm me and my anxiety beat me into the depths of despair.   I cried for all you have missed.  For all I should have said and done.  I just cried for the unfairness of it all.  I cried and cried for both of us and for all those dreams that were crushed by your death.

I feel like I’ve lost both my boys.   Your brother barely speaks to me.  I know he is grieving your loss but I really just need to hear his voice and share memories of you with him.   We are all that’s left of our original family.  He’s the only one who shared our story who is still here on earth.   He’s the only person who loves you like I do.   

Somedays I feel so defeated.   I can’t believe this is my life.  I miss who I used to be.   I miss the future I envisioned for our family.   Both my boys married with children.  Weekend get togethers.  Bonfires on the beach with kids and dogs running on the sand.   So many dreams now gone up in smoke.  

I pray for you everyday.   That you have found your peace.  That you are surrounded by love, light and beauty.   That you have been reunited with our family and your pets and that you have met Jesus.  I pray for my peace and healing as this grief journey becomes harder to navigate.   

I really don’t know what else to do.   I can tell you time doesn’t make a difference all is does is make me wonder how I have survived this long without you here.

I wish you peace.  Until we meet again.  Love you forever Mom  

 

6:23 Ten Years Ago

Matt,   6:23 on January 2nd 2015 was the last time I heard your voice.  I called you in Florida as you were on your way home from work.   You were headed back to your sober house and planned to just relax.

We talked about your day.  How in just a few weeks we would be together again.  Ray and I were heading to the Keys and we planned to visit you on our way down.  

I was so excited to see you again.   You’d been living in Florida for six months and I missed seeing your physical presence.   I missed seeing your smile, being able to hug you and I really missed walking on the beach and discussing life.  

All I could think about was seeing you again.   You were going to show me where you lived and worked.  Introduce me to your friends.  We planned to go to your favorite beach and have dinner every evening.  

I can still hear your voice.  Our conversation burned into my brain.   You sounded so good, so happy as if life was finally going your way.  It never once crossed my mind that this conversation would be our last.  I never felt any red flags that you could possibly be using again.  You sounded absolutely perfect.   

Looking back, I wish I kept you on the phone longer.  I wish I could have recorded your voice.  I wish I could have visited you sooner or brought you home for the holidays.   If I had seen you I would have known you were still struggling with your demons.

We ended our conversation as we usually did.  I told you I loved you and was so excited to see you in 3 weeks.  You told me you would look around for hotels and let me know what you found.  Before hanging up you told me you loved me and would check in tomorrow.  

Ten years ago had I known I would have been on the next plane to get to you before you left me behind.  I would have held you and never let you go.

Now I’m left with replaying our conversation in my mind.   I’m so grateful we ended it with I Love You,  it’s what I hold close to my heart as I continue to navigate life without my beautiful boy.  

Ten years feels like yesterday and forever all rolled into one…….

 

 

It’s Said All Dogs Go To Heaven.

 

Matt,  yesterday we lost our precious Scarlett.   She started to get sick 3 weeks ago and it just went downhill so quickly.   I’m still in shock.  I feel like it’s losing another piece of you all over again.  

I remember getting the call about a little dog who had been set on fire in Georgia.  Thank God she survived but she needed her burn cared for and since I was a nurse the rescue called to see if I could foster her.  

I remember asking if you wanted to take a ride to go get this pup.  We both loved dogs so I knew you would be on board.   We arrived at the rescue and walked into the barn to a kennel full of healthy lab pups.  I remember we both looked confused as these pups were perfectly fine.  

We kept walking around and finally found this tiny little pup with a hairless back due to the severity of the burns.  

I remember you reaching into her crate and bringing out the tiniest little baby.   She fit into the palm of your hand.  We decided to name her Scarlett to make a little beauty out of the trauma she suffered.  

She curled up in your hand and slept all the way home.  She was so tiny we had to find a collar in the ferret department.  

We soon learned that in that tiny body was the spirit of a big dog.   She fit right in with our pack.  Her personality was unique.  She quickly became the boss of the pack and of us.   She learned to spin and twirl in front of the biscuit jar to ensure she got her treat.  

I had 12 amazing years of loving our precious girl.  You loved snuggling with her and one day I captured you in what world turn out to be the last picture of you and Scarlett.  

It happened so quickly.   I’m still in shock.  So unexpected just like your death.  One week she was good then she wasn’t.  Refusing to eat or drink no matter what was offered.  We tried everything just like we did for you.   The vet said kidney failure.  Nothing could reverse the damage.  We loved her to the end.  Her last day was spent in my arms.  I remember telling her to look for her Uncle Matt that you would be there waiting at the Rainbow Bridge.  I laid her on her  bed in front of the sunny window letting her feel the warmth of the sun as she did on so many occasions.   

I talked to you letting you know what was happening.  I wondered if you heard me.  As she took her last breaths did you hear me calling out to you?  I can only pray that she is in your arms now.  That you are both happy and healthy.  That the rainbow bridge is connected to Heaven and one day we will share hugs and puppy kisses once again.  

 

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