Graduation day, one by one names being called as proud parents shed tears of jubilation and young adults rise to walk. Receiving the hard worked for diploma and throwing the cap in the air were and remain one of the greatest honors in our young lives. That honor, that day, those tear filled parents are not, however, part of my story. I never waked, never received that hard worked for diploma, never threw my cap.
Instead of that walk and the pride of holding a diploma I cared for my brother and watched my mom deteriorate. Stuffing the emotions that daily threatened to knock down my survivor walls I pressed on.   What choice did I have? Failure was not an option. GED, some military, operation after operation leading to the eventual donation of half of a hand, and there I was, back in the thick of it. Having no where else to go, I went home.
Downward spiral and/or escalation of behaviors, either one could describe my mothers existence at the time. I had learned that succumbing to the numbness was lifesaving but it was becoming harder by the day.
Numerous surgeries resulted in numerous medications and to my mothers delight I was on home pain meds. The pain was excruciating and I couldn't figure out why it still hurt so badly even after my mom administered my meds. Unable to to sleep through the pain I woke one night and made my way to the kitchen. Turning the corner I found my mother on the floor giving herself a shot in her leg, it was my pain medicine. No wonder I was in pain! My survivor barrier walls temporarily crumbled as I went back to my room and wept. I had seen a lot but the sight of my mom injecting my medicine into her own body and knowing I was in pain was simply too much to comprehend.  My heart was breaking with agonizing sadness while my anger fought for first place in this emotional battle.
Quickly the walls were built back up and emotions tucked safely away. I made a mental decision to deal with the pain knowing I wouldn't have any relief. I remember always telling myself "it can't get any worse" but oh was I wrong.

Still today I am but wet clay being molded and shaped. That molding albeit painstaking is enlightening and filled with beautiful mystery as I grow. My questioning of God's whereabouts during my horrific life moments has waned as I see His goodness in all that I have. Blessings are abundant and even in the darkness He was and is there.