Plato said, “No one is more hated than the one who speaks the truth.”
The Celtic tree of life is a symbol of strength, and in the Bible trees are mentioned numerous times. In fact other than people and God, trees are the most mentioned living things in the Bible.
Trees are symbols of strength, individuality and expression, calmness, growth and the interconnectedness of everything. They also keep us firmly rooted to our foundation and reach for our Father. It is no surprise, then, that in the face of tragedy or troubling times, trees often become symbols of resilience, perseverance, and hope.
But you can’t have those things without truth. Plato himself said “No one is more hated than he who tells the truth.” This story is true, but its ugly, so ugly that I havent received one comment EXCEPT for one from a faithful friend. “Keep writing, Chelsea. “Keep going.” Thank you friend. You know who you are.
6/2/23 – I was incorrect when I said I’d received no comments. A few faithful friends are reading and spurring me on. Just yesterday actually. Yesterday was my 40th birthday and I never would’ve made it if it hadn’t been for Isaac and the work of the Holy Spirit. So I’m celebrating. In fact I’ve been celebrating all year. I knew this would be the year that I told my story.
It’s hard to know what to talk about next; the alcohol, the pain killers, the smoking, the neglect. It started with the alcohol. At first it was just one shot in the morning. Then it became four. I was drinking during the day; after breakfast just because I thought it would help me get through the day. If it wasn’t for my meds I would struggle. Having a baby made me an alcoholic. Having a baby made me a drug addict. My husband had his wisdom teeth removed and didn’t need his pain meds but I did. I needed to feel differently than I felt in the moment. That’s what it’s about. The next time you find yourself judging an addict stop and think. Why are they doing this? I’ll tell you why. There doing it because they need to feel different then they feel in that moment, and they need to self medicate. Many don’t have insurance but those who do will lie and do anything including stealing to get the pain meds. I don’t remember having physical pain, but mentally and emotionally and spiritually I was broken. I would mix the drugs with the alcohol. Gods angels protected me from death. I didn’t see it until I was well, but even though I had felt like He was just sitting and watching me suffer, God was carrying me the whole way. My doctors were giving me the wrong medication. I had developed Bipolar disorder, I needed a psychiatrist help not primary care. I needed psychotropic meds. I needed lithium. I needed a mood stabilizer. Antidepressants without a mood stabilizer cause bipolar to be 100 times worse and I began to hate my husband. I had murdered my marriage. He started to hate me too and didn’t know how ill I was until I finally saw a psychiatrist.
I didn’t play with Isaac. I didn’t teach him the alphabet. I didn’t stack blocks with him. I fed him, but I’d leave him in his crib until 11 o’clock because I couldn’t get up out of my bed. Very few people thought that I was sick. Most thought that I just didn’t care; that I just was immature. I wasn’t just neglecting Isaac. I was neglecting myself, missing all my appointments. Becoming a red flag patient.
One day I was determined to make it to my Doctors appointment on time and I got up and I put make up on for the first time in months and I did my hair and I changed my clothes and I drove to the appointment and the secretary told me that the appointment has been the day before. I was losing my mind. I needed help, but I couldn’t tell people what I was doing or what I was going through. I decided that I was gonna die if I kept mixing alcohol with drugs, and we’re talking a lot of drugs. So I just decided to start smoking instead. It was an unforgivable deal breaker for my husband, so I kept it a secret.
I don’t recommend smoking to anybody. It has clearly been proven to be deadly. But it is one of the most therapeutic things I have ever done in my life. So when you find yourself judging the smoker next to you, ask yourself, “why are they doing it?” I promise you there’s a reason.
I still loved him and couldn’t keep secrets from him, so I confessed to my husband and received no Mercy. It would be 10 years before I told him why I did it. Then he understood. Then he realized that I was trying not to die, even though every part of me wanted to.
At the time my husband didn’t understand, and our marriage began to fall apart. Perhaps my statement, “I murdered our marriage” was a premonition. I had never hated anybody more… But God is greater.
We will adapt. 