365 Days

Today is the day! Addi is one year clean. I'm so proud of her and the changes she has made in her life and continues to make each day.

A year ago at this very time, she was getting ready to be arrested. She had agreed to go to treatment and backed out at the last minute, and our family friend Jane headed to a hotel to plead with her to go and she refused. Another friend, worried about her fate, called the police to do a well check on her. The police went to the hotel and found my sick daughter...and 365 days later---here we are! She hasn't touched a substance in 365 days. No "medicated assisted treatment"; no "drugs to get her off of drugs"...just cold turkey, withdrawal and then finally...the feeling of freedom.

In a year, we have learned so much about ourselves. She has learned that she doesn't "need" anyone or anything but God to fulfill her soul. I've learned to let go. I'm not going to lie---I am still terrified sometimes. This anniversary had me on pins and needles. Really, day 365 is no different than 366, but better than 364. It's just a number. The real accomplishment is that, although she is proud of her progress...she too, realizes it is just a number. I had asked her if she wanted to celebrate somehow and her response was "Why should we celebrate behavior that I should have done all along?"  She made a valid point. She should have never gotten in this mess to begin with---but she did and she has learned lessons that will help others. As a mom, I have learned to fight for not only her, but for others who are learning the same hard lessons. We have traveled this road for a reason.

I've not been blogging much because I wanted to give her some space, privacy and peace to keep moving towards a normal life. Her life has been 365 days of miracles and personal achievements. If you would have told me a year ago, that today, I would be blogging, while my daughter is in class in college---or that she herself drove to college, in a cute vehicle her grandparents bought her, I would tell you that you are insane. If you would have told me that her Aunt TT and Uncle Kevin would be footing the bill for her college right now, I wouldn't be amazed at their generosity because they are generous people, but WOULD be amazed at the faith they have put into her. Every day she is dressed and out the door at 6:50 AM with her daughter all dolled up, with a bow in her hair and ready for her day. That is a glimpse of the old Addi that always attended school on time, up and at 'em and organized for school-- before drugs interrupted her life. She is doing the "little things" that are "big things" to me and my husband.

She has also become active in our church. Sounds so weird to say "OUR" Church. We have never really had a church we felt comfortable or attended regularly. We have found OUR church in this past 365 days, in Carterville Christian Church. She is now running the video camera that she volunteered to do; she recently gave her testimony to share; she was baptized in November; and each Sunday, Chris and I watch from the middle section (where we like to be) and we will see her on row 1, with her hands up in praise and almost every Sunday, we look at each other with tears in our eyes. Her faith is strong. Her comfort level with the Pastor Robin Sigars and his wife Jayme is incredible.  She feels loved. She feels at home there. Robin is same pastor who over a year ago, found her at a convenient store (she tells me, she was about to get high), just so he could pray with her--is now "her pastor."  Utterly amazing "coincidences."

There are way too many people to thank and acknowledge without leaving someone out. So many people have given her encouragement, support, a smile, a kind word or helped her along the way in big and small ways...even readers, who have never met us in person. Our family has been incredible and have rallied around her better than ever.  Her Nina helps her with Evie's daycare so she can attend school; her Advisor at school has been a great support and understanding ear; her old high school friends that are her "real friends" have welcomed her back into their lives; just so many instances of support, I cannot describe them all. So many people have stopped me and just said "How is Addi?"  It means so much to our family.

The one person I do want to thank, is Addi. She has allowed me to expose her life in public view because her heart is big and she doesn't want to see others suffer like she has suffered. She has allowed the embarrassment of some of her most horrible times, to be aired publicly, because she wants to help others see the light. She has held her head up in the midst of shame to show others that there is no shame in being broken and you can be fixed. She has handled little things thrown at her in the last year with a clear mind, even if it may take a month or so to realize her feelings. She has forgiven quicker and learned to love people even in spite of their shortcomings. She has also learned that she can be an example but that she personally cannot save anyone else. She has taught me that "grace" is something you do not pick and choose who should receive it, but that all people deserve it. She has become the sister again, that her little brother missed so dearly. She has become the daughter that my husband has never had and loves her so much. She has reconciled with her own daddy and his family, which has mended a huge chunk of her heart. She is a great student and has recognized when something may be over her head--and she remedies it. Yes, my Addi has become a "problem solver."  She has a sense of humor again and makes us laugh every single day. She has shown us that people can change, and that although scientifically, addiction is a "disease"--it is also a a conquerable one that must be fought day by day.

Addi--thank you. Thank you for being alive today. Thank you for not giving up 365 days ago, when it appeared I had given up on you. You have proven to me that a Mom never gives up in her heart. A mom never quits fighting for her child, no matter the age. Children can teach mom's as much as we teach them. You have taught me so much and you have made me a better person. I love you, sis. I made it all the way through this blog without bawling until now. :)  I am so proud of you. So so proud. Let's do this again next year. Until then, lets just focus on today...then tomorrow...

To those of you who are reading this and feel that your place in life is too lost, too dark and too hopeless---we are here to tell you--it is NOT. There is life in your soul. Feed it, find it, and ask for help. Addi is no more of a person than you are---she just hit rock bottom and stood up. You can too. If she can do it, you can too. Please remember that...YOU CAN TOO!

"Gaining My Guardian Angel" Written by Sydney Brock Ross

My name is Sydney. I lost my brother 5 years ago March 22nd to an overdose of multiple pills and alcohol at only 21 years old. Every single year as the anniversary of his death creeps closer, the heavier he gets on my heart and mind. It's almost just like a volcano, erupting slowly with emotions at first, and then flooding me with memories of the exact day my guardian angel was given to me. Here is my story. 

Growing up, my brothers and I had a wonderful life. We had amazing parents who always went above and beyond to provide for us and give us the absolute best of everything. Every weekend was full of long drives, mostly to sports events, sometimes just taking us to the movies, or the skating rink, but they were ALWAYS there to give us the leisure of doing such things. We had it made. All of our friends wanted to come to the Brock house. Everyone was happy. And then our family was introduced to prescription drug abuse. 

My brother Ryan's senior year, maybe even after, (I'm not exactly sure), he started dabbling into taking pills. Eventually he was spiraled out of control on pills. Snorting them, smoking them, just taking them even. And then the lies started, the stealing, the fights every other night between my parents and big brother that I've looked up to my whole life. Me being as young as I was, (5th or 6th grade), my mind and heart were so confused by all of the chaos going on around me. As I watched my parents send my brother in and out of rehab centers trying to give him the help he needed, I also watched them develop tired eyes, a tired heart, and major confusion as well. They were starting to give up hope. 

Fast forward a few years. Ryan is now clean and doing well with the help of a detox drug, working good, and my parents finally had some hope. Until the small signs started coming back around. Pills missing here, pills missing there. Full bottles at a time would come up missing but this time the grasp had gotten ahold of Alex. I don't think that my brother ever hit the full blown addict stage. Alex was a partier, he was someone who would walk in a room and light up every single face in there with his big smile and goofy giggle. He loved to be around everyone, doing what everyone else was doing, and in that I believe that he got out of control without knowing he was out of control yet. He thought he was safe, that it would never be him laying on a couch passed out overdosing while his friends continue to party on and don't notice, (or do, but decide to let him lay there for almost 16 hours), he never thought it would be him losing his life. 

Eventually the partying did win the battle with my brother, and on March 22nd, 2012 my family got that unbelievably heart breaking phone call. "Alex is dead". Click. They then hung up on my dad. As he started to panic and call back, my brother Ryan calls and says "hey, something happened to Alex, I'm on my way home." My mom, whose sitting next to me with hair dye in her hair, starts to scream "ALEX IS DEAD! ALEX IS DEAD!" I will never forget the horror and sadness in hers and my dads voice as they scrambled around to call every police station and morgue in the city trying to find my brother. I remember telling my mom to stop saying that, that it wasn't true. She showered and they went and identified my brothers badly decomposed body. By the time my parents got back, my grandma and brother had gotten to the house and were sitting with me. My mom came in the front door, sat down on the couch, and told us that he had died. From then on for the next week, people were in and out of our house, bringing flowers, cards, food, love, hugs, support, and everything else you can imagine. The overwhelming support saved us beyond words and to this day I still remember every face that came in and out of our living room. Every single detail replays in my mind each year as the 22nd of march comes around, and every single year the pain is still there, sharp and shattering.

After losing my brother,  my life has changed drastically. Every day after his passing I have watched every single loved one around me crumble to pieces. I've been there to hold my mom, the strongest woman on earth, while she cried and screamed for the return of her baby boy. I've been woken up to the wailing of my dads sobs from the basement as he went through the items my brother had when he passed. Nothing on this earth will be more heart shattering than watching your parents deteriorate into someone who dreads their days because of the dark ache in their chest and stomach. It physically, mentally, emotionally and socially destroys you. It sucks the wind out of your chest some days to the point of panic attack on panic attack. And not to mention watching my oldest brother, who has been his best friend for 21 years now, (who has also struggled with pill addiction and has been clean for years), crumble as well with the heartache that DRUGS bring. Watching his friends, ex-girlfriend's, co-workers, and SO many more people ache for his loss.

Growing up and watching my brothers both battle with drugs, among other things, I never thought they would be the ones taken from this earth. I never thought MY family would be the ones getting the unbelievably crushing call from someone with the news of losing a loved one, and being in my parents position, losing their baby. It's something that rips your heart in so many directions; you're pissed, you're confused, you're sick to your stomach, you can't figure out why it happened to you, to your family. And let me tell you right now, those feelings never go away. Almost 5 years later and I still sit and wonder so many things my brother would be doing these days. If he would be married, have babies of his own, a house, what kind of job? What would he look like? How would he sound? Smell? Wherever he is, I hope he is safe.

 I've struggled since before my brother died with super weird depression and anxiety and I know how horrible the feeling of loss is. My heart goes out to every single family with a loved one fighting the battle of addiction because the grasp is so strong and so deadly. Life is so short; you truly never know what day will be your last. For those of you doing good, KEEP DOING WHAT YOU ARE DOING! Do it for yourself, your babies, your true loved ones. And no one else. Allow yourself to just breathe and live day by day. You can only go up from where you are!

The heartache of addiction and loss is something I will struggle with the rest of my life. Before you decide to pick up that needle, decide to pop those few pills and then drink on top of it and then drive, before you snort those pills or whatever you choose, think of your family, your babies if you have them. Think of your parents who have loved you since the day you were born. Or think of yourself and how much you are worth. Because I can promise you one thing right now, you ARE worth it! You are worth every single good and bad day. Love yourself enough to realize it.