About My Blog

About My Blog

Oh hello! I didn’t see you there. Soo ummmm, hi. This page is going to be a lot of kind of sad and depressing writing creations I’ve stirred recently. Don’t worry I’ll have some happy go lucky stuff as well, this won’t be completely emo lol. Aaaaanyway feel free to ask me questions and reach out. Thank you and goodnight. <3

(via GIPHY)

Addiction

He was doing so well. The money for rehab had finally been paying off. All those trips to the clinics and hospitals had just finally started paying off. As I looked at him, passed out on the couch, the hollows in his face become clearer, the ghostly representation on his face and body become clearer, he was still breathing slow and steady breathes. He was alive in technicality, but dead everywhere else. I wouldn’t wish this pain, this conflict, this endless sorrow and worry on anyone. Nothing hurts more than to constantly wonder if my son will live another day. To move on in life and go to college and get his degree in what he’s passionate in. To get a well-paying job and find the love of his life. To settle down and start a beautiful family of his own. “Mom,” a soft cry comes from my son’s chapped lips. I don’t have anything to say. My son, my beautiful son is dying in my arms and I have nothing to say My husband finally comes home, ready for another trip to the hospital. We’re running out of time… As he walks through the door, I can see that he was rushing to get here. Sweat dripped from his reddened face, his sleeves rolled up, and his hair was a mess. Being a former addict, this is the last thing he wants for his son, our son. I can still remember the time I first found my husband, Thomas, passed out on the verge of death because of his heroine addiction. He and I were only dating at the time and still in high school. It was the days leading up to our anniversary, we were celebrating six years of being together. I walked up quietly into his room, carrying his favorite candies, some popcorn, and his favorite movie. When I opened the door, I screamed at the top of my lungs. His parents came busting through the door only to find me weeping uncontrollably, holding Thomas’ cold, stiff hands. His mom ran over and picked me off the ground as his father hauled him over his shoulder to put him in the car. “It’s going to be okay, sweetie. Thomas will be okay.” She whispered to me. Every since that moment I vowed to Thomas that he will never end up like that again. I forced him into rehab and was with him every step of the way. I helped him get through the pain, I helped him live his life again. And after everything was over and he was all better, his way of thanking me was proposing to me.   “I love you more than life itself, Ella. And if it weren’t for you I might not have been kneeling here before you today.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As we drive to the hospital, a million and one things are running through my head. I feel dizzy and nauseous. Can the doctor save him this time? Is this going to be an addiction that he breaks? Will my son be okay? He went into the Emergency Room right away while the rest of us waited, pacing back and forth in the waiting room. I carry my daughter of four years on my hip. She’s young, but she understands how this may end. My husband stands by the receptionists desk, waiting to hear what the doctor has to say. My parents are sitting in a selection of chairs in the corner, trying their best not to make a scene while the rest of us waited. Finally, the doctor comes out, he's tired. My daughter, Anastasia, starts crying, and so do I. Thomas swiftly comes over and pulls us me and Anastasia into a comforting embrace, he’s crying too. “The doctor hasn’t said anything yet. He could be okay,” he whispers. Anastasia and I wipe each other's tears away and walk over to where the doctor was standing. He stares into my eyes, noticing the hope in my eyes that maybe, just maybe, Daniel is going to be okay. “I’m sorry…”

Art by llautella

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