So, I wrote my little emo heart out last night, so when I woke up I felt great. Down three pounds- just water, but still good. Healthy, strong, happy. Great morning, relaxed & joyful with my little family. Great work calls in the morning for some significant donations. The happy jig was jigging. Looking forward to a movie tonight with friends and feeling very drama free.
No sooner had I posted a happy status on facebook than a phone call came that threw my day into a bit of a bad afterschool special. A desperate voice of a family member on the other line who was too far away to do anything. A flurry of frantic phone calls to follow. A story of a hospital, a phone that wasn't being answered, and the fear of suicide from someone I care about. Minutes later I was in the car going to a place I didn't know, searching from the barest of hints. And then at a strange apartment, pounding on the door and then the back window while preparing to call the police and starting to fear the worst.
Thankfully, it wasn't the worst but it also wasn't good. It's not the first time I have worried about finding someone dead, but it still isn't a feeling that I have built an immunity to. And I have taken the reigns and tried to steer the boat back into the right direction, while also fulfilling my own responsibilities. I have a brief reprieve right now, but I know it's not for long.
I wonder how many lives I must watch be destroyed by drugs. It's weird to be immune, but to watch it destroy so many around me. It's a poison that I can only control by never letting it into myself... and yet I cannot save those around me.
Second, the dismal shape of drug and mental health care in this country is just pathetic. This is the not the first time I have spent hours on the phone looking for help for someone.
Third, I often say that I wonder when I will feel like "an adult." Today was one of those days that I do, most definitely, feel like an adult. And all my belly aching below seems so silly, so insignificant. My life is such an amazing blessing. And while I am tired and worn from today, I also still feel strong. I am not drowning in the drama and I'm not depleted. Sometimes it takes fighting in another person's war to see that you are not weak.
It's scary for me to acknowledge God's blessings- it seems when I do that something tragic happens. But as I see the soldiers push forward, I raise my sword and accept that I can help, but I cannot save.