It's been awhile since I've written here. I've been busy with adventuring, grad school, my volunteer activities and the new boyfriend. I guess you could say I've been busy living my life. Only today, I needed to come here. I needed to write.
I'm not here to talk about any of those, although - there will be some upcoming posts. I swear.
As most of you know, my newest adventure has started. I'm officially a published author. My book "Spoons and Needles - The story of how addiction impacts a family," has finally been released. It's started a roller coaster of emotions.
See, I didn't get here without loss. Many of you know my story. You know how much was lost to me, and what I went through. Writing was an is the only way I know how to heal. It's the only outlet I had.
Let's talk about my book first. "Spoons and Needles" is a fictional book, based on real emotions. It is told from the perspective of an addict who overdoses, an addict in recovery, the daughter of an addict, the father of an addict, and the mother of an addict. It follows their emotions, from anger, disbelief, blaming themselves. These are all real, true emotions that the loved ones of addicts face. It's painful.
It's painful to look at yourself in the mirror and say "Why didn't I know?" It's painful to wonder "What could I have done more?" and the biggest hurt is always "Why didn't they love me enough to not do that?"
My novel reads like a young adult novel. I'm okay with that. I wrote it because that's how I felt those emotions. I felt alone in my hurt. I felt like no one else would understand. I was angry at them, I was angry at myself, and I was angry at God.
I reached out to addicts, and police officers. I talked to parents of addicts. I read everything I could find on addiction and recovery. I read studies. I found out I wasn't alone. In fact, 13,000 children are currently in foster care in the state of Ohio because their parents are addicts. Ohio has the second highest rate of deaths in the nation due to overdoses. In 2017, 4,293 overdoses were reported.
So let me tell you. I don't feel brave. I did what I know how to do, and put my emotions onto paper. All day today, I have heard two things; Gina's laughter, and Dane saying "You got this, sis." and both things have hurt.
Hearing those things have hurt, even though I know they would be proud of me. I would take back all the pride if I could hear those things, those real voices just one more time.
So here I am, a published author, with her first author signing at the Findlay Library on November 9th.
This novel is bittersweet. I know I'll have a couple angels touching my shoulder that day.
