They say if life is worth living, it's worth writing about. My life is certainly worth living, although there was a time I didn't think so.

I wasn't finding much happiness, just going on with life as it came to me. I guess I was taking everything for granted that I had. I was hiding the pain of my past with narcotics, knowing it was wrong and knowing that everyone knew what I was doing. But frankly, I didn't care. I did my job, carried on my duties as a wife and mother. And I was completely empty inside. I was afraid to face myself and that child inside that hurt so badly.

Oh, not that I was getting high everyday on marijuana or anything. Prescription codeine was my drug of choice. At first it was for headaches and good old Dr. Miller would give them to me like candy. I found that not only did they do wonders for my headaches (and any other aches and pains), they also made me happier, more productive and most important, forget all about the pain of my past. That my mother didn't like me, didn't know my father, I hadn't heard from my brothers in years and worse of all, the most important people in my life had passed away, my grandparents. I felt totally alone. My children now had their own lives and I didn't think Ken much cared one way or another what I did. Prescription drugs made me forget all that and I felt good about myself.

Taking one or two a day was good for a long time, but of course as anyone knows, you soon have to add a couple every day, and then more and more and more. I took enough to keep feeling good, but was very careful not to over dose. And Dr. Miller just kept on prescribing for me. It would catch up to me sometimes and I would need to sleep it off for a day or so. But otherwise, I thought I had it pretty well under control (I thought). Drug addicts are such fools though. Everyone knew what was wrong with me. I knew it, but wouldn't admit it.

I didn't know I was pushing my loved ones away. That they were just tolerating my behavior. I was in my own little selfish world. I knew one day it would all come tumbling down around me, I just didn't know how or when. That's when God stepped in and said "enough"! I got very, very sick and almost died. That was my wake up call. God let me live through an otherwise fatal illness to make me realize how much I was loved and how I had been screwing up.

When I finally realized how close I came to death, and what a miracle had occurred in my life, I cried for days with gratitude. Oh, not all at once. But off and on when I would think about the magnitude of it all, I would become so overwhelmed, it would bring tears to my eyes, as it does even as I write this.

Now, I must live with the knowledge that I caused so much pain to my children, and Ken. The people who love me the most. I must live with the knowledge that I missed a lot of their lives because I was so disconnected from theirs.

Their forgiveness has been a significant factor in my miracle. It was all a part of God's plan, I'm sure. He blessed me with so much and had to take me close to death to wake me up. I am forever grateful and Blessed and only wish I had not wasted so much time realizing it. I love my life now....the good parts and the bad parts. But I am finding there are many more good parts. As far as my past is concerned, I've had to learn to deal with it a little at a time, in small bites and then let it go.

This journal is not only for my loved ones, but as a reminder to me of how great my family truly is and how not to ever, ever, ever take the life God so graciously gave you for granted or to abuse it.