The Addiction Monster (part 3)

Mental illness runs deep through the roots of my family tree. I was genetically predisposed and destined for madness. I invented all sorts of serious sounding psychological woes, all of which logically and neatly explained my behavior.

My family meanwhile was falling apart. My paranoia and my obsessions were growing pathological. My Jekyll and Hyde mood swings were common but unpredictable. I would rant and rave uncontrollably over nothing at all. Then, when something serious with Lynetta or the kids did occur, something that required any amount thought or attention at all, I would simply collapse into a sobbing ball. I would hide my bedroom for hours at a time. Toward the end I would hide there for days at a time.

Through even the worst of my madness I was still able to put on my happy face mask and go to work. My coworkers knew that I had changed, but they attributed it all to stress. They thought that my teenage children were driving me crazy. (That is what I had told them anyway) They had no idea.

I was still able to wear my church mask as well. It frustrated Lynetta to no end, how I could literally put her through a Saturday night of Hell, and then calmly and quietly walk into church Sunday morning and act as if everything was just fine. (That was a trick that I learned in my childhood)

I quit singing. I quit praying. I just wanted it over with.

At the time I thought that I was just too big of a whimp to pull the trigger. Not a literal trigger of course (I don’t own a gun). My trigger was much neater and less messy. My trigger was a 5cc syringe and a 25 gauge needle. The syringe was to be filled first with the good stuff, to take away my pain, then the bad stuff, to take away my life.

Looking back now I realize that God had not walked away from me at all. He had let the monster out of his cage. He did allow the monster to punish me, to hurt me, to teach me, to humble me, but he would not allow the monster to kill me. God remained right there beside me the whole time.

It reminds me of a Bible story I once read:
Job 2:6 The Lord said to Satan, “Very well, then, he is in your hands; but you must spare his life.”