The best thing I ever did for my daughter

I wish there were some things I could go back and change … but not this.

In June of 2016 LaLa entered treatment at an eating disorder center in Massachusetts. It was a disquieting experience for all of us. While she was there she was allowed to have a phone, as long as it did not have a camera. They do exist. Every morning and every evening I would text her an encouraging thought and prayer. We later learned that this was important to Lauren since she had a great fear that her mom or I would die whenever she was away from us. From the beginning my intention for these notes was to uplift and encourage her, not correct her. Of course, there were and should be places where we did try to guide her, and hold her accountable, this just wasn’t it.

When she completed the residential portion of her treatment I stopped writing the notes. After a few days Lauren asked me if I would keep writing them, she said they were helpful to her. Knowing that Lauren and I are both visually and physically very kinesthetic in our learning the notes soon morphed into very colorful, doodle feeling pieces of art. Ha ha, not really, but they were pieces of my heart that I hoped would touch the hurting soul of my little girl.

I never realized when I wrote the note shown below, that it would be one of the last Lauren would read. Lauren passed away only 5 days after I gave her this note. What a sobering reminder of how important what we say and do today with those we really love is.

Attached to the note was a favorite necklace of Laurens. It was a Kyle James Patrick,   one of LaLa’s favorite designers, her mom had given it to her. The company was kind enough to make a special charm for Lauren when they learned of her passing.

The chain had developed several knots. Lauren, who was usually very good at minute detail and tedious work, struggled with getting the knots out but simply couldn’t. Looking back, I am sure that was in part a result of the ravaging effects of withdrawal and craving to use. I recently discovered evidence among some of her things that revealed the beginnings of her slide toward a lapse that week. Making the decision to use after a time of abstinence is most times not an abrupt decision. Instead it’s a process of steps that slowly build on each other to become overwhelming. Think what it feels like to drive a car severely out of alignment for many many hours. If you loosen the force required to keep the car going straight even a little it veers quickly off the road, but every muscle in your hands, arms, shoulders, and back aches and you can’t hold on. That’s what cravings feel like to someone overcoming addiction. This process begins to trigger the huge dopamine rush an addicted person physically and psychologically needs. Early in the process we literally begin to feel the high long before we ever get the drug. If we can learn to stop the process early we can win the battle.

The night before I wrote this note I spent several hours trying to untangle those last two knots. I even prayed for God to help me. True, it was a small thing, but I knew it would be very encouraging for Lauren.  I have come to learn that God cares about even the smallest details of our lives.

In the note I am explaining to Lauren that most, actually, all, times in life we can untangle the knots we find ourselves in … when we approach it right.

In this story of a family that lost their son we discover the kind of focus, intentionality, and consistency required to untangle the knot of addiction in our lives. This excellent read is extremely informative. The author occasionally uses the term “disease”, a controversial and dividing word in recovery today. Don’t let that stop you from reading it. The author is using the term regarding the physiological change produced in the brain by long term substance use (you can read more about that at WebMD). Addiction is an extremely complicated disorder. It can simply not be summed up in one neat little word.

I have included images of the card.  Lauren had been asking to return to work at Hollister. She loved working there but often the environment triggered anxiety for her. Her store was also in the area where many of her connections were. I struggled with the decision and choice because I knew how important working was to Lauren, and her recovery. A person tangled up in the throngs of addiction loses the connection to many, of the seven fundamental needs we all have.

Safety – Worth – Uniqueness – Love – Nurture – Appreciation – God.

Its not that those needs are not being met, they may be, although some or many are being met in dysfunctional ways.  Much of this disconnect is fueled by the relentless guilt and shame that accompanies addiction. Working was one of the last places Lauren could appropriately assuage these foundational needs. For ease of reading I have also included the contents of the cards below.

Writing these cards each morning for Lauren was a source of comfort, encouragement, and healing for Lauren and for me. Although I do not have the texts I sent in the first month of Laurens treatment at Walden. She did save every card but one. That will be the topic of another post. Thanks for stopping by today.

Dear Lauren                                                                                                      7/1/2017

I have learned that most of the knots in life can be untangled when approached in the right way … I love you honey but right now fear effects everything I see … I’m not saying it is right it is just where I am.

I love You  Dad

 

Dear Father Please help me today to trust YOU … Amen!