There is something very empowering about my hands. I take pride in the many things they are capable of doing. I can cook, clean, and write. I can comb my hair and put my make-up on. I can braid, I can drive, and I can dance. I can hold a book. I can hold my 2-year-old child. I can pray. I can make hand gestures both good and bad. I can dial a number when necessary. I can talk over the phone. I can do push-ups and give myself a mani/pedi. You get the picture. Without my hands I am left with the inability to do anything. Trying to connect with the idea of ever losing them frightens me. Imagine that…not! Everything that I am able to do is because of my hands – Thank GOD! Gratitude at it’s best! With the many responsibilities that I have, it is very easy for me to give into my nature. My nature - giving up when life gets hard, having to write that check to pay my bills before putting food on the table for my family, and just being tired of having to move in a world that moves faster than I can even keep up with. I have a 2-year-old son that needs more attention than I am able to give. He’s all over the place! He actually drives my husband and me crazy but we love that little guy. His face lightens my load. I am also 7 months pregnant. For a 23-year-old you would think handling the duties of a wife, a 2-year-old son, and expecting a child would come easy. I thought so at first. My attitude was, “I am young and resilient to unexpected changes…I can do this.” My mother always taught me to never give up in life. She would say, “When things get hard, you get up and start all over again.” So that is exactly how I operate. At night I cry a lot though. It’s dark, and quiet, so quiet that I can actually hear my mind talking to me. I can’t take it even though I’ve convinced myself that I can do it. My mother would scold me if she knew my current situation.
I am pretty much doing everything on my own, yes on my own! So you’re probably thinking, “Can’t your husband help you?” My husband is physically and emotionally unavailable. He is also an addict. His drug choice was crystal meth and heroine. He’s been trying really hard to remain sober. It’s been 94 days. The journey with him has been more than challenging. He spends most of his days feeling sorry for himself. I feel like I am raising another child. I spend more time trying to build him up which takes everything out of me. I have this fear that he will use again but I can’t focus on that, I have to give what is left of me to my child, and the one that’s on it’s way.
All I want in life is to be happy. As long as I am taking care of my children, I will be okay. The only thing that haunts me is if my husband will use again. I don’t really know what I should do. The only thing I can hang onto is my mother’s words, “When things get hard, you get up and start all over again.” I will continue to cook, clean, and write. I will comb my hair and put my make-up on. I will braid my hair, I will drive, and I will dance. I will read books. I will hold my children. I will put my two hands together and pray because my hands get the job done.