So as I stated I was being hauled off to Jail. Me, the one who tried so hard to seem like I had it all together. I had begun my process of falling to pieces. Pieces were every where of my very broken heart. I was bleeding internally, and very scarred. I could not see how I was to survive this. I saw no hope!! How could this be my reality? I wanted still to drink nonetheless. Just a little something to rub on my wounds. Take the sting away. That was obviously not going to happen. I was shaken, not stirred. Not yet!!
Booking was fun(not), checked in the little I had. Was given a blue jumpsuit, patted down, picture taken, fingerprinted, was told to spread and cough, and deloused. How humiliating!! How had it come to this?
As I sat in my holding cell I remebered a conversation my then husband, and I had a week before this tragic incident. He drank as well(often and heavily), but my drinking was being addressed by him. He told me if I was to drink again, and get caught he would not spare me. He would allow whatever consequences were to come my way. I had later found out he was the one that told all my neighbors to call the police if I came back around that day. It was almost as if I was set up for my downfall. My whole life was lost, and changed the moment I was cuffed. He set me up for heart breaking realities, and for the making of my fall.
Although God was still in control. He was ever present with me as I sat there sober(I hated being sober too). He was speaking to me, and allowed favor for me while I was jailed.
You see I knew God well. He was whom my life belonged to. He was whom I made my marriage, and my kids lives revolve around. It was my relationship with God(my savior) that always kept me afloat. Being affluent in the church, and a biblical calling was what I knew. So how had I strayed so far? How had I sought solace in a bottle, instead of at my Lord’s feet? Drinking had become an escape. I could drown out all the chaos, and calamity that was becoming my every day life. I could drink myself dumb to the truth. My life as I had known it since January 7, 1995(the day I said I do), was a farse. Married at 20, and always expected to remain in that union as God intended.
As I sat there in jail, my heart was imprisoned as well. I wanted out, but honestly only to taste the alcohol on my lips, and coat the back of my throat. I wanted to taste, and live oblivion. I did not want to have to feel the pains of my reality.
For I was shaken not stirred!
Failures, repeated failures, are finger posts on the road to achievement. One fails forward toward success. ~C.S Lewis