samanthawaters1000

samanthawaters1000

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  • A teddy bear taking a selfie
  • A wooden post sticking out of the grass
  • A rainbow unicorn with an arrow pointing upward for a horn
  • A little cowboy with a big 'number one' hat crying for joy
  • Moses wearing sunglasses holding a list article carved into a tablet
  • Clipboard with a piece of paper on it that says 'do it to em', 'get stuff done', and 'be a legend'
  • The number one hundred thousand under a small green monster
  • The number two hundred and fifty thousand under an alien
  • The number five hundred thousand amongst a forest of eyeballs
  • The number one million on the earth, being watched by a planet sized eyeball
  • A person with their palms facing forward, wearing an uncooked turkey on their head
  • Butterflies flying around a pair of lips
  • A body builder cat flexing with 2022 written across its pecs
  • Snow White smiling serenely while looking at a bird that is perched on her hand
  • The golden snitch flying through the air
  • A green slime splatter
  • K-pop 'finger heart'
  • Funky disco dancer
  • A cat looking startled to see a human dressed as a cat eating from its bowl, labelled "Karen"
  • Two slimy tentacles touching and forming a heart shape
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  • Desert flower

    Today Was a First

    Today Was a First Had covid not happened, today probably wouldn’t have happened. And like most things covid, I wish today hadn’t NEEDED to happen. But it did. And I did. It wasn’t really my choice. I mean not technically. It was my son’s choice. Long ago my son’s choices forced today to happen. I zoomed into my first nar-anon meeting. For the lucky ones who don’t know what nar- anon is, it’s the equivalent of al-anon, which is for families of alcoholics. Nar- anon is for families of narcotics users who became addicted and found themselves “powerless over their life.” Luckily though, I am not powerless. I chose to get myself some help from the maddening rollercoaster which loving an addict brings on. What a weird club to be in. Little squares of faces in the zoom boxes on my screen. People from all over. Tennessee, New York, Montana. People from all walks of life. I see in the backgrounds of some, the old wood paneling from my childhood. Others are seemingly lying on a beach? A few men, but mostly ladies. A few young, most old. Ladies that have been secretaries and treasurer’s in the organization for sometimes 20 years! God help me if I have to talk addiction for that long! I mean, can’t my son just get better? Can’t we just go back to our previously scheduled lives before addiction took hold? Can we kayak on Dr Seuss’s La Jolla beach in San Diego again? Can my son yell “Mom! Mom!” In his annoying loud voice with a smirky smile even when I’m answering him from 10 feet away.”What son?” “Watch what I can do!” In his best Stewart impression. Can’t we go camping again with his favorite Grandpa, his hero, who just passed on. Can’t we go scouting for deer, or look for deer sheds, roaming the mountains for hours, listening to my son’s endless stories of chasing a deer on that mountain or that mountain over there. Isn’t there lots of movies about time travel? So if they can dream it up in a movie then it HAS to BE possible right? Ok. I pick 1988. My now addicted son was 2. His little toe headed hair bouncing over his forehead. His head looked huge compared to his body. He stood up in the 1984 Ford Bronco 2 & pointed to a truck, “Dum bum!” He said. “What? ” “DUM BUM, I WANT A DUM BUM!” We looked at the big dump truck out the window. We laughed. He laughed, smiling at a little boys hopes and dreams of driving a truck full of dirt. Or how bout time travel to 5 yrs old? He was riding in the seat behind me in the driver’s seat on the interstate as we headed home from shopping. Suddenly, I heard a swish of air from the windows. He had managed to open the door handle and the door was open a few inches with a semi- truck barreling up beside us!!! I yelled, BRAXTON! Lean towards your sister!” I couldnt do anything but pray that door closed enough and he was leaning the other direction in the back seat, as I maneuvered to the side of the road. My heart was pounding a million miles an hour as I pulled over and preceded to yell at my child for his actions. “Why did you do that? How did you do that? What’s wrong with you?” In my defense, I probably didn’t say THAT last line, but I’m sure my anger took over in fear and shock. But in my time travel moment, I can have a do-over, see? I can take that little boy in my arms; I can say “honey, I’mm soooo glad you’re safe, I’m glad we’re all ok. You were led by some unknown reason to pull on that door, and you were very lucky and were saved from alot of pain or even death. Do you know, my sweet little boy, that you will face many big semi’s like that one? Do you know how they can overtake you and make you think you’re safe when really they want to hurt you? They can even transform themselves into other things like an ice cream truck to get your attention. There’s a secret though. The ice cream is poisenous. Soon, though, you will want nothing else but that ice cream. And we will all miss you terribly. You will have a little boy who’s just your age now who won’t know his daddy. But do you know how strong you are? Do you know that you can ge through anything? It’s going to seem like you’re lost sometimes, But I have faith in you son. I know you will always figure out a way to live your dreams and stop the enemy from overtaking you when you are tempted or have went down a wayward path. Oh my sweet strong little boy, let’s go have some ice cream- err I mean some chicken nuggets- and you can tell me everything about today that made you happy or sad or scared.” ” Hi, I’m Samantha & I’m the mother of an addict”.

  • A moment to feel ok

    It's so interesting to me, this brief moment of pleasure, that humans strive for. We (society in general) usually look down on addicts, especially on-the-street addicts, not the hidden or functional ones. We see them as some sort of weaker species: "why didn't they just quit ---whentheyfirstrealizedtheyhadaproblem-- or how sad-itstoobadtheydidntgetsomehelp". As we drive by, we pull out our phone to see what things will make us laugh or who liked our last post. Or we reach for the chocolate covered pretzels to let that delicious fructose melt on our tongue signaling those endorphins to release the dopamines so that the serotonin in our brains will make us happy. Hmmm. Same process, different 'drug'. I mean it's normal, we are human. We NEED these endorphins to even get out of bed in the morning. Everyone has to self regulate their emotions and find their happy place. The problem is when we fail to see that we are doing the same thing they did, no matter their reason for starting, whether it was surgery or one drink on the weekend to relax; some of us don't have, or lose that ability to self regulate the amount. Is that a character defect? Who knows. Gabor Mate might. Many other experts might. But bottom line, we are all human. We all need comfort, to feel warm & loved & that we belong. The fact that 21 million Americans have an addiction, with only 10% being treated; tells me that we still have a huge way to go in reducing shame and sigma of addiction. One way to do this is reduce the judgement that they are somehow any different than us, in the way of willpower or strength. We have zero idea of what choices they had to choose between, whether escaping from abuse one day or a traumatic event or just normal life's stress that we all have. Maybe next time you see someone who's obviously struggling or "looks like they've had a rough life" maybe we could offer a McDonald's gift card, or hand them a heart shaped chocolate candy, or if they seem safe, ask them if they need you to go buy them anything just for today to help them get by. 💞🙋‍♂️💞 How good would that feel to boost our endorphins for even more than a brief moment, probably for the rest of the day? 🧡🙏🧡- Samantha-waters.com

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