Featured in
July 19th’s Christians In Recovery, Cruse explores the impact childhood
trauma has on addiction and recovery.
Wednesday, July 19, 2017
Bifurcation: Addiction’s Jeckle and Hyde
“A double minded man
is unstable in all his ways.”
James 1:8
The word bifurcation means “the division of something
into two branches or parts.” It may not be a widely known and used word within
our vocabulary. Yet its prevalence abounds.
Dr. Jekyll
and Mr. Hyde are two figures which describe a person who is radically, even morally
different, depending upon the circumstance.
Indeed, Robert Louis Stevenson’s novella appears to capture the chaotic struggle, as an
individual wars in the battle between good and evil.
It’s an excellent portrait of
addiction.
For, according to the literary
classic, Dr. Jekyll, endeavoring to win that battle, creates a
potion. Doing this spurs the persona of Mr. Hyde, who increasingly gains more power.
And, we see how the regular consumption of this potion becomes
destructive. Eventually, the personality of Hyde becomes so strong, the person
of Jekyll grows dependent upon the potion to simply function.
Again, this Jekyll and Hyde schism mirrors addiction. How many times have
we heard, witnessed or behaved in a manner which is diametrically opposite of
our “normal” selves? We encounter examples of “the angry drunk” or “the happy
drunk.” We see the introvert who, because of various substances, becomes the
life of the party.
Personality
is altered. And, frequently, that alteration has adverse results.
Concerning
our addiction experiences, it would, therefore, be beneficial to examine the Dr.
Jekyll and Mr. Hyde within each of us.
Willingness
“…‘Do you want to
get well?’"
John 5:6
First, we
have to face our attitude about willingness. There is no neutrality here. We
veer toward yes or no: to face our truth and to admit we need help.
Dr. Jekyll in
us may, indeed, be cooperative. But, let’s be real, even if that is the case,
at best, we are often clueless, even if we are agreeable.
“For what I am doing, I do not understand. For what I will to
do, that I do not practice: but what I hate, that I do.”
Romans 7:15
That’s where
the recovery programs come in, touting “trust the process” and “surrender.”
“For now we see through a glass, darkly...”
1 Corinthians 13:12
We need to
admit we are not capable of objectivity and of successfully running our own
lives when it comes to our addictions, disorders and vices. Clearly, we cannot.
If we could
effectively do that, we wouldn’t be where we are in our assorted messes.
We may be well
intentioned, like Dr. Jekyll, not wanting to cause harm, believing we have
things under control. Yet, we are unsupervised with our personal solution
potions; and a door to someone-and something- else opens.
“...the spirit indeed is
willing, but the flesh is
weak.”
Matthew 26:41
So, most of
the time, our “no response” to both matters of willingness and wellness, ushers
in Mr. Hyde.
“Where there is no vision, the people
perish...”
Proverbs 29:18
There’s
another translation to this powerful scripture:
“Where there is no
vision, people cast off restraint.”
I believe
that particular translation speaks more accurately of us. Here exists our
dangerous addiction alter ego, Mr. Hyde. We are confronted by self-sabotage.
Many of us are wrestling with various demons, compelling our passions. We
possess psyches which, already broken and bruised, operate from negative
assertions, things like...
I am worthless.
I am pointless.
I am joyless.
Indeed, what
drove Dr. Jekyll to look for something outside of himself? Deep insecurity?
Some form of “less than?”
We certainly
don’t see this character as content with himself and with his life. He believed
he needed something extra, something more, to enhance things.
“For as he thinketh in his heart, so
is he...”
Proverbs 23:7
He, in
essence, believed the hype of his Hyde; he believed that persona was his
answer.
And that
makes the next reality even more challenging.
The Tricky Heart:
“…‘Do you want to
get well?’"
John 5:6
Before Mr.
Hyde, exists Dr. Jekyll. Before behavior, comes the issue-laden heart.
“For where your treasure is, there
will your heart be also.”
Matthew 6:21; Luke 12:34
Failure to
know, to acknowledge and to deal with that truth leave us even more vulnerable
to Matthew
26:41’s point.
“...the spirit indeed is
willing, but the flesh is
weak.”
But, if Dr. Jekyll
is oblivious or hardened to that perspective, inevitably, Mr. Hyde surfaces. He
is the attitude which refuses to accept and deal with individual, flawed
humanity.
“The heart is deceitful above all
things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?”
Jeremiah 17:9
He is that
direct defiance of addiction as ugly truth.
“If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the
truth is not in us.”
1 John 1:8
And, once we
allow that to be our “normal,” we cross into another dangerous level. We are
emboldened to believe our actions will never catch up with us.
“He hath said in his heart, I shall not be
moved: for I shall never be in adversity.”
Psalms 10:6
Mr. Hyde,
sooner or later, will kill and destroy. My Hyde rages against our lives.
And that
affects the rubber meets the road truth of active recovery.
Doing the Life’s Work:
“…‘Do you want to get well?’"
John 5:6
The recovery
phrase, “doing the work” not only addresses the healthier action of sobriety,
but to an improved life overall.
“Keep thy heart with all diligence;
for out of it are the issues of life.”
Proverbs 4:23
And again,
our baseline is Dr. Jekyll. He is our vulnerability and our potential for
destruction.
“...the spirit indeed is
willing, but the flesh is
weak.”
Matthew 26:41
“One day at
a time,” therefore, is the necessary, daily commitment we make. When we
recognize both our need for willingness and our fragile humanity, we, in
essence, say “yes” to John 5:6’s question. We engage in
our work and welcome the Divine intervention which oversees the entire process.
“And I will give them a heart to know
me, that I am the LORD: and they shall be my people, and I will be their God:
for they shall return unto me with their whole heart.”
Jeremiah 24:7
However, if
we say “no,” Mr. Hyde rears his destructive head again. He comes with toxic
defiance.
“He hath said in his heart, ‘I shall not be
moved: for I shall never be in adversity.’”
Psalms 10:6
“...‘God hath forgotten... he will
never see it.’”
Psalms 10:11
Mr. Hyde’s lifeblood
is denial. And this mocks our need to do the recovery work, to change, to heal.
Our Creator
knows us: every thought, motivation, delusion and sickness. He knows. He knows
if we are Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde right now, right this second.
“The king's heart is in the hand of
the LORD, as the rivers of water: he turneth it whithersoever he will. Every
way of a man is right in his own eyes: but the LORD pondereth the hearts.”
Proverbs 21:1-2
This is
comprehensive knowledge of our entire health. And that health must extend
beyond ourselves.
Being Mindful of Others:
“…‘Do you want to
get well?’"
John 5:6
Dr. Jekyll
has enough common sense and decency to realize he is not an island unto
himself. There is a sphere of influence close to him. Impressionable souls are
watching.
“Let us not therefore judge one another anymore: but judge
this rather, that no man put a stumbling block or an occasion to fall in his
brother's way.”
Romans 14:13
This stumbling block factor amplifies where we
stand on health and recovery. For, if we truly have embraced the tenets of
sobriety, we take ownership of our influence on others. In our addictions, we
have caused pain; in our addictions, we have caused others to stumble.
“...the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”
Matthew 26:41
But, again, refusal to face that invites Mr.
Hyde to do what he does best: destroy.
“Where there is
no vision, the people perish...”
Proverbs 29:18
Again, we’re back to casting off restraint.
Addiction, much like our dear Mr. Hyde has, at
its core, rampant, potentially murderous, selfishness. All we chase is our high.
How much was laid waste because we let it rip?
Recovery unflinchingly challenges the addict
to face his/her personally executed desolation. And, part of that healing
addresses our role as destructive influencer, luring others into disease.
Again, no person is an island unto
himself/herself. The ripple effect, unfortunately, can drown anyone in its
undercurrent.
Let’s face it: Mr. Hyde would rather have his
potion than anything else. Nothing bothers him in the throes of his passion. A
relationship or even a person could die and it would not matter. He has his beloved.
Everything and everyone else is expendable, save his cherished addiction.
“A double minded man
is unstable in all his ways.”
James 1:8
This Jekyll and Hyde factor, to a certain degree, affects all of us by its
precarious duality.
But those of us prone to addiction have an
even more intense vulnerability.
Bifurcation’s definition, indeed, is “the division of something into two branches or parts.”
If we refuse to acknowledge and
deal with that, we convey we are agreeable to any misfortune which inevitably
follows our self-destructive decision; it is synonymous with our potion/addiction
and its madness for which we see no reason to quell.
Right now, we have a decision
to make: we can choose the single or double minded path. We can confront our
Dr. Jekyll, our Mr. Hyde and our disease.
We can choose to stop or
continue the division. We can choose.
Copyright © 2017 by
Sheryle Cruse
The Power of Tears
“... ‘I have heard thy prayer, I have
seen thy tears: behold, I will heal thee...”
2 Kings 20:5
There was once a product called “No More Tears”
detangling spray I used frequently as a child. As a little girl, snarls were my reality; therefore, this product was mandatory.
Mom pulled and sprayed my hair, while I’d stare at the bottle’s portrait.
Radiant mother was brushing radiant daughter’s flowing tresses. There were no
feelings of inadequacy, no complicated views of human emotions and no sore
scalp. The bottle simply promised, “No
More Tears.”
If only life could be that easy.
But, indeed, my personal experience with tears has been un-easy. Crying- unpleasant emotion of any kind- was viewed and treated
negatively, as something to be avoided, covered, silenced or punished. Tears
were the uncomfortable evidence all is not well; there is disease, pain and trauma
here.
However, in the last fifteen years, I have come to
view tears through a healthier, more meaningful lens. As we deal with our
addictions, disorders and traumas, addressing what our tears represent to us,
we aren’t far removed from the harmful beliefs which contribute to our
struggles and thwart our recoveries.
I once stumbled across a photo which compared four
types of human tears: tears of grief, tears of change, tears cried from onions
and tears of laughter. I was struck by their imagery; each seemed to offer a
specific signature concerning life experience.
Tears of Grief:
First, we see this microscopic picture of tears of
loss. It resembles a sparse wasteland. To me, the prevalence of the tears’ open
space appears as a lonely island surround by an ocean. The impression I get
from these magnified tears is one of disconnect.
And this was exactly where I was as I was confronted by my dad’s death in 2003.
“The Easy Death:”
Even
as I found connection within my faith as an adult, I still did not deal with the
unresolved issues I had with him. By this point, I was married, living in
another state, and pursuing my writing career. I had also been in therapy.
Still, the dysfunctional relationship with my dad proved to be painful and
powerful.
But I never thought he would
have such an effect on me. After all, as a child, I prayed for him to die. I
hated him; I had murderous revenge fantasies concerning him. I was thoroughly
convinced his death would be easy for me. Then, I could and would be
free and happy. Not quite…
Instead, my dad’s old age and health challenges
caused me to feel pity. I tried to get closer with him. But I didn’t get the
results I desired. Deterioration of his health, hearing loss and mental fog
now made connecting with him almost impossible.
The Last
Father’s Day:
Father’s Day has always been painful.
However, in June of 2003, I decided to call my dad to wish him a “Happy
Father’s Day.” The conversation was uncomfortable as his confusion and hearing
loss got in the way. His aggravation increased. At one point, he asked me,
“Aren’t you doing anything?” I felt slapped. I then spat out the words, “Happy
Father’s Day” and ended the phone call. I didn’t know it then, but that would
be the last time I’d speak with him.
The
following month, my mom phoned me; my dad had a health crisis. Having already
experienced a series of mini-strokes, he was now further weakened from larger,
more crippling strokes. This left my mother with no choice other than to
hospitalize him and later place him in a care facility.
Now
I felt an urgency to see him; it had been at least four years since we’d seen
each other. But Mom assured me there was still time. “There was still time.” That statement haunted me. I wasn’t there.
There were legitimate reasons why, finances and scheduling conflicts being two
of them, but, to reassure myself, I held onto that statement: “there was
still time.”
July
of 2003 consisted of reports of his temporary paralysis, sprinkled with
occasional improvements, like regaining movement and consciousness. This rollercoaster
added further urgency. My husband and I booked a flight for early August.
But, on August 6th,
2003, life changed. My phone rang at seven in the morning. He was gone. There
was no longer time.
“Grief teaches the steadiest minds to waver.”
Sophocles, “Antigone”
I
went to the funeral, spending a few days in Minnesota. That was expected of me.
My outward display of grief and tears and grief were also expected. However, I
could not comply. I did not cry on cue at the funeral or at the cemetery. He
was given military honors and my mom was presented with the American flag. I
heard the sobs and sniffles of people behind me. But I did not cry.
However,
behind closed doors, away from everyone, it was a different story. Night after
night, I was up until two or three o’clock in the morning, sobbing in the hotel
bathroom. And that took me by surprise; I was still convinced my dad’s death
wouldn’t be this painful.
I
was grieving, but I wasn’t even grieving him. I never really knew him. Instead, I grieved the loss
of the potential for that
father/daughter relationship. It would never be. It was further complicated
over what “should have been.”
There
was no denying it; I definitely experienced the stages of death and dying,
documented by Elizabeth Kubler- Ross. I would not escape them.
Upon my return home to Oregon, after the
funeral, I kept people at a distance.
I knew the right “grief speak” when I
encountered people. I would say things like the cliché, “He’s at peace” and
“He’s in a better place.” I would thank everyone for their prayers and support,
but inside, I felt abandoned, and overwhelmed with regret.
And those feelings eventually showed up
physically.
My
bouts with insomnia made everything worse: my nerves, my routines, my
communication with others and my spiritual connection with The Most High.
Everything was viewed through my exhausted filter. I had no will, no desire and
no energy to do any of the things I had done before.
“For my life is spent with grief, and my years with sighing:
my strength faileth because of mine iniquity, and my bones are consumed.”
Psalms 31:10
My
grief made me physically sick with back pain, an upset stomach and
sluggishness. I still tried to press on, convinced I could return to normal.
But, as I failed each attempt, I came down harder on myself. And that’s when I
got a big physical sign of my grief, a lump in my breast.
I
went to my doctor and had the lump tested, having my first mammogram;
fortunately, it turned up nothing.
While
being relieved, I was also frustrated. Why did I have to deal with this? My doctor
informed me the stress from my grief had also physically contributed to
the lump. Mind affects body.
“...grief can compromise our immune system... it is
also associated with more severe outcomes, including premature death. Research
has found a significant increase in excess mortality...”
“How Grief
Affects the Body”By Kathleen Hall
And
because I suppressed my physical tears, nothing else in my body was processing
in a healthy manner either.
“...
Tears help us process the loss so we can keep living with open hearts.
Otherwise, we are a set up for depression if we suppress these potent feelings...”
“The Health Benefits of
Tears,”
Tears of Change:
I was, indeed, poised for depression as I attempted to
stop change from happening. Grief was internalized for a year after my dad’s
death. I
could not sleep. I was crying all hours of the night. I repeatedly cancelled
meetings and appointments; I was unable to get out of bed and out of the apartment.
My
failure concept, therefore, was even more emphasized. It was just too much to
bear. I couldn’t do it, even though I knew that I “should!” I was going
through loss, failure and hopelessness. That was now who I was!
Tears of change, according to this microscopic image,
appear to crowd each other out. My impression is one which is overwhelming;
there’s not enough room to breathe, to think or to simply be.
And that’s where I was, now grappling with my own complicated
tears of change.
Trying to find comfort and safety
anywhere, I attempted to sustain my normal routine, but that was impacted as
well. My church was going through leadership changes. I felt even more
desperate and lost. I had no room to logically entertain the truth: everything changes
over time. But in my vulnerable state, this was the worst possible time for
anything more to change. Hadn’t I experienced enough already?
Life
inevitably moved on. As that happened, however, I felt forced to confront my
grief by myself.
“Waters flowed over mine head; then I said, I am
cut off.”
Lamentations 3:54
No
matter what anyone did or did not do, it wasn’t enough.
Now
I’m a prime candidate for the next stages of grief, Anger and Bargaining.
I was stuck.
It
was punctuated by years of my frustrated efforts to please and be loved by my
abusive dad. I was a powerless child.
And
so, part of my adult struggle was to defy that oppressive world. For years, I
tried to do just that. I graduated college, sought therapy for my eating
disorders, married a non-abusive, loving man and was on the brink of my first
book’s publication.
So,
when my dad died, all of that felt derailed. As I flailed in my grief, fighting
the existence of every tear, I soon found myself at my childhood conclusion: “There’s No Point!”
A
definition of anger asserts it consists of three factors: fear, hurt and
frustration.
Denial
of any or all of those three anger components can only be held back for so
long. Eventually, the dam bursts. We are crying out of anger, but it’s much
more complicated than that actual word itself.
And,
this anger issue is often tied to our perceptions of change, impacting our
tears of change, as we struggle with one specific question: do we have the permission to change?
Not
surprisingly, change was not viewed positively in my family. It represented a
threat to family reputation. Therefore, it was forbidden.
I
had not been granted that permission for much of my life.
So,
now, in the reality of my dad’s death, what was I supposed to do? The biggest
opponent to my change was gone. My abuser had died. So, why wasn’t I freed?
Because I had now assumed that abuser role.
And, it was here where I entered the
bargaining stage.
I’ll do
anything!
I was desperate to keep my pre-grief
schedule, commitments and responsibilities. I wanted to show how I was fine
(and not cry). However, my life was affected.
Chaotic sleep schedules, raging failure feelings
and a dry well of writing now existed in my grief. I couldn’t get it together
like I was supposed to.
When it came to the unavoidable,
inevitable life constant of change, I was stressing myself out.
“Your central nervous system (CNS) is in charge of your ‘fight or flight’
response. The CNS instantly tells the rest of your body what to do, marshaling
all resources to the cause... If the CNS fails to return to normal, or if the
stressor doesn’t go away, it takes a toll on your body.
Symptoms of chronic stress include irritability, anxiety, and depression.
You may suffer from headaches or insomnia. Chronic stress is a factor in some
behaviors like overeating or not eating enough, alcohol or drug abuse, or social
withdrawal...”
“The Effects of
Stress on the Body”
In addition to seeing a physician, I
needed intense grief counseling as well. And, it was here where I started
re-evaluating my definition of what life was now going to look like.
“...For
I am about to do something new.
See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?
I will make a pathway through the wilderness.
I will create rivers in the dry wasteland."
Isaiah 43:18-19
See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?
I will make a pathway through the wilderness.
I will create rivers in the dry wasteland."
Isaiah 43:18-19
It was here I dealt with another human version
of tears.
Onion Tears:
These may appear to be a most unlikely kind of tears
for us to face as we deal with grief and painful issues. After all, when we
think of cutting onions, what springs to mind is the chemical reaction they
have with our bodies...
“...When you cut an onion, you break cells, releasing their contents. Amino
acid sulfoxides form sulfenic acids. Enzymes that were kept separate now are
free to mix with the sulfenic acids to produce propanethiol S-oxide, a volatile
sulfur compound that wafts upward toward your eyes. This gas reacts with the
water in your tears to form sulfuric acid. The sulfuric acid burns, stimulating your eyes to release more tears
to wash the irritant away...”
“Why Do Onions Make You Cry?”
Nevertheless, they are important. As I look at the
microscopic image of these tears, to me, they resemble intricate snowflakes,
completely filling the space.
The Mundane Day To Day:
And that, I suppose, is part of the point: these
unassuming onion tears can represent most of what life is about: the day in,
day out stuff. If we dismiss these onion tears as a chemical reaction only, I
believe we do ourselves a disservice.
As I muddled through my grief and each of its stages,
I gradually learned a newer kind of normal. The cliché was still true: life
continues.
Co-existing with the grief, the pain, the tears,
mundane stuff also needs to be accomplished. We still have to do our laundry,
brush our teeth and take care of every tedious task.
And no, that reality is not easy.
Nevertheless, I needed to navigate that collision of the
mundane and the grief. Mercy’s necessity was a played a large part in that.
“It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not
consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great
is thy faithfulness.”
Lamentations 3:22-23
No matter how alone I felt, I needed to tap into the
patient kindness as I adapted. And strangely enough, the mundane daily tasks
offered reassuring healing. Life DOES go on.
And, all through that reality, further reassurance
exists as we learn and apply Divine Truth: The Most High knows ALL about us.
Scripture proclaims this Omniscience.
“Thou knowest my downsitting and mine
uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off.”
Psalm 139:2
We can be actively mourning, feeling our despair or
“white knuckling” our way through each complicated emotion as we carpool,
grocery shop, go to the dentist and keep life going. All thoughts are known to
our Creator. And He helps in the midst of all of them.
“When you close
your doors, and make darkness within, remember never to say that you are alone,
for you are not alone; nay, God is within, and your genius is within. And what
need have they of light to see what you are doing?”
Epictetus (55 AD-135-AD), Discourses
And, oh so slowly, as time passed, I moved through
many of those painful thoughts; I moved through my grief.
I gradually arrived at the living organism of
acceptance. And, within this space, I encountered a form of tears I never
believed I’d experience again.
“They that sow in tears shall reap in
joy.”
Psalms 126:5
Tears of Laughter:
Whether it’s the pain of grief or tackling any other
difficult issue, laughter is much-needed. There needs to be perspective and a
healthy release valve.
Returning again, to this photograph of tears, we see
its microscopic image. With tears of laughter, there seems to be “enough room.”
And, unlike the desolation depicted with tears of grief, these laughter tears
have some activity going on. But it is neither the overwhelmed, too crowded of tears
of change nor that of the busy snowflake action of the onion tears. Instead, we
see breaks, or bursts, in the tears.
And we can find, yes, it is true: bursts of laughter
can help to break the tension of any situation.
Case on point: the favorite chick flick, “Steel
Magnolias.”
There is a famous cemetery scene in which the mourners’
sobbing is interrupted by an explosion of laughter. The character, Truvy
punctuates this much-needed incident, “Laughter through tears is my favorite
emotion.”
And we can see, physiologically why there’s a big
reason why...
“… laughter
relaxes the body by overriding stress and anger so relieving tension – an
effect that can last for up to 45 minutes after... The positive effects of
laughter also extend to health benefits that can prevent serious illness. This
includes an improved immune system which it achieves by increasing immune cells
and antibodies to strengthen its ability to cope with viruses and disease... Laughter
also protects the heart by improving the function of blood vessels, encouraging
blood flow and over time improving cholesterol and blood pressure thereby
helping to prevent heart attack, heart disease or other circulatory system
diseases...”
“Positive Effects of Laughter” by
Mack Lemouse
Whether it is matters of grief or of
addiction/recovery, we all need a break from this most difficult work.
And, in zenith of laughter’s tears, we can tackle
life’s traumatic realities with, perhaps, the completely inappropriate response
of outrageous humor. We can do that with grief; we can do that with our
addictions. We can challenge the absurdity of it all.
A key help in my personal challenging of that
absurdity included heavy viewing of films by Mel Brooks. “Blazing Saddles” and
“Young Frankenstein” served as a reprieve from my reality. And yes, that is
necessary. Escape still is vital when it comes to the grueling stuff of life.
And it’s a much healthier option than going full bore into addiction.
“A merry heart doeth good like a
medicine...”
Proverbs 17:22
They are NOT kidding there.
Tears of laughter often go overlooked in the grand
scheme of emotion.
And furthermore, there may even exist an extra
complicated layer for those of us struggling with both addiction and grief. For
one reason or another, we may believe we don’t deserve happiness. Survivor’s
guilt, PSTD, lack of closure- these are but a few possibilities which can argue
against our right to attain wellbeing. If we’re not careful, we can easily fall
into the pit of believing we deserve to be in a state of despair for the rest
of our lives. We “should have” or “shouldn’t have” done this or that.
Therefore, permanent removal of laughter, happiness and joy is our much-deserved
punishment.
All the more reason, perhaps, why The Most High has
specifically created these tears of laughter; like all of tears, they have
their purpose. That purpose emanates from His astounding, unfathomable Love.
“...‘Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting
love...”
Jeremiah 31:3
It, indeed, may be argued tears, Divinely- given, are
so given because Elohim knows we, as human beings, need to express the wide
range of emotion we encounter. To suppress anything falling within that range,
therefore, is harmful and does not portray accurately just how important tears
are TO The Most High.
“Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou
my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book?”
Psalms 56:8
Our Heavenly Father is so invested in His love of us.
Tears are necessary in recovering from everything under the sun. They are as
important to us as any sponsor, program, church or step.
Each of us has an opinion about tears. What is it?
Answering that question and adjusting our perspectives
on these watery entities could, perhaps, make the difference between us
experiencing further pain or further healing. It is up to each of us to decide
what to do with this untapped power.
It’s about more much more than crying.
Copyright © 2017
by Sheryle Cruse
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