It's All Good!

By Susan Moeller and Richard Moeller

ADDICTION, a near death trauma, family bonds, unexpected blessings.
Rich's life is spiraling out of control. Consumed by addiction to alcohol, opioid prescription drugs, and gambling, his attempts to drown out the darkness and reality of a troubled childhood will lead to unimaginable trials for his family. His wife, Sue, struggles to help him but fears all hope is lost. In an instant, a horrific diagnosis after a sudden traumatic brain injury could end it all.
It's All Good! is an honest account of the trials one family has endured due to the impact of addiction. Discover how, even in the depths of darkness, when there seems to be no hope left, an addict's life can be turned around.
If you enjoy reading real-life stories and inspiring memoirs, or you know someone suffering from the chains of addiction, It's All Good! is one you will want to add to your collection and share with family and friends. Read the emotionally captivating testimony of how, after nearly losing everything, hitting rock bottom forced this family to look up. See how a ray of hope can light the path to a life filled with freedom and blessings from above!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Moeller
• Release date: May 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9780999076033

Book preview

Introduction

This book is about the impact addictions have had on our family and how we have learned to face and overcome them. It is not intended to be an educational or reference novel. It is merely our story, our testimony, if you will, in our own words, of how our lives have been impacted and changed for the better. We have written this book with complete honesty and factual accounts of our real-life events so that our testimony might sprout hope for those who may be suffering through similar circumstances.

My name is Sue, and I am writing this book together with my husband Rich’s help to tell others our story in hopes they may be encouraged if they are facing similar challenges with addictions. You are not alone in your suffering. There is hope and light at the end of the tunnel if you are willing to give up control over your life and have faith.

Of course, we have not always felt this way in the past because we were lost for so many years, experiencing life in our society and walking alone without Jesus in our hearts. We have suffered through many times of desperation, feeling like all hope was lost. My husband and I encourage you to read our story if you or someone close to you may be at a point where you feel there is no hope. We invite you along on our journey so you can see how our lives have been transformed and turned around for the better. We have survived dire financial hardships, a traumatic brain injury experienced by my husband, and so many other heart-wrenching life circumstances resulting from multiple addictions, which have impacted our entire family. We understand the heartbreaking trials so many people facing addiction and their loved ones are experiencing each and every day. We have found peace and a path forward by trusting in God and standing strong in our faith. We have decided to write this book because we feel strongly about sharing what we have learned with others in similar circumstances. We know your life can be turned around as well, no matter how desperate or hopeless your situation may seem. We pray for all those suffering from addiction and their families every day. We also pray this book reaches many who may be suffering and might benefit from reading our story.

God is GOOD ALL THE TIME! Every day is a new and wonderful adventure in our lives now, thanks to our Lord and Savior!

Chapter One

The Fall to Rock Bottom

January 5, 2005, 3 :00 a.m.

I must have been in such a sound sleep that I did not hear Rich get out of bed. I was abruptly awakened by the sound of two loud bangs. Glancing at the empty left side of the bed, my heart began to pound as I realized, with an instantly sick feeling in my stomach, that Rich must have fallen down the stairs. I flew out of the bedroom to the hallway, where I could see him lying at the bottom of the stairs. I ran down the steps in a panic and found him lying sideways, with his head turned onto his left ear, which was touching the floor. He was breathing extremely hard with a snoring sound, but even through my frantic attempts to arouse him, he would not wake up. He remained in an unconscious state.

Try as I might, I could not wake him. When I lifted his head to try to get him to respond to me, he moaned a little. It seemed he was trying to open his eyes, but only his right eye opened slightly for a brief second before closing again. I put a cold rag on his face, and when I turned his head, I noticed a puddle of blood on the floor coming out of his left nostril and ear. It was the most horrifying moment of my entire life!

As I think back now, I remember how I had worried so many times, imagining Rich falling in his drugged state. Images of horrible moments like this one I was experiencing had been fleeting thoughts in my mind up until this time, but I never imagined it would truly happen to us.

You never really take time to think ahead about how you would react or what you would do in a situation like this one. There's no real planning for a traumatic brain injury circumstance, and your mind panics when you are thrown into the situation.

The first thing I did when I saw the blood was to grab the phone and dial 911. The 911 operator immediately dispatched an ambulance and a police officer. I could not think clearly in my panicked state, and instead, I could only manage to go through the motions as the 911 operator asked questions while directing me step by step so methodically.

My heart was breaking for my husband as he lay there on the floor, and all I could do was cry and sway back and forth until the police officer arrived. He began asking a lot of questions - so many that I remember thinking he may have suspected there was some foul play. How in the world could he possibly think I had something to do with Rich’s fall? My devastated mind could not even wrap its head around such a thought for long. At that moment, I remember feeling angry, thinking these questions were a waste of time while my husband was lying there needing prompt medical attention. Just then the ambulance arrived, and the EMTs rushed in to work on Rich.

As I watched the EMTs move Rich to a stretcher and secure his neck, I had never been so frightened in my entire life. They were quick to move him to the ambulance, and the police officer asked me to meet them at the hospital. He told me they were taking him to a hospital that had a trauma unit. I had never been there before and was shocked not to be able to ride in the ambulance along with Rich. I remember feeling unsure about whether I would be able to drive myself to the hospital. There was no time to think, however, so I grabbed my keys and purse, ran to the car as quickly as I could, and hoped to keep up and follow behind the police car.

I’m not sure how I made it safely to the hospital because the only memory I have of the trip is a phone call to my brother-in-law, who said he would meet me there as soon as he could.

When I arrived at the emergency room, the hospital personnel did not let me go back to the examination room to be with Rich, which made me extremely upset and distraught. I pleaded with the woman behind the glass at the reception desk to let me in so I could be by his side, fearful he might call for me and I wouldn’t be there for him, or, God forbid, he might die without me there. Regardless of my extensive pleading, she kept explaining that there were too many people working on him right now and that they could not allow me in. I desperately tried to find a way around to get through the back hallways. All the doors seemed to be locked, and I could not find a way to get in. I remember crying so hard, feeling helpless, and wondering if Rich was calling for me. I waited for what seemed to be an eternity. Being so all alone and frantic in my desperation, I began to talk to God in a way I had never done before. I had always prayed memorized prayers to God before bedtime, prayers I had learned when I was young, but I had never really spoken to Him or poured my heart out to Him the way I did in that waiting room.

Rich’s brother arrived, and through my tears, I explained everything to him. A short time afterward, the nurse called us in to be with Rich. The first sight of him was such a heartbreaking moment – seeing him in his unconscious state with tubes connected to him everywhere. I was not the least bit prepared for such a sight, let alone what I was about to hear. A trauma doctor entered the room and said, Your husband has a serious head injury, and we have paged a neurosurgeon. He is on his way to the hospital and will be in to speak with you shortly. The tears just flowed uncontrollably as I silently wondered if I would ever speak to my husband, hear his voice, see his smile and his beautiful blue eyes, hold his hand, or lay my head on his chest to hear his heart beating ever again. As I waited to hear from the doctor, once again I was filled with a heavy and hopeless feeling. A feeling of desperation, so desperate that my only option was to turn to God and pray – pray unceasingly, pray HARD, pray like I have never prayed before in my entire life!

Chapter Two

In the Beginning – Alcohol Addiction

Fade back to April , 1982.

Rich and I were married in April of 1982. I couldn’t have been happier to be married to my first and only love and to start a new life with my husband. We had been raised in two vastly different environments, and although Rich had been exposed during his early childhood and teenage years to family members who struggled with addiction, I did not have any similar experiences. I was born and raised in an Italian family with many strict Italian customs and traditions. My parents were both 100% Italian, and their parents’ families had traveled from Italy to make their homes here in the United States. My parents had two children, my older brother and me. They sent us to a Catholic elementary school, and then we transferred to a public high school.

Rich’s parents were German and Irish. I don’t know much about Rich’s grandparents, but I do know that his mother had a tough childhood, going to work in her mother’s name when she was not even of age to work and handing over her paycheck each week to a mother who struggled with alcohol addiction throughout much of her life. Rich’s mother met his father at a fairly young age, and they were married. I also know very little of Rich’s father’s background, but I do know his parents lived in northern Pennsylvania. We have been told that Rich’s father was a hard-working man who was an inventor of sorts and could fix just about anything. He and Rich’s mother had four boys, ranging in age from one to fourteen at the time their father was tragically electrocuted.

Rich, the youngest of the siblings, was only a-year old at the time his father was killed in 1955. His father’s death left his mother, a young widow, to care for four boys on her own. Life was tough for her financially as a young, single