Monday, December 27, 2010

About the Addict and the Daughter

My mother has been an addict for longer than I have been alive, she grew up in a world where drugs and alcohol were a part of everyday life.  Some would say she never stood a chance, I would say she didn't fight hard enough.  However, all that doesn't really matter because she fell into the drugs and the alcohol. 

She became an addict and whatever the reasons are lost upon me and most likely to her also.  It was just a way of life for her and even as years went on she couldn't find a reason or a life that didn't involve them. 

At 27 she had her first child, a boy, my brother, and she was on her second marriage.  The first marriage ending when her and her husband spent some time in prison.  Having a child didn't slow down her ways much and then her husband died only a year after their son was born, this throwing her into the drugs and alcohol more, just so she could find an end to the pain.  When she was 29, two years and one day after her son was born, she gave birth to me.  My father and her had a falling out a month before I was born.  My mother was doing cocaine while she was pregnant with me and things didn't workout.  When he came to the hospital some stuff went down (I am not sure which is the real story) one says one thing and the other says another. 

However, it ended with him not having anything to do with me.  He was an alcoholic and most likely a drug user too. 

There was an accident a year later that left my brother mentally challenged and with a few physical disadvantages also.  My mother couldn't deal, she ran away with me in tow, but eventually came back when my brother pulled through. Having kids did not change my mother, having a special needs child didn't change her, all we did is put a damper on her party life.  She left us with her mother as much as possible and she snuck around as much as she could.  I am sure having us was only negative things for her. 

As we got older, she took a lot of her guilt, frustration, and other things out on us, me more than anything. I was blamed for stuff that I now know is stupid, but then I truly believed it was my fault.  Every action she had, caused me pain in some way.  Every time she drove and drank it ate away at me with worry.  Every time she didn't get her fix and she would hit me for reasons I didn't know, I felt like I was to blame.  I blamed myself for everything as much as she blamed me.
She had a hard life, there is no doubt about that, but she didn't make our life easy that is for sure.

When all a person can think about is their next fix, having a job isn't really a part of life, they want.  So, in order to make extra money, she started dealing the drugs she was using, it didn't take long for this to catch up with her and when I was sixteen she was sent to prison.  At first she was withdrawing and everything was my fault.  It was my fault I, her sixteen year old daughter, couldn't get her out of jail, it was my fault she was in there, everything was my fault.

After some time in prison, she started to change, she started to realize her mistakes.  She started admitting them and after five years, she was finally in a place that she could realize I wasn't to blame.  She had no one to blame, but herself. 

She is now at this moment in a halfway house, until some time in February2011 and I am taking her phone calls, driving over a hour to get her on the weekends and all those emotions are coming back.

When she went to prison she was a addict, abuser, and user.  I was 16 living under her roof, and a submissive, naive child.  Now, she is on the road to recovery, 30 days sober on the outside, 5 years sober on the inside, and admitting her mistakes.  I am 22 year old woman, a mother of two little girls and a wife to an amazing husband.  My life is nothing like hers ever was and I have worked hard to be the complete opposite of her. I married someone that didn't know that world, someone I love more than anything, and we made our family.

Now, after 5 years, I have to find a way to introduce her into my family, my life, and hope like hell she doesn't relapse.  I am so scared, but I am hoping for the best.

This gives you some insight, I don't know how much more about the past that will come up in this blog, but that is enough for you for now. 
I just want a place to log my journey, so maybe I can read over it and learn from it. 
~ A recovering addicts daughter

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