Maybe I don’t know what it’s like to be physically dependent on drugs. Yes, that you are right. I’ve never been physically addicted to anything myself. But losing my mother to addiction and having a child with someone who was tormented by the same disease has given me some insight that I pray nobody else would ever have to learn. So let me tell you what I do know.
I know what it’s like to watch the strongest woman I know turn into a someone I didn’t even like. I know what it’s like to watch drug dealers come in and out of my house all hours of the night. I know what it’s like to be embarrassed because my mom was drooling on herself in front of my friends. I know what it’s like to not have a summer because at 13 I was too busy working to save money to buy school uniforms for myself and my siblings. I know what it’s like to have to take my mother’s limp body from falling inside of the toilet and lay her on the bathroom floor and sit there with her all night. Praying to God that she will wake up in the morning. I know what it’s like to be teased at school because I was dirty. What people didn’t know was we had no water sometimes. We used the bathroom in a 5-gallon bucket so we could throw it outside. I couldn’t brush my teeth, wash my hair, or take a bath. Explain that to other 3rd graders.
I know what it’s like to be physically and sexually abused and go to my mother to have it dismissed. Because she was so overwhelmed with numbing her own pain, she didn’t see how tortured I was inside. I know what it’s like to have to deal with that on my own, as a child. I know what it’s like to hurt so bad and not feel like there is a way out. I know what it’s like to romanticize the idea of taking my own life. I know what it’s like not to want to feel anymore. I know what it’s like to take care of my baby sisters. My mom was not in a place to do that sometimes. So guess who did? Me. I know what it’s like to stay up all night with a screaming baby, then wake myself up at 6 am, walk to the bus stop and go to school. Junior High, huh? That was the fun days. Let me tell you. I know what it’s like to be checked out of school because my mom needed someone with clean urine for her drug tests. Guess who that was? That was me. I learned the ropes early on. I know what it’s like to have to put furniture in front of our front door because my parents weren’t home and there were drug addicts and known pedophiles coming to the door all hours of the night for pills. So I would stay up at night and block the door. In my mind I was protecting my baby sisters. Do you know what that’s like? I hope not.
I know what it’s like to graduate with a class that I didn’t even know. Because my junior year my mother and her husband beat me to the point of being black and blue. I didn’t like this lifestyle, and I had finally decided to let them know just that. It didn’t end well. I know what it’s like to cry to the district attorney to please not put my mother in jail. This isn’t her, it’s the drugs. She would have never done this if she were sober. There was a lot she would have never done if she were sober. I had to switch schools my last year because of this. It hurt. It was depressing. But I finished school. I know what it’s like to feel that feeling of relief because I had finally turned 18 and can make my own decisions.
Guess what? I decided to join the military. I scored so high on their test I had the option of ANY job in the service. I finally did it, I was going to leave. After being sworn in and my leave date determined guess what? I had to go to my recruiter and beg him to get me out of it because my mom was in jail and my sisters would go to the state if they had no family to take them. Thankfully it didn’t play out that way, but there went my ticket away from here.
I know what it’s like to unknowingly seek out the same type of codependent and dysfunctional relationship with the first man I was attracted to. I know what it’s like to have a baby with him after only knowing him a few weeks. I wanted an out so bad; I took it with anyone. I know what it’s like to have a baby born with birth defects and very sickly. I truly believe it was because of the massive amount of stress from trying to fix everyone else and neglecting myself. I know what it’s like to watch the father of my child also turn down the same path I watched my mother take. I know what it’s like to scream at my own mother for giving my husband pills during the birth of our son. I know what it’s like to have everyone kicked out of the hospital because they were all out of their minds so I rather do my first birth on my own.
And the most heart wrenching thing I know? I know what it’s like to watch my mother on life support. I know what it’s like to wipe the overflow of stomach acid from her mouth while she was intubated. I know what it’s like to have to crawl through wires and IV poles to hug her one last time. I know what it’s like to smell that smell of death and not being able to wipe it from my memory. I know what it’s like to have a few minutes alone with her before she is taken for organ donation and using that time to scream and cuss at both her and God. To hit my knees in just pure agony because I felt like I tried so hard to save her and it still wasn’t good enough. I know what it’s like to get staring looks from the ICU staff when I walked out and telling them all to kiss my ass and mind their business when they asked if I was ok. I know what it’s like to arm myself with pure rage and anger to not have to feel pain. If I could inflict it on someone else, then I didn’t have to feel it. I know what it’s like to hold a crying child and tell him that his daddy loves him but this disease has hijacked him. And for now the best thing is that he continues to stay away and work on himself. I know what it’s like to watch my 11-year-old internalize this disease and make it his problem to fix. His exact words-“maybe I have enough money in my savings account to get him help. Maybe if he just sees me, it’ll make him want to get help.” In that exact moment, I saw myself. Wanting to fix and help everyone. In an unhealthy way though, it was at my own expense.
But now, 11 years after my mother’s death, I know what it’s like to have peace. I know what it’s like to understand the true meaning of “everything happens for a reason”. I know what it’s like to have all this pain and want to turn it into something greater. I know what it’s like to look a mother, daughter, father, son, or child right in the face and say “I know what you are going through”. I know what it’s like to be plagued by addiction. Maybe it wasn’t mine physically, but it absolutely was mine mentally and emotionally. So after reading this please explain to me how I don’t know what it’s like.
I didn’t say all this for a pity party. I don’t want an “I’m sorry for your loss” or “Sorry you went through this”. I want this story shared. I want a message of hope that even if you are dealing with the same type of situation right now that you can look at this and see that it will get better. I want to see people reach out and speak up if they see this type of thing going on around them. You might just save a life. Oh well, if somebody gets mad. If they’re mad, then they are alive and there is still a chance. If you are a child and are in this situation right now, please talk to somebody. Anybody who will listen. Protect yourself. If the system failed you, like it did for me then know that you won’t be a kid forever. Get your education. Get to know God and know that there are so many more people out there just like you. Don’t let someone else’s vice consume you. You are beautiful and you are loved. This too shall pass. Don’t let this make you bitter. Take your pain and turn it into a purpose.
