April 20, 2017
Sometimes it’s easier to speak about pain in a riddle.
Feeling dizzy there she goes. Taking another spin through the revolving doors, as I fight to stay strong and not fall apart.
Rewind to those precious days a short time ago. Behind closely watched doors. Sitting side by side trying to piece the years together … it felt like mad science. As we huddled close looking back thru the rear view mirror with vision so hazy. Struggling to document her life story. Her eyes were bright, and her high was enthusiasm.
I struggle wanting to say her name out loud while straddling the desire to protect her anamonymity. She’s my daughter after all. But holding it all in tight inside my chest pushes me inward where depression lingers.
When did all the memories become so fragmented? It’s difficult trying to trace it all back. In my head I scream, I don’t want to be the mother of an addict anymore! I just want to be her mom. A safe place for her to lay her head. Back to a time before things changed the way she saw herself.
Time seems to stand still for the life of an addict. Years pass by slowly then suddenly with a fury time speeds up as they go to battle day in/out to feed the bottomless pit of their addictions.
Consequences breed confusion and uncertainty, and as the fog begins to lift and the damage becomes crystal for a sober mind. Looking out at the wreckage, one could feel lost once again.
Truth be told the heart wrenching dots of addiction can best be connected by the scars beneath the ink. And as addiction continues to cast its web tangling up misconceptions about life and purpose. Stealing time, taking lives, and breaking hearts. I will always wonder what more I could have done. Tears flow as I let that last sentence sit heavily uninterrupted. Pulling apart my heart at the seams.
Praying that she can break free from the cement blocks weighing her down before she succumbs to a life behind iron doors. Or worse, laid to rest.
With a hopeful heart, I resist the urge to raise the white flag. Instead I pray that she continues to explore and dare I say embrace her own personal path to recovery. Where anything is possible in a town called hope. Able to tackle anything that comes her way with a sober mind and a new lust for living.
Addiction has tried so many times to steal her air, like it stole my will to breathe. It changed me. Turning my world upside down, touching every part of who I am today. Yet here I am a better person because of it. I never saw that coming.
Looking back, there was likely a tipping point when your addiction and keeping my head above water reached an impasse. Although the lines have blurred tonight, I was certainly at risk of completely losing myself in the darkness that surrounded me like a warm blanket.. trying to smother me. Where the only light that came in was from the slide show in my mind of my little girl with joy in her heart and a beautiful smile. Replaying memories from a different time.
Holding my breath until daybreak, I would awake with new purpose. To start fighting for my own life. To learn how to love myself and learn how to truly live with my daughter’s addiction. Reminding me that I have always tried my best and that that has to be enough. To learn how to choose joy, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.
I’ve done so much work over time. Yet, as I look around today with a troubled heart, I can see that my circle is now oh so small. No one to call. It’s quiet here.
Letting go is not easy.
Forgiveness of our shortcomings built on impossible expectations is hard. But the not knowing is unfathomable. Not knowing if my daughter’s faith is strong enough to see her through the night without picking up. Facing her demons, no I can’t imagine. Sometimes the want/need to hold my daughter and keep her safe is too much.
So tonight I pray with all my might that she has the courage to stand tall and feel whatever she is supposed to feel and experience whatever she’s supposed to experience … without using.
Today I pray for love and light to shine brightly for my daughter. For angels to surround her and lift her up, up, up. So she can be free from the chains that bind her. Free to stand up. And to stand tall enough to see her own divine beauty and true worth.
And to all my mothers and families coping with addiction, I offer you my heart. I pray for you, reaching out to hold your heart and your hand. Reminding you. You are loved. You are not alone. Stay strong in knowing you will get through this. This too shall pass.
With love and hope.