Growing Up Around Addiction

If I keep waiting for the perfect words I will never start this entry. It’s been weeks since my last post about my moms anniversary. I knew the next one would be hard and I decided to do a little research first. I attempted to hire a private investigator to pull actual records to help me with my timelines but this area is extremely difficult so I did not have much luck. I will have to go off my memory and bits and pieces my step father helped me gather. 

I wish I could say I had a normal childhood and upbringing but what I lived was anything but. I listen to a lot of podcasts and they have guests on that have lived through traumatic experiences but it’s usually just one. My entire life has been made up of traumatic experiences. The things I’m going to write about are going to be disturbing but it’s the truth. 

I am not sure when I knew my mom and her siblings were addicts. I feel like it’s something I’ve always know about. My mom moved away from her problems but like they say it always follows you. My father used her addition against her and would push her to relapse. What kind of person does that? She struggled with drinking and drugs, she was in a program which required you to be clean. I grew up going with her to a clinic. I pass by where it was almost daily but the building has been torn down. She went from going daily to only one day a week since she had good behavior. Waiting with her in the room as they called her in, sitting with the counselors as she had therapy. Addiction wasn’t talked about then like it is now. I remember going with her from the age of 6? I started to hate that place as I got older as they shared an office with an abortion clinic and I’d see people outside protesting. My mom was friendly and always giving so she met many people in that place, more bad than good. 

I do not want to get into her siblings to much so I will limit what I go into detail about. I remember when I was in middle school my uncle had gotten arrested in my area. He had currently been living in NYC and some reason him and a group of friends made it down to PA where we were. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time they say. He was driving a car and his “friends” had robbed a store. He was labeled the getaway driver. They got caught, and he went to jail. He ended up being released and staying with us. My mom was not happy about it and I heard her arguing with him about being in the home with me. The one night him and I walked to the 7-11 and talked. I had to have been only 10? Years old. I’ll remember that walk for the rest of my life. The next day I woke up to my mom screaming. I was rushed out of the house to our neighbors. They were going to be taking me camping with them for the weekend. It turned out my uncle overdosed in our living room. My mom woke up to him sitting up dead. They said his heart couldn’t handle it. Which happens to addicts that get clean then attempt to take the same amount they were once used to. She tried to get me away from the house as fast as possible but I knew what had happened. 

My mom always wanted to protect me but I always found out what was going on. She knew what was wrong and right but struggled with life herself. She was very hard on me and didn’t sugar coat the world. It was always one thing after another and I could see it so clearly now but back then I was just a child living with my single mom that had a lot of secrets. I didn’t know anything else but the chaos around me.

My mom would go through spurts when she was doing great and then all of a sudden she would hit a rough patch. I remember having to call all the local bars to try and find her. This was before cellphones became so popular. I would open up the yellow phone book and have a list of ones I would call. Me being an experienced bartender now can’t imagine picking up a phone to a child asking if there mother was at the bar. Those were not her best times… 

I asked my step dad for details for what I wanted to bring up next. My moms arrest and when she went to jail. His response was, when she crashed the car and got caught for throwing a gun she thought was stolen? No I was not referring to that time but I wanted to know more. I actually remembered more than he did. What I was referring to was when she gave her friend from the program a ride home. He had asked her to bring his girlfriend with and to drop them off. Well this woman had heroin on her, this woman thought it was a great idea to try shooting up in the back seat and she almost overdosed. My mom pulled over to help her and the cops showed up. They did not believe the story with her record and she was charged. 

I spent the next 3-6 months with my mom in work release and in jail. I stayed with a friend of hers for a little while and they drove me to school. Then my grandmother came up and stayed with me at our apartment. I was so ashamed because at that time I was in 7th grade. When most kids were just having sleep overs and discussing whatever normal kids did. I was hiding secrets of what my normal looked like. I knew about addiction, drugs and why my mom had hep c. I knew way to much for my age. 

That year I met my best friend, she needed me as much as I needed her. I asked her to play a computer math game and that was it. She is still my best friend and we are raising our children together. They are only 6 months apart and being able to share motherhood with your bestfriend is the greatest gift. She was the first person I ever told the truth to. She never treated me differently and she was always there for me. She became very close with my mom over the years. My mom was always the cool mom that my friends could talk to. She wanted me to trust her so if I ever was in trouble I could goto her. I remember when my friend ran away from home, she went to my house. My mom took care of her and just talked with her. She wanted to keep her safe and get her to realize she should go home on her own. When my mom passed away, she was living in another state. She hopped on a flight and was by my side. 

I know some may think what kind of mother allows that to be around her child. My mom was a great mom, I wouldn’t be here today if I didn’t have her when I did. She did her best at protecting me. She taught me street smarts and common sense. She made sure I knew how to take care of myself even when she struggled herself. My step dad told me they both always agreed on one thing and that one thing was how to raise me. They both didn’t think they would make it past me turning 21. She was right, she only made it until the week I turned 19. 

I feel like I rambled a lot with this post and I apologize. A lot of what I am going to be writing about is heavy so I’m going to stop here. 

What I want to say is that it doesn’t matter where you come from. I came from a very hard life. Statistics would say I should have become an addict and never would have made it as far as I did. It’s not what you go through that defines you in my eyes, it’s how you respond to those moments and what you learn from them. I didn’t allow my background to hold me back from being the best person I could be…