Life or Meth

Addicts Family Suffer Most

Drug addicts always have an excuse and a reason and someone to blame. Yes they are suffering but, their family suffers the most. Their family doesn’t have that drug to numb the pain and hide reality. One does not realize when they are so dependant upon a drug the emotional and mental stress they lay upon all those who care about them. They do not care to see their pain. All they are consumed with is how they feel and how the world has done them wrong!

When I was younger I couldn’t wait to grow up so I could get out of the house of hell. I cried myself to sleep more nights than I can remember.  The memories are still here as if it was yesterday. The pain in my heart. The need of someone to love me and support me. Sitting in my bedroom as a young teenager staring out the window praying to God. Praying he would help. Begging him to help. Asking him why this demon had taken over my mother. I cried and I wrote and I wondered what I had done to deserve the life I had been given. I at times even wanted to die. I wanted the pain to stop. I wanted my heart to stop hurting. But, no matter how bad things got it never seemed to get better. The thoughts of killing myself were very frequent until I would see my baby brother and I would imagine him there all alone. He was the only thing that gave me a positive reason to exist. When things got real bad and I had cried until I had no more tears to cry I would run away. I would run to my boyfriends house, who now is my husband.  I depended on him to make me feel wanted. To make me forget what I was going to have to return to. I would get a taste of life where I wasn’t constantly being called names and mentally abused. As I look back now I believed in some part of me that it was my fault. That I caused the life I was given. I was made to believe that. She had to blame someone to justify her actions. Blaming me and manipulating me into actually believing I didn’t deserve any better must have cleared her conscious. Blaming everyone else for her addiction to meth was the easiest way for her not to have to face her own demons. To me the most selfish thing a mother, a role model, the one person  who is supposed to be your shield from all the evil and bad things in the world and the one person that no matter how bad things get will always be by your side to make you feel better, but in my world my mother was the devil and I lived in the house of hell. I couldn’t wait to grow up and move away. I felt so alone and lost. When I should have been thinking about my future and what I was going to do with my life I was busy worrying if my mom would get home so I didn’t have to hide in a locked bathroom sitting on the floor crying be cause I was scared of my step father and him being inappropriate because he was drunk. I can still remeber those nights like no time has passed. I can remeber the hate I felt towards my mom and the pain I felt wondering why she didn’t care. Why she left me to go hang out with drug addicts. As I would sit in the dark bathroom with my back against the locked door crying all I could think about is why my mom hated me so much and how I could make her love and care about me the way I did her. I would pray to God an ask him to please help her. I would beg he take the demon out of her. At times I would get angry at God. I didn’t understand why He wanted me to feel so much pain and be so alone. Those nights my prayers were more of demands. As I grew stronger that pain left. I just learned how to hide it even better.  That was one thing that was engraved in our heads when we were young that our business stayed our business. What happened at home we didn’t go cry to others about to get sympathy. I was made to believe I was only being a cry baby and a “pussy”. I had a journal I titled Life in the House of Hell. When I was upset that’s where I turned. 

I didn’t let anyone know how miserable I was and how sad I was. I was embarrassed. I knew in the back of my heart things weren’t right. I saw how my friends mothers treated them and I envied them. My friends were one of my escapes and one places I felt as though I fit in and could be myself and not have to worry about walking on eggshells so hiding my real life from them seemed best. I didn’t want to be treated different or judged. And most of all I didn’t want them to judge my mother. I was convinced that wasn’t my mother and she was possessed by a demon, and I kept telling myself that she was strong she was going to break free and she was going to take all of my pain away. That was my hope and dream. I would go to bed at night praying that when I woke up the next morning everything was going to be normal again. The way it was when I was younger and everyone was happy.

Years went by and things got worse. My mom wasn’t home much. Her happiness was that next hit on the pipe. It was like it took every bit of humanity out of her. She was truly a living demon who scared the hell out of me more than she made me feel safe. She wasn’t happy when she was home. When she came home it was when she was coming down and needed sleep. She usually slept in the living room on the couch with her purse close by. And in her purse is where her happiness awaited and waking her before she was ready was like a bomb exploding. Her first assumption is someone snooping through her purse to take her dope. I can remeber how much I feared her when this happened.  She would wake up and it’s like I could see the devil in her eyes. She was so angry and unhappy and only worried about one thing. Her meth. Her happiness. Her escape from reality. The minute she would sit up she would be screaming from the top of her lungs and calling whoever was near every name in the book, but it usually started with snoop dog. Everyone to her was a snoop dog and everyone was always assuming things about her when they didn’t actually know.  I knew then as well as I know now. Meth won. 

I’m now 35 and a mother of 4 and still have that hope my mom is going to come back. I still to this day never lost hope. She was always quick to apologize when she did wrong or got in trouble. Everytime she was locked up in jail it hurt me so much, but knowing she was safe and out of harms way kept me sane. Being in jail is actually the times I could talk to her. And she was actually human. I couldn’t wait for her to get home because I was  convinced that this was it!! My mom is back. She took control and meth isn’t going to get a hold of her again. She is too strong for that. Needless to say after 13 years the pattern has only repeat itself. She missed some of the most important things in my life and my brothers.  Things that we can’t get back. Things that only happen once in a lifetime. And why? Because of meth.

After all we have been through I have forgiven her because I keep thinking she has changed. I can’t get back all the years she has already dedicated to her meth addiction. So of course after the same pain and the same misery I couldn’t wait to get away from it just keeps haunting me. She still constantly puts me down and says things I wouldn’t say to someone I hated and definitely not to my children.  Her and her father, my Grandpa, have made me feel worse than anyone has ever made me feel my whole life.

I still pray and wonder why she is the way she is but, I don’t have the answer. My Grandpa used to be my Sunshine. He was my protector and one I looked up to. He always knew what to say to make me feel better. But, these last few years as his dementia clearly is taking more and more of him, along with aging and other health issues and being alone and his aggrevation of not being able to do all the things he has done for so many years, he gets mean. A man who would never let me hear him cuss now has no problems cussing me out and making me feel completley worthless. 

I  am so naive and vulnerable when my grandpa tears me down. I get that hope I had as a kid that my mom will be there to make me feel better. But, guess what everytime she tears me down even more then I already am. She makes the childhood pain flashback in my head. She calls me weak and a cry baby. I know it’s all just words and I shake it off, but the fact that I let her make me this miserable let and hurt this bad for this many years without giving up while, the whole time she accused me of not forgetting or forgiving her for the past. Which I had and I did over and over, but she never to this day has left the past in the past so it’s always here to haunt me and make me remeber. 

I have told her over and over I was done and I didn’t want her in my life. That too always mad me upset. I felt like I wasn’t giving her the chance I should when in reality I gave her more than I ever should at the expense of my own happiness and sanity.  But, today I hope is the end. I hope I am strong enough to not look back and to not care how she feels because the way I feel is a joke to her. I am a baby and “pussy” and God only knows I havs tried and I would do anything to have a mother. So I give up. I can’t take another day. I want to run away like I did as a kid and escape this hell. I always put my feelings to the back burner to try and make sure the ones I love don’t hurt. I try to be there and I try to be caring and show feelings of love to her but, it only leaves me miserable and upset and heartbroken. 

My happiness is important.  I am the one who allows myself to be treated as if I am not worthy of better and I am the only one that can change my happiness if others don’t have any respect for how I feel. I am not capable of being the BEST me I can be when I’m always upset and stressed. I snap at my kids and I’m on edge when I shouldn’t be because others don’t realize how much they have broke me down. When the ones breaking me down in return tell me I’m just weak and a cry baby. That hurts but, I allow it. So that is what makes me weak. I have been strong I have pretended and I have gave chances and I have wanted nothing but, a loving family. I have been too vulnerable and and still have been made to try and believe maybe it is me. But, it’s not. I am broke down and weak because of their weaknesses. I know I am strong and there is not many people who would have been able to endure the pain and suffering I have for as long as I have.

 What I thought was me not being selfish and me caring about my family was actually me being selfish of my own needs in hopes of change and in hopes of a normal family. While I’m hoping they just keep kicking me while I’m down. Acting as though I am just weak for not be able to handle it. No I’m weak for allowing it.  I’m weak for letting them use me to make themselves feel better. I’m just a door mat that has gotten walked over and over. What hasn’t killed me has only made me stronger. I have had to live to learn how addiction can almost be worse than death. I know my mom is alive, but who is has become is not the mother I remeber. She is a stranger that feeds and prays on others weaknesses and faults to make herself feel better. To her pointing out every mistake I make or all the bad things in me she is hiding the demon inside herself. Her manipulation and vindictivness is like a super power. She’s good at it and several are baited and hooked by her “other personality”. She knows how to get them a biting and bring them on in. And I don’t tell anyone any different. I don’t need anyone’s acceptance to feel self worth or to make me feel better. Being fake and putting on a show while putting others down to me is pathetic enough and I have secondhand embarrassment for her for being this way. So I allow her to eat it up while she can and I don’t care if I’m the “bad guy”. I don’t care what people think when what they are thinking is not based on facts and real life. It’s based on insecurity and lack or confidence which I have taught myself to have both after she stripped me from both. I feel that alone makes me strong and I pity her if in her head she really thinks things are that way. It’s sad and I don’t want anyone hurting the way I have hurt. I want to be different than the way she taught me to be. I don’t want to be that mean girls anymore.  The one who also brought herself up when bringing others down. Who got a big head and felt mighty when I made someone else hurt and feel less than. I was screaming for attention and self acceptance when I was younger. 

I can say the me today looks back at the high school me and says what a bitch the old me was. I had no care or worry in the world and not one person was going to tell me what to do or when to do it. I was disrespectful to all authority, now looking back I am embarrassed and ashamed. But, to me rules were meant to be broken and I was good at breaking them. I was so good at being bad and usually getting away with it and never faced many consequences for my actions. The rush being bad gave me and a feeling of empowerment, almosr like I was untouchable, those feelings kept my others away,  temporarily anyway. 

Now I see that was me screaming for someone to notice me, someone to lead me down the right path & carry me when I was too weak and couldn’t carry myself. I put on a show that I was a Bad Girl and all tough. But, inside I was screaming for attention, to be noticed and to just be loved. I was begging for guidance and support. But, I guess to those who find happiness in hurting others I guess that does seem weak. But, today I stopped caring what someone so heartless thinks and started caring what I think. 
My weakness was allowing you to stay in my life and expect my love and acceptance which I gave and more but, was blamed for not sticking up for and turning against. When in reality I never had a chance. The problem wasn’t with me and the lack of love I showed you the problem was the lack of love and confidence you have in yourself. That doesn’t make you a bad person and I’m not saying I’m better than you. I’m saying you really have some issues that you should get help with. Not for me or anyone else but, for yourself. Your own opinion and thoughts of yourself and issues you have never dealt with or things you are ashamed with about yourself and things you haven’t forgiven yourself or someone else for and that is holding you back and not allowing you to believe that others could have forgave you or that others care about you. So take this as I mean it from the bottom of my heart or let the demon think some crazy thoughts and everyone is just out to get you. And if you are as strong minded and smart as you like to believe you are than you would know that what I am about to say is what I mean and what I mean is what I say. I feel sorry for you that you haven’t allowed yourself to grow up and to see life from a different perspective. 

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