Raised by Addicts

I’m going to try really hard not to just vent my heart out & throw up words all over my computer screen. I want to get this story out so other kids know that they’re not alone & that there’s so much more to life than their current situation.

I know that being neglected is hard & heartbreaking. I know the pain of watching someone you adore lose themselves to drugs. I also know that living in poverty is just miserable… In those moments I had no idea how bad it actually was. Not to mention all of the weird creepy people that you’re constantly being surrounded by.

I was infuriated with my mother for so long after growing up. I had this unforgiving mindset that I felt entitled to. I barely remember my biological father. So my mom was my WHOLE WORLD. I was so in love with her beauty & grace. She was always so soft & gentle. The way she moved or talked. The way she did her make up & put herself together for the day. The way she cleaned & cooked dinner every day with pride. I still miss her getting me ready for school. Doing my hair & dressing me like a princess every day. She always made me feel so confident & beautiful. Always reminding me how much she cared about me & loved me. I’m still grieving that version of her.

I’m not sure if many people that live through this have the memories of their parents before addiction took hold of their soul. But it's something that I realized saved me. I saw that extreme effect that drugs had on my mom. So much that I dont recognize her. The way she looks or acts or talks. I have no idea who that person or thing is. Now I won't touch hard drugs. Even having my own bad experience with addiction. I knew when to change & ask for help because I already knew what was at the end of the road that I was on. My mom was the one I called when I was at my rock bottom sitting in my car at Walmart coming down off cocaine with nowhere to go. She was the only one that would understand & not judge me.

Funny how life works like that. Everything happens for a reason, even if we don’t know what it is at the moment. God always makes things work in your favor when you have faith. I had to learn to surrender my pain & hatred before I was able to start healing. It wasn't until after my lesson with addiction that I understood my mothers addiction just a little bit better.

I’m not sure if anyone’s proud of being an addict, but I was absolutely disgusted with myself. I think I’m still healing from that bullshit. I can't believe I allowed myself to get that far gone. Do you ever learn to love yourself again? Or trust yourself? Or have any type of self confidence? All of these questions made me sympathize with my mom. I felt so bad for the way I handled things with her as a kid. I felt so ashamed of all the bad names I called her. I had no idea what she was actually going through.

I guess I’m trying to explain that I’ve forgiven my mom (for the most part) & even though I’m about to expose a lot of trauma that makes her look like a piece of shit, I still love her….

So I’m about three. I’m sure I only remember this because of how fucked up it was…. But I definitely remember & I’m sure it's affected me mentally for life. I remember that my mom & I have this cute little house & it's just us. No sisters yet, no dad, no family, just my mom & me, her little sidekick.

Apparently my mom has a boyfriend, this is the only memory I have of him, but apparently he was staying at our house for a couple days… Anyways, I remember walking home at night time with my mom. As we approach the house you can smell dog poop & pee…. Like bad…. My mom opens the door & I remember this weird creepy man sitting in the living room holding a beer. There's dog shit & piss EVERYWHERE.

I run to the bathroom because I have to pee so bad. As I’m peeing I hear my mom yelling at this man. I hear banging & more yelling…. I remember being scared. This stupid little bitch man barges into the bathroom saying that he “has to piss”. He picks me up off of the toilet & literally throws me into the hallway. My pants are still down, I hadn't wiped or anything. I start crying & mom comes running. She tells me to go to my room & goes into the bathroom screaming again. I go into my room & I’m just listening to them argue. Then I hear my mom shriek in pain.

I'm not sure what was going through my mind at that point. Can you imagine a toddler experiencing something like this? All I know is that after i heard my mom scream like that i went running to help her. When i get into the living room, I see my mom trying to attack this guy with the house phone. He then picks her up & body slams her on the ground like a fucking WWE wrestling match. He gets on top of her & starts WAILING on her face. I remember I picked up the phone from the ground & was trying to call someone. I remember hearing my mom scream at me to go to my room over & over again. Her blood is starting to splat everywhere. After this it's a little blurry.

Next I remember my mom running outside. I couldn't open the door to follow them so I ran to my room to look out the window. I see this man dragging my mom down the street….. After that I remember the ambulance showing up.

I'm sitting in the ambulance with my mom & I’m pretty sure I’m in shock. I remember just being so worried about my mom. The EMT lady was so sweet. She kept reassuring me that everything will be okay….. I still remember the smell… like hospital cleaning disinfectants or something….. Whatever it was, it was super strong.

My mom turned out fine. Broken nose & a fractured rib. A Lot of bruises… I always cry when I tell this story. I swear I never had a chance. My first memory is trauma. I want nothing more than to just hug everyone that's ever had to experience something like this… Now that I’m older I know that drugs were involved & I’m confused why anyone would ever allow their toddler in this type of environment around these types of people. Was it cool to throw house parties & do drugs around your children back in the day? Apparently my mom thought so…

My mom told me that she felt accepted by these types of people. She actually grew up in a christian home… honor roll, church every sunday type of childhood. However she never got along with her stepmother. My mom blames her stepmom for all of her insecurities. She always made my mom feel less then, ugly, fat etc. Like an evil stepmother in a disney movie.

My mom said that after she graduated & moved out is when she really found herself. She would get attention for dressing like a chola & being able to speak spanish even though she looked like a white girl. She loved attention. So much that she would do anything for it…. Even speed balls of meth & heroin while her 2 year old daughter is in the next room.

I wasn't sure where to start with all this. I figured my first trauma would be a good spot. I’ll try to keep everything in order. Writing this was actually pretty therapeutic.