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[ Opinion ]

A Mother’s Role: A Nurturer, A Giver, An Enabler (?)

It’s late morning and I have managed to get dressed. I haven’t had days like this often in the last year but today was a a harsh reminder that I don’t have a cold or the flu..I have addiction. Two of my family members, whom I have loved beyond life, have this mutual friend that has ripped our family to shreds and no matter the roar of my cry or the sharpness of my sword, this battle goes on. No Amoxicillin or Kleenex will cure this bug and I hate having to accept it’s a parasite.

My beautiful and intelligent daughter didn’t come home last night. She graduates next week from high school, which cares more about their graduate percentage rather than accountability and integrity. If she wasn’t the daughter of parents who are personal friends with the Administration, I’m not sure if she would be getting a diploma. How can you graduate with three Fs, two Ds and two Cs?? 

I think my friends,despite my pleas to dole out the detention and natural consequences  of skipping school 3 out of 5 days a week, felt sorry for me and couldn’t bear to expel my darling little manipulator. I told you, she is intelligent.

A year ago I wouldn’t have seemed this abrasive, but I’m angry. I’m so pissed off that I got not an ounce of sleep last night. I’m missing work because I am so tired, but more importantly, I’m on this emotional roller coaster and I just want off.

I want to sit here and say that I’m steering this train but I can’t in all honesty. I divorced her alcoholic father shortly after marriage because of the fact I put a condition on the wedding: Go to treatment or no wedding. DUH. I know. Hindsight, 20/20…trust me. Obviously, you can guess the outcome. Facing being a single Mom with two VERY small children, life was great for a long time. It was the span where my ex husband was playing drunk playboy and the only moments he wanted to spend time with the girls is when someone reminded him he was a father-and that wasnt me, because frankly, the single life suited him. Hell, it suited all of us. Life was busy, schedules were full, girls were happy until it came back. We were the 3 Muskateers heading into the storm.

He played games with trips,child support, empty promises etc.I picked up the pieces. I still am picking up the pieces. I lost the man I was in love with and now am watching my daughter, who is just as wonderful as he was, carry on with the same old “I don’t give a fuck  if I hurt you” addicts motto. Let me tell you, the knife is just as sharp as it was 16 years ago when I used it the first time. I sat for the last two years, getting her into rehab and therapy and held her hand when she was in the e.r twice for pill overdoses. I went to therapy until I thought I was all talked out. I thought “hey. I will Let Go and Let God”..well…what I realized after last night is..I do want to let go and am very ready,but the anger of her not caring about not coming home on a school night after telling me she was on her way at 9 p.m. was my reminder…this ain’t over. I’m angry. I am angry that she gets to laugh and smile and get high or drunk yet, I don’t have anything to make me smile or laugh or forget that demon in the corner. I see him and stare him down incessantly as he smirks in victory. Always lurking, always waiting.

When she fell, I wanted to be a great role model and pick her up. To date the only title I feel like I’ve earned is “her bitch. Unfortunately, the real love your addicts have for you is buried miles down and if they will ever reach them, who knows. I quit my bad wine habits (a glass here, two there) to “fight the fight” with her. After all, she wouldn’t accept hypocrisy from me..

So (sigh)…here I sit. Tonight I will return to Al anon which I quit awhile back after it too, was reeking of crazy manipulation at a specific site. I realize I still have alot of work to do. Hell..I don’t even know if my daughter is alive. I do know that I told God that she is His. This will play out the way that it is intended and that, I have accepted awhile back. That was a hard pill to swallow. Pardon the pun. I was asked last week who of anyone in my life is my support system? My answer…ummm…well….I don’t tell my friends a ton because they can’t relate (or they can and simply pretend they are clueless to what addiction even is) and my family is too consumed with their perfect lives to truly care. Talking about “my addicted family” is a fun sucker afterall, as well as inconvenient.

Huh. Good question to which I have not a single answer. I walked away in response and cried in private, like usual. Anger. Resentment. I didn’t get any sleep because I  am angry others don’t put the same value on me that I do and THAT is what makes me unravel these days. Invisible and unimportant is what I have become and thats not ok with me. I am a nurturer, a giver and at one time an enabler. Who is nurturing me? I can only point the finger back at myself. Noone else.

That is a sign I’m in there somewhere, right?

Amidst all of my angst,  I want to express to all of you who have contributed your personal narratives how grateful I am. I am grateful because in the hours that I was wide awake and seething, I was reminded that I am not alone in this and for some, the loved ones don’t make it for even another round of arguing about how sorry you’re not. And for that, I am truly sorry. But you see, you’re helping me in my despair and I recognize that we all share very common feelings. I will say to you what you have said to me. Stay the course. It may not be smooth seas but together, we have sturdy sails and that will keep us steady in this storm. Lets all keep each other safe.

Bless you all. ♡♡