Yes, I’m a mother. Of three to be exact. I started smoking meth very young and the first time I tried it, I was hooked. Some people say that’s impossible, but for me, that was my drug of choice. I didn’t wanna live one day without being high and if I couldn’t get meth, I got drunk instead. Somehow, through my four years or so of active addiction. I managed to take care of my children with the help of my amazing father, who only wanted me to get better.
I was steady on dope and using every single day when I found out I was pregnant with my second child. I immediately quit and thought that was the end. But when she was three months old, I relapsed. And I dragged myself into the dope world once again, but this time it would be worse then it ever was before. I found myself with guns to my head, stealing lying, cheating, not being faithful to the one man I truly love more then life itself. I got into an extremely abusive relationship with a extremely violent drug dealer, who let me OD in his living room. He did nothing for me.
Finally, I woke up one day and I didn’t wanna be high anymore. I realized how much I missed sleeping, eating, feeling. I missed being a great mom. So I got sober. By myself. I didn’t have to have a judge tell me to, or be arrested, or have my kids taken. I opened my own eyes. And I got clean. Two months later, I found out I was pregnant with my third kid—who just so happened to be an amazing baby boy. I was so proud that I was sober. I was excited to become a mom again and maybe have a chance at recovering as a mother of three.
I have bad days. I have days when I wake up and know I should take my ass to an NA meeting. I have days where certain smells will trigger something in my brain that reminds me of my dope days, and the urge to use will be almost intoxicating.
There are certain places I can never even drive past, let alone visit again. I have people I used to love so much I can no longer speak to. And most of all, I am weak. I am so weak. If I was to put myself in a situation where I was in the same room as a dope pipe being past around, I’d hit that motherfucker. And I know I would. I’ll admit it to the world. And that, right there, is why I stay the fuck away from situations like that.
Recovery is hard. It’s the hardest thing I have ever done in my life and I’ve been raising three kids pretty much alone. Some days its great and some days I literally wanna die. But it is so worth it. I have accomplished things I never even knew I was capable of. I’m going to school to become a substance abuse counselor. I have a job, car, and a house. I am myself. It is possible. It feels so impossible some days, but I am living, breathing, thriving proof that it is possible. I believe in second, third, fourth chances—as many chances as you can get, until you get clean. I believe in that. I just wanted to maybe be an inspiration for some lost soul somewhere… Maybe.