There is a special place in hell for moms who drink.
And I am one of them.
This past year has been a journey for me – attempts to get sober, listening to recovery podcasts and audiobooks, reading reading reading on the subject of addiction.
What I have learned is how many of us addicts there are – that we are all struggling – and that we can all use a little help. My eyes have been opened to the reality of the addict – I no longer judge the teen who hides in his parents basement trying to escape the world by getting high. I feel empathy for the overworked 30something career woman who uses alcohol to ‘get through’ her days and nights. I feel for the former athlete whose sports injury left him addicted to painkillers.
But, I still can’t find a shred of empathy for the mother who drinks away memories of her kids growing up. I am one of those moms and I still judge other moms the harshest. I see them as selfish, uncaring and neglectful – and i have been all of those things.
In my attempt to ‘get better’ I need to get over this hatred – because, of course, it is all about me hating myself. I understand the nightmare of being an addict mom, and I need to forgive myself, and forgive all of those moms in the midst of the struggle. Until I do that, I can’t move forward.