I am the Mother of 4 beautiful daughters.   I often hear from people that I must be insane for having all girls, as if I had a choice in the matter.  I couldn’t be more happy to have had all daughters.  I often wondered what it would be like to have had a son, to walk down the Army men and Hot Wheel section of the store versus baby dolls and Barbie, but life granted me all that I needed in my children.   

My eldest daughter is the sole reason I have created this blog, and I apologize up front for any grammatical errors or ramblings on.   I simply needed a place to purge and hopefully find others out there like me who can share their stories, hope and strength. 

My daughter will be 21 this year in June, and I can hardly believe it.   It feels like yesterday that she was born and everything was perfect.  I guess if I look back, I can honestly say that I missed so many of the signs that she was headed down a bad path.  I was one of “those” Mothers who had the evidence starting me straight in my face but couldn’t believe that my child would do such things.   I often blame my ugly divorce, bad parenting on my part and my overprotective nature for how she ended up, but I am at a point where I have to stop blaming and punishing myself. 

My daughter is an Addict and as hard as that is to type that out, it is still so hard to say out loud.   Drug of choice? Oxycontin. 

I remember her having bloodshot eyes in High School and believed her when she said that she was crying at school.  I would grab the tub of ice cream and would cuddle her on the couch asking her to tell me about her day.   I didn’t realize that she reason she gobbled the entire tub was due to her smoking pot with her friends and not a broken heart.   My daughter being the eldest became so much more than just my first born… I loved being with her and loved that she showed me without saying a word that she appreciated and loved me.  I struggled to keep food on the table and to get the bills paid after my divorce and although I never said a word to my children, she always seemed to know.   I loved that about her..she was so understanding when I had to say no to playing soccer, rollerskating parties, or designer clothing.  

In High School she became more rebellious but again, not to a degree that I thought was unbearable.  I was called many times to the office for fighting, cutting classes, and tardies.  I thought this was all normal highschool stuff.   I didn’t let her out much, always kept that leash short from fear of the “what if’s”.   I also took the tough love approach in order for her to Graduate.   I’ve heard many times from her now that she was glad I “kept her prisoner” her senior year or she never would have graduated.  Those statements are bitter sweet because I wonder now if I had given her more freedom, would she have gone as crazy as she did once she was “free”.      Hindsight.   

After highschool, my daughter left home a few times and it was always after an argument we would have.   The arguments usually consisted of me telling her that she had to be home at a decent hour, or that should was not allowed out on a week night, to which she would advise me that she was now 18, and an “adult” and could do as she pleased.   I would give the old, “if you don’t like my rules, you can move out”, and to my surprise EVERY time she would, and it would be that night.   My daughter would usually pack a backpack with a change of clothes and leave the house.   It would be months before I would see her or speak with her again and usually it was because she was out of money and her friends were sick of her living with them.   I always let her come back and would give the same speach about my house, my rules and my expectations.  My daughter was always so good for about a month, and then she would revert back to her old ways and the cycle would start again. 

About a year and a half ago she met this boy who I could tell was trouble.  It was a toxic combination from the start.   My daughter was soon staying out all night and coming home occasionaly until she eventually moved out, once again after an argument.    My daughter stayed clear of me for months, it had been the longest I had gone without any communication and I was a mess.  I would recieve random phone calls from her every now and again with promises to visit her younger sisters, come for a family dinner, celebrate a birthday, but she never showed.   One day I saw her and I knew instantly she was was “altered”….my daughter who was bubbly, funny and so full of life was talking as if she was in slow motion.   I knew from watching the show “Intervention” she she was high, but on what I had no clue.   I thought she had been drinking, but I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t smell the alcohol.   In a matter of minutes she was there and gone again..running out the door because this new boyfriend wanted her to meet him at his friends house down the road.   My instincts told me to chase her and beg her to come home, but I didn’t.  I still don’t know why.  

The day before Easter 2009 I recieved a text message that would start a whirlwind of emotions and would put me in situations that I had only seen on Jerry Springer or Maury!   The text said that she “Got locked up” and they didn’t know what to do.      The text came at 3am, so I slept through the buzzing of the phone.   The next day I redialed that phone a hundred times and they never answered.  I texted back what seemed like a million messages and recieved no response.   I found my daughter through word of mouth, a friend of hers let me know where she was.   Easter Sunday I drove 2 hours to the jail she was being held, and I sat waiting for an hour in a room filled with people who were quite frankly a bit scary.   I was so out of my element it was ridiculous.   The jail was horrid, it smelled, it was cold and it was filthy.   When they let me back to visit her, I could see her looking to see who had come to see her.   I knew from the look on her face that I was not who she expected and she fell into immediate tears.  I sat down on the cold steel stool that was saudered to the floor and picked up the phone that was screaming disease and held it to my ear.  My daughter stared at me through a glass window crying and ashamed.  I had been her only visitor since she had been there.   The first words that came out of her mouth were “I knew it would be you Mom”.     I somehow didn’t care that I was in a room filled with germs and holding a phone that could have given Lysol a run for it’s money, I was a blubbering mess.   I was crying my eyes out from this larger than life moment I was experiencing.   My daughters hand up against the glass to mine, us both crying hysterically and me powerless over all of it.  There was NOTHING I could do to help her or rescue her…absolutely nothing.   My daughter faced 3 felony charges consisting of drug trafficing, intent to sell, and possession….the drug… Cocaine.  

My daughter was released and came straight home, we were all so excited to see her but it only lasted a few hours.  The boyfriend called and in a matter of minutes she was hysterical and begging him to pick her up….before I knew it, she was gone.   I was devasted.   A month later I recieved a phone call from the Hospital.  My daughter was in the Emergency Room and I needed to get to her asap.  I flew to the hospital to find her uncontious and I was advised that she overdosed.    My daughter almost died that day and I sat and witnessed the variety of life saving measures they took to save her.   The Doctor came in and pulled out her arms and said that she was an I.V. user and I didnt’ really understand that until I asked  for him to clarify …”She shoots up”  he said and those words hit me like a sledgehammer!   Once he left, I pulled the covers back to discover puncture marks and lots of bruising on her body.  I also noticed that my child was filthy, like she had rolled around on a parking lot blacktop.   All I could think about as I washed her arms and legs is “what happened?”   “What the hell happened”   “How did it come to this” …. I felt like I failed her.   My daughter was a drug user, an Addict, and looked like a homeless person.     The next 24 hours she spent in the ICU, and when she was released she left with him, the boyfriend who only showed up to pick her up.   The medical staff warned me that it would happen, but I had so much hope and felt as though I knew my child better than anyone, that surely she would leave with me.   I wanted to save her.    I left the hospital alone.    I offered her rehab fully paid and our 100% support, but she refused.  I offered to take her to meetings but she refused.  I finally stopped offering.

My daughter ended up serving 3 months in jail and I visited her every weekend on both Saturday’s and Sunday’s.  It was the only time in the past year that I had seen her sober.  I got used to the 2 hour drive up and 2 hours back, I got to know the other parents visiting their children, and I was able to laugh instead of cry during our visits.  Its strange to say this,but those were some of the best times I have had with her in a long time.  We were giggling about the funny things her sisters did, we got excited about her life plans and changes she would make to get healthy and lead the kind of life she knew she was capable of.   

My daughter was released in December and she left me in January.  

Current occupation:  Stripper

Current residence:  Motel 6

My daughter has 3 years probation with numerous conditions, none of which she is meeting.   

Is she using again?   I can honestly say that I don’t know.

Do I think she is?   Absolutely. 

I live every day wondering if I will see her again.     I text message her every day just to see if she will answer.   I say no to everything now, especially when she asks for money.   I will feed her.   I tell her that I love her every chance I get.    

But mostly I am terrified that she will die from a drug overdose and I will spend my life wishing I would have, or asking myself why I didn’t. 

I am at a loss and her addiction has consumed my life.  I feel like I am a hostage to it and I am slowly losing myself to it.   

I put on my brave face for my family.   I have my professional face at work.     I even pretend that I am holding my ground with the tough love to my friends and family, but when I am alone, she consumes my thoughts and I spend many nights alone crying…..I am just terrified and hoping God hears my prayers.  

As I lay down for bed and my eyes are about to shut, I always tell her goodnight and I hope that a Mothers love can be felt from that distance and I wonder if I will ever see my sober daughter again.

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