The Wind

This morning a gust of wind woke me up. I couldn't go back to sleep. It's funny how the smallest things, like wind, will get your mind rolling.  

The flowers at the cemetery...

Has the wind messed them up?

I should make a trip out there today and check.

But bad weather is on it's way.

Maybe I should wait until that storm system rolls through before I go.

What if the flowers bleed?

Maybe I should make a back-up arrangement just in case.

Nope, I'm not going to obsess.

I laid in bed and my mind kept going. Thoughts of my mama can be so beautiful but they can also haunt me. This morning a new thought popped in my head. One I haven't thought of at all until this morning. I can't shake it.

When my mom first started taking pain pills she was still very innocent. She had to steal a prescription pad from the Doctors office and write her own prescriptions. She got caught. The judge went easy on her. He took one look at her and recognized she was not a danger or threat to society. He made her attend NA meetings. My mom was incredibly embarrassed and remorseful. She got clean. She started going to NA meetings regularly. That is when she became friends with those people. I did not like those people one bit. I thought they were trashy, I had the right to think that. I knew they were using my mom. She had a car, she had money, and she had a huge heart. She wanted to save those people. It wasn't long and my mom was caught up in the drama and chaos of those people. It wasn't long until my mom started using again. Now she had connections. Connections to much more than pain pills. 

One friend of hers, I really hated. This lady was horrible. She instantly had a thing for my mom and she came around ALL THE TIME. This woman, I will call her Mullet because it's the nicest word I can come up with to describe her and she naturally had a mullet, was the worse thing that ever happened to my mama. Mullet was the lowest of the low. She could't read or write. She was a thief. She got in fights. She was a drug addict.

My mom and Mullet lived together after mom and bonus dad divorced. I couldn't stand it! My mom was left in good shape after the divorce. She got the house that was paid for, her car that was paid for, and a large sum of cash. She also received alimony for two years. I would love to tell you how much she got to give you a clear picture but I am going to respect my bonus dad and not say. I will tell you this, it was a dangerous amount for a drug addict. In a short two years my mom had nothing. She didn't have a house or a penny to her name. It was all gone, IN TWO YEARS...GONE! Trust me, your mouth would drop and you would have a hard time believing me if I told you the amount.

Mom and Mullet found a tiny house in the city and that is where they lived for the last ten years or so. Those ten years were pure and utter hell. I loved my mom, I could deal with her. When I had to deal with Mullet I would lose it. She would call me and cuss me out. She would say things to me that I would't say to my biggest enemy, they were evil. I would sink to her level and the fight was on. Have I mentioned I hated her?

In January of 2015 my mom found Mullet dead. She overdosed and died in her sleep. When I got the phone call from my uncle telling me that Mullet was dead, I started crying. I wasn't one bit sad that Mullet had died, I hated her. I sounds bad to say I hate a dead person, doesn't it? I was scared. I knew this was going to be rock bottom for my mama. This would make or break her. Deep down I knew it would break her. I knew my mama's time on this earth was short. That is when I started writing my blog.

I laid in bed this morning and thought of everyone my mama would be spending Thanksgiving with tomorrow. She will be with her mom and dad, her baby grandson, her sister, her grandmother that she loved so deeply. Out of nowhere, for the first time since my mom passed away, Mullet popped in my head.

Noooo, don't let my mom be spending Thanksgiving with Mullet!!

Surly Mullet isn't in heaven, she was evil.

I don't want them together!

But if I know God is compassionate and has forgiven my mom then shouldn't I expect the same for Mullet? 

Today I am praying for Mullet. I am praying for her soul. I am praying that she is at peace and in her perfect form. I need to do this. I need to do this for my mama but more importantly I need to do this for myself. I am going to make peace with Mullet. I will not try to play God and pick and choose who deserves forgiveness. As I pray for Mullet's soul, I will be helping to heal mine. 

      

  

Thankful & Grateful

I have been dreading this since the day my mom took her life. I love the holidays. This year is different. The thought of them give me anxiety. I didn't spend very many holidays with my mom. She always had some tragic emergency excusing her from coming around. Something always prevented her from showing up to family gatherings. Sickness, car trouble, drive by shootings, break-ins, muggings, and so on. None of which were true. I, of course, went along with her stupid stories. I am frustrated with myself for that. Why didn't I call her out? Why didn't I fight harder? I lived in fear. I was terrified of my mama. I was scared to death that the minute I called her out she would kill herself. When my brother would tell me he was going to confront her, I got scared. I would give him the scenario  of him having that hard truth talk with her and then she kills herself. I was worried sick he would have to live with that. He would change his mind and keep quiet. He was scared, too.

I spent Thanksgiving with my mama two years ago. I was a nervous wreck. My husband's family was at my house. My mom was beat to hell. She told me a man with road rage pulled her out of her car and beat her. I knew that wasn't the truth. I knew that wasn't what happened. Once again, I went along with it. I acted like I believed every word she said, even though her story changed a few times. I am dealing with that. I hate it. Why was I such a coward? The very thing I was so scared of happened. Why didn't I get real with her? If I would have had that hard come to Jesus talk with her she might be spending this Thanksgiving with me. I hate this. I already said that, didn't I?         

I think I unknowingly sabotaged this holiday season. I put our house on the market with no plan. We have no home to buy. Who does that?! Our house sold in three days. We are closing on December 18th. Do you know what that means? No decorating for the holidays. This year instead of enjoying the holidays we will be packing up and moving. Very clever, huh? Until the moment I had a small breakdown. Out of nowhere I started crying. I blurted out to my husband I am leaving my mom! I am leaving the house that she knows I live in! What if she needs me? She won't be able to find me! I was stunned when those words came out of my mouth. I started laughing and crying at the same time. I knew what I said was crazy. Where did that come from?

Even though I am dealing with a lot of stupid guilt and self-doubt, it is easy to recognize how blessed I am. I have the most patient, kind, giving, loving, and handsome husband. I have a son that would make it easy for me to be of those annoying bragging moms. He is wise beyond his years. I have a brother that is my best friend. We decided a long time ago that we would stand united through everything and we have never swayed from that. I have a bonus dad that has been my rock. He is the most compassionate human I have ever known. I can count on him 100% of the time. I have his new wife and her family. They are good people. I consider them family. I have my dad's family. They have stood by me every.single.step of the way.  I have in-laws that I could have searched the world over and not found better. Most importantly, I have a compassionate, loving, and forgiving God. Because of Him I will see my mama's beautiful face again. Because of Him I know my mom is healed and complete. I am thankful and grateful. Happy Thanksgiving!

   

   

Hope

Four months ago today I was woken by a 4:00 am phone call. I had no idea what was in store. I had no idea that my heart would be ripped out of my chest. I had no idea my mom was in such a state of desperation. I had no idea I would never speak to my mama again. I had no idea I would be planning a funeral. I had no idea I would be shaken to the core. I had no idea.

If you love an addict you know that awful things happen. You know things happen that you know nothing about and honestly, you don't want to know. You know the anger, confusion, disappointment, frustration and love you have. You also know when things are really bad there is this small amount of hope you start to feel. You think maybe this is rock bottom. Maybe this is what it will take. You always have hope. You quit admitting to people you have hope because the people that love you want to protect you from being let down... again. But deep inside you have hope.

On July 3rd, I had hope. I was so frustrated with my mom. Her bad choices were incredibly frustrating. I knew there was a good chance my uncle's were going to kick my mom out of my grandma's house. I wouldn't blame them, my grandma was too old. I knew my mom would be backed against a wall. She would have nowhere to go. I told my mom she was always welcome at my house but she had to go to treatment and complete it first, my brother felt the same way. My mom was out of options. This could be her rock bottom. I had hope. 

I knew my mom was suicidal. I knew she had those thoughts. At times she would speak openly to me about them. I didn't think she would actually do it. She attempted so many times. We all know if you really want to kill yourself, you can get it done. She had never gotten it done. I didn't think she would actually go through with it. When my uncle called and told me about the suicide letter and that the gun was missing, I knew I was wrong. I knew my mom had done it. For the first time ever, all of my hope was gone.

I keep waiting for the "relief" everyone talks about. I am not relieved that my mom committed suicide. I am finding peace with it. I am coping with it. I am soaking in the small things. I am loving my friends and family harder. I am loosening up. I am truly living life. I believe in happiness. I have my hope back. Hope that my mom's story will help someone. Hope that her grandchildren have seen what drugs do and they will never take that road. Hope that people will change their views and opinions on how to treat addicts. Hope.      

Learning to Adapt

It has almost been 4 months since my mama passed away. The last few weeks have been "magical". My emotions have seemed to level out, I am feeling like my old self again. I have worked really hard to stop some obsessive, unhealthy habits I have developed since my mom took her life. I am not sure if the things I found myself doing are normal or if I was losing my mind a little, I am hoping they were normal. I couldn't wait for my husband to leave town (he travels a lot for his job) and for my son to go to school. I loved being all alone so I could do all my new "rituals" without anyone knowing. 

I created a playlist of the songs that were played at my mom's funeral. I would listen to them in perfect order that they were played at mama's service. One small interruption and I would start all over, from the beginning. I would close my eyes and really feel the music. This could go on for hours, tears streaming the whole time. I have deleted all the songs from my playlist. Okay, I kept "Hands" by Jewel. I love that song, I don't want to delete it. All the others are gone. This was a big step for me. I think know it has been a good thing.

I have a box of my mama's things. She didn't have a lot but there were a few things I became obsessed with. I have her Bible. I would read the scriptures she had highlighted. I would try to figure out at what stage in her life she highlighted them and what exactly they meant to her. I guess in some funny way I felt like it would show me her soul. I would read and re-read the poem on the flyer they handed out at her service. It was beautiful and in my mind so fitting. And then there was her suicide letter. You can only imagine how obsessed I became with that thing! It didn't give any true answers but I guess I thought if I read it a million times I would find something I missed all the previous times I read it. I was letting myself become a crazy person. About a month ago I had my husband take that box and put it in the attic. I had to stop. The guilt I felt was huge. I felt like I was just throwing my mama in the attic. How could I just throw her in the attic? It was the right thing to do.

I miss my mom so much. I wasn't prepared for how much I would miss her. Sometimes I wonder if I was a little addicted to the craziness she brought into my life. There was always drama. I always needed to help her. I felt like her mother. She needed me. I always had a crazy, unbelievable story. I don't anymore. The craziness is over. In the blink of an eye it was all over and gone. I am learning to adapt. I love her. I miss her. 



     

Nothing Left To Do But Heal

Three things have been hanging over my head since my mom's death. These three things I have dreaded so much, I have not been sure I could handle the emotions that I knew would go along with them. I also knew without doing these three things I could never truly rest and find the complete peace I have so desperately  been longing for. Selling my mom's belongings, reading her suicide note, and listening to a few voice mails I still had on my phone from her. These things have been so heavy on my shoulders, it was time.

The day of my mom's burial my brother's family, my bonus dad, and my little family loaded all my mom's stuff up and brought it back. Everything she owned fit in two trucks and two trailers. In order to get my mom's things we had to go where she killed herself. My grandma bought the house next door to her and our family uses that house as our own personal storage unit. That is where my mom's stuff was. The carport on the side of that house is where my mom was found. An old car was parked there and she was inside that car. That old house is so sad, my mom's last view on this earth was such a sad and lonely place.

The saddest place on earth

Once we had all my mom's things, it was time to go through them. My emotions were all over the place. I would get mad at how she lived, her once nice things were in horrible condition, everything was dirty and had an odor. There were things that touched my heart. My mom held on to some things that my brother and I had made or written for her. Her life was so crazy and out of control but she managed to hold on to a few things that were special to her. I was sad, my mom, who once had it all, had nothing. Every last thing she owned came to $1000. That broke my heart into a million pieces. Her life was so, so sad.

We had not been able to see my mom's suicide letter. When a person commits suicide the letter is taken and held as evidence, just in case there was any foul play. They cannot release the letter until they have received all the records from the medical examiner's office stating it was indeed a suicide. A week ago today I found out that the letter was ready to be picked up. My husband took the next day off of work and away we went. My heart was pounding the whole way there. I can't put into words the feeling I had of the Savior's presence. I could feel his warmth and I knew everything was going to be okay. 

I had the letter in my hands but didn't read it until I got in the car. It was written on three little pieces of paper, like grocery list paper. As I read her jumbled words and scattered thoughts I felt ripped off. My mom had ripped me off, again. I wanted so badly for my mom to tell me how much she loved me, I wanted at least a paragraph. My brother and I got a few sentences, that's it. She said she loved us and we deserve better. She asked for forgiveness. That is all we got. I am not mad at her, it shows me how numb she was at that moment. My mom was numb, tired,desperate, and finished.

The evening after reading her suicide letter, my husband and I were sitting on the back porch. I was ready to listen to her voice mails. It was the last thing I needed to do and I was ready. As I listened to them, four to be exact, they actually made me giggle a bit. Two of them she was high, I could tell in two seconds if my mom was loaded. In one of them she was griping me out, that one made me giggle the most. The other one she actually sounded clear! She would have a day every now and then when she sounded like my old mom again. I have one of those moments captured on my phone, it is precious to me.

I have learned so much in three short months. I have marveled at God's timing since my mom passed away. His timing is always spot on, always. I thought I was going to help so many people by sharing my mom's story, the truth is everyone has helped me. I have learned that people are good, loving, and caring. I will live the rest of my life pouring love on everyone that crosses my path. In the end it's about how we made people feel, it's about helping others, it's about kindness, and it's about loving one another. May the healing begin...   

     

  

Blame and Forgiveness

When my mom took her life I was in shock the first few days. It didn't seem real, it still doesn't sometimes. My mom attempted suicide several times but never succeeded. I truly believed I was as ready for her death as anyone could be. I have been surprised by the overwhelming emotions that have flooded in. The truth is, it's hard to accept what she did. The fact that she left me on purpose, that it was a choice, has been a big pill to swallow. My mom loved me, she wouldn't do this to me and my brother deliberately. The blame came sneaking in...

The first person that I laid the blame on was her brother. She has two brothers, one was her best friend. I am close to that one, he is pretty wonderful. The other one my mom hated, he deserved to be hated. When my mom was a little girl he did unimaginable things to her. I saw him at my grandma's house a few days after my mom passed away. The anger and hate rushed over me. I couldn't stand to look at him, listen to him, or be in the same room as him. He started talking about my mom's salvation, oh yes, he did. I had to go outside before I lost it. He needs to worry about HIS OWN salvation, not my mom's. By the time I left my grandma's house that day it was all his fault. If he hadn't been such a sicko, my mom never would have gone down the path that she did. She was trying to cover the pain that HE caused. He did this to my mother, I hated him.

While we were at my grandma's house my brother grabbed my mom's cell phone and took it home with him. A few days later my brother called to tell me something he found on my mom's phone. The night my mom took my grandma's car, the day before she killed herself, a lady sent my mom a text. The text simply said "I have 25 of those for you". When my mom's bank statement came in, we saw that lady had cashed the check that my mom wrote her that night. We had her full name and with a little investigation on my brother's part we found out who she was, where she lived, and even found her on Facebook. Phil talked me out of lashing out at her. SHE killed my mom! I needed her to know what she did, I hated her.

Not long after that, I started focusing on my biological father. He was awful to my mom when they were married. He cheated on her many times, stayed out at bars all night, and treated her like his servant. My mom loved my dad deeply but all she got in return was hurt. He was so caught up in himself he didn't realize what he was doing to her, she felt unlovable. My own father did't even call me when he found out about my mom's death. He is an A-hole for lack of a better word. He may not of been the whole reason my mom killed herself but he was definitely a contributing factor.  

I have placed plenty of blame on myself. I know the tone I had with my mom the last several times we spoke, I know she heard it. I convinced myself that my mom was never going to change. I accepted who she was and what she had become. I quit fighting for her. She never would have quit on me, but I quit on her. I could have done more but I chose not to, it was exhausting. I took the easy way out. If I would have tried harder my mom would still be here.

Then there is my mom. How dare she do this to me! I have begged and pleaded with her too many times to count. I have fought with her and I have loved her. She made her choices and they were selfish. I have cried and told her how much it would hurt if I lost her, she knew, she did it anyways. Instead of facing us after she wrecked my grandma's car she got a gun. I have been so angry at her. My own mother hurt me more than anyone else on the face of the earth. My mom, that I loved so dearly, did this to herself.

I have had to do more forgiving in the past two months than I have had to do in my entire life. It has been vital for my peace and happiness. I forgive my uncle. I don't like him, I don't want to be around him but I forgive him. He has to live with what he has done, it is between him and God.

 I forgive the lady that sold my mom drugs. I know that if she wouldn't have sold them to my mom, someone else would have. My mom was an addict and she would have found a way. 

I forgive my dad. He was young when he and my mom were married. He has shut out almost his entire family. He can't be happy, I feel sorry for him.

 The hardest has been forgiving myself, I am getting there. I talk to my mom, she has forgiven me, I feel it. I will forgive myself too, I will.

 I forgive my mom. I hope she sees my brother and I on our strong days, I hope she looks down and knows we'll be okay. I no longer want her to know she hurt me, she has suffered enough. I want her to know I'm not mad at her. I tell her, I think she knows. 

I love my mom. I miss her so much it hurts. I have never considered myself a strong person but God has given me strength. I wish I could see my mom right now, in her perfect form. I am sure everyone that has lost a loved one feels that way. I have felt the spirit so may times over the last few months, I know my mom is with Christ. I am at peace.      

          

   

       

A Letter to my Mom

Mom-

I wish I could talk to you one last time. I want you to know everything that has been going on and all we have been through. I want you to know what you have done to us. I want you to know how angry I am at you. I hope somehow, someway you see this letter.

The first week after you took your life I was devastated. I felt so sorry for you. My heart was broken, it took everything in me to just  to crack a smile. I cried more tears than I thought was humanly possible. Your son was devastated, also. We thought about how much you have suffered over the years and how lonely you must have felt. We felt like we had let you down, that we could have done something different. The regret I have felt at times has been unbearable. 

I really felt the need to do one last thing for you to show you how much I loved you. I took that need and put it into trying to make your viewing as beautiful as possible. I bought you an outfit. It was tough finding something that I thought was nice enough for you that was also thick material over your chest. I didn't want any evidence of a gunshot wound showing up. I framed pictures of you before addiction so people could see how beautiful you were. I bought white candles because I thought they looked heavenly and peaceful. I redid your makeup and hair the best I could with my shaking hands. I wanted you to be proud. I wanted you to know I cared.

Now, I am mad. How dare you do this to us?! You have put me through the pits of hell over the last 12 years and then you just copped out like this! You are selfish! You sent me a card on my birthday and in that card you wrote to me my birthday gift from you. It was your word that you would NEVER try to take your life again. That you were so sorry for everything you have put me through and that I can sleep well knowing it will never happen again. LIES! You always lied to me, about everything, I really didn't believe you.

I wish you could have seen your sons face the day of your funeral. It is an image that I will never forget. He looked so sad, so disappointed. He wanted to go search for you as soon as he found out you were missing. He wanted to be the one to find you. The thought of you just laying dead somewhere was too much for him. I talked him out of it. I didn't want that to be something he lived with the rest of his life. He told me he wanted to sit in the car you killed yourself in, he wanted to feel your pain. Are you kidding me, mom? How could you do that to your son? You have been dead for 4 weeks and 1 day and he has only gotten three good nights of sleep. His average is three hours of sleep at night. What kind of mother would do that to her child?!

Then there's my son. Your death hasn't been a huge loss for him. I kept him from you. I didn't want him around you, I didn't trust you. After you died I was reading his texts. A friend texted him saying sorry about your grandma. Guess what his response was? I'M GLAD IT HAPPENED. I WAS TIRED OF HER UPSETTING AND HURTING MY MOM! That makes me so mad at you I can't even see straight! You have been so horrible over the last several years that my son is happy you're dead. The only grandma he knew was an awful person that caused grief to the people he loved. I am pissed at you, to say the least.

I know anger is a stage of grief and this will go away. I know I wouldn't be so mad at you if I didn't love you. Of course, I love you. I want a do-over. I want you back. I want one more chance. I want to scream and yell at you. I want to march your butt into rehab and convince you to stay. I want to hug you and never let go. I wish I could have saved you, mom. I wish I wouldn't have given up. I'm so incredibly sorry. 

Your daughter

XOXOXOXOXO    

   

The Weeks After

It has been two weeks and two days since my mom died. In the past 10 years I have played her death out in my mind a million times. In those 10 years I never played the scenario out of her shooting herself. It was always an overdose, a car wreck, or her body just quitting. Maybe that's why this has been so tough, I wasn't ready for it to happen this way. Maybe it would have been this tough no matter how it happened. I guess I will never know.

I will never know a lot of things. I am surprised by all the questions I have, questions to that seem so important to me right now. Was she crying or was she numb? Was she angry or was she sad? Did she die instantly or did she suffer? Did she REALLY mean to do it? Did she feel loved? Did she think I had given up on her? If I would have called her would this have happened? These questions will never be answered, and even if they were it wouldn't change anything. I have to let them go. I will figure how with time.  

The day after my mom died we found out that she shot herself in the heart. My brother and I assumed she had shot herself in the head. This was a huge shock to us. This meant we could have a viewing and see her one more time. The thought of that made me very anxious, I wasn't sure if I could handle seeing her. Seeing mom was very important to my brother so, that's what we did. Walking into that room to see her were the the hardest steps I have ever taken. If my brother hadn't been there talking me through it and holding my hand I'm not sure if I would have gone in. My mom looked so old. Even though her eyes were closed I could see all the hurt in her eyes. She looked tired, she looked defeated.

My brother and I are going to get through this. We both have so many things to be grateful for. We both believe with all of our hearts that our mom is ok now, that she is not suffering anymore. We both are clinging to that. We are finding joy in each day. I am smiling and surrounding myself with people that I love everyday, even when I just feel like curling up in a ball and crying. Everything is going to be ok. It is well with my soul.   

Yesterday, The Hardest Day of My Life

Yesterday my beautiful mom passed away. My heart is shattered. I have known this day was coming for a long time but I guess I'm not as ready as I thought I would be. I love my mom. I am going to miss her more than I can explain in words.  

When I started sharing the story I said I was going to be honest. I want to help people so, I intend to keep sharing and writing. Honestly, it is therapeutic for me. Here is what played out yesterday...

At 4:00am I was woken up by a phone call. It was my Uncle so I froze and didn't answer. He wouldn't call me at 4:00 to chit-chat. I woke Phil up and asked him to sit with me while I called my Uncle back because I knew I was about to get the news that my mom had passed. As soon as he answered the phone I knew my mom was ok. His voice told me she was alive. My mom was living with my grandma and she had snuck my grandma's car out in the middle of the night and wrecked her car. My mom found a ride back to my grandma's house and when she got to the house she was acting awful. She was yelling at my poor grandma and had lost all control. My grandma called my Uncle and he rushed over there and called the police.

My feelings of worry turned into feelings of anger. My mom could be the most frustrating person on earth. What in the world was she thinking?!?! It is the first of the month so she just got her social security check. I know she left to get drugs but I don't know what exactly she was getting or where she was getting them. I almost called her but decided not to because I didn't feel like fighting with her. I told Phil that I was not going to let her ruin our holiday weekend. I will never regret anything more than I regret that choice.

Around noon my grandma and Uncle left to go get my grandma's car. When they returned home they found a suicide note and my mom had taken the gun. When my Uncle called and told me, I knew. I knew that this time was different, I knew deep down that my mom had finally succeeded. The police found her in an old, broke-down car close to my grandma's house.    

 I have to figure out how to get that vision out of my head. It breaks my heart to think of how desperate my mom felt in her final moments. I keep asking God to please let my mom know how much I love her. I need my mom to know how much she was loved.  

Happy Independent's Day, mom! You are finally free. You are free from all the hurt and you are free from addiction. I will never be ashamed of you or your struggles. I am proud to have you as my mom. I love you, always.

The Good Years

When my mom and bonus dad got married things were really good for me, it was a different story for my brother. He didn't like the thought of our mom being with another man. He really wanted our parents to stay together. My brother and my dad had a much closer bond than my dad and I had. I was always scared of my dad, that's how he liked it. Anyways, my brother put up a good fight when my mom remarried. It's funny how two kids in the exact same house with the exact same situation handle things completely different. My brother was in total misery while I was in total bliss.

I believe with all my heart that my mom was happy, though she denies it now. She was such a good mom and wife, in fact, I would put her at the top as one of the best. We spent so much time together. My mom was hilarious! She loved pulling pranks on people and she was really good at it. I remember eggs being cracked on heads, cold water dumped on you while you were in the shower, you could never trust a sink sprayer, and sandwiches being wrapped in tampon boxes. We never missed church and my mom never missed an opportunity to teach me right from wrong. Our home full of laughter and happiness.

Things started SLOWLY going down hill. My mom would have a random day that she wouldn't come out of her room or a day that she couldn't smile. She started getting sick all the time but the Doctor's could never quite figure out what was wrong. She became too sick to leave the house. Our house slowly became a place that we tip-toed around so that we were sure not to disturb her.

My bonus dad took on my moms duties around the house. He did the cooking, grocery shopping, and cleaning. Mom stayed in her room. We lived a pretty normal life, all the while mom was locked up in her room. Sometimes I wouldn't see her for weeks. Then it happened.  I came home from school to discover the police had been at our house. My mom had been stealing prescription pads from the Doctor's office and writing her own prescriptions for pain medicine. She got caught and was in big trouble. I couldn't believe she had been doing that but I wasn't totally shocked either. Thus, the beginning of a slippery slope called drug addition.   

My favorite picture of me and my brother

Bonus Dad

The next few years were more of the same. Parents fighting, mom not coming out of her room for days, and a feeling of overall unhappiness in the home. Then... things took a turn for the better!

My parents finally got a divorce! This was a GREAT thing! They were not good together. My brother is older than me so he remembers more than I do. He says our parents loved hard and fought hard. I really don't remember the love part but he does so, I believe him. 

Remember the neighbors that my dad took me to when my mom had the gun? Well, those neighbors were the best thing that had happened to our family. The mom of that family and my mom became best friends, she was such a positive person in my moms life. My mom became active in church, helped people every chance she got, and took really good care of me and my brother. I felt safe and happy.

Things were good only to get better! My mom met someone at church. I instantly loved this man. He was fun, gentle, nerdy, strong, kind and I wanted my mom to marry him. I don't know how a kid can have an instant connection with a grown man but, I did. A short time later my mom was remarried! For some reason I don't like the word step-dad, I don't know why, step-parents are evil. HA! He was not a step-parent, he was a BONUS dad! My mom hit the JACKPOT!

Bonus dad on Halloween! Seriously... FUNNY!

 

My First Memory

I'm not sure how long my mom has been hooked on drugs. I first found out about it when I was a sophomore in high school. I always knew something wasn't right. My mom wasn't like other moms, she had problems.

The first memory I have was when I was probably 4 or 5 years old. My mom and dad were fighting, again. Their fights were scary and violent. I would hide under the bed or in the closet most of the time. Looking back, I thought it was all my dads fault. He worked in the oil field and was gone a lot. I know there were other women. I don't know how many but, enough. When he would come home it was war. I hated my dad being home. This time was no different.

I remember the screaming. I heard my dad yell "Oh God, No!" My dad ran to me and swooped me up. My mom had a gun and it was pointed at us! My dad took off running with me in his arms. I heard the gun shots. My dad kept running. I was so scared. He got us to the neighbors house (this neighbor has turned out to be my life long best friend). I remember him dropping me off and then turning around and going right back home! I begged him not to go back, I just knew my mom was going to kill him.

The police showed up at our house and took my mom away. She didn't go to jail, she went to a mental ward somewhere. I stayed with my grandparents while my mom was away. When she returned home it was as if nothing had ever happened. We never spoke of it.

mom and dad

   

What a Beautiful Life

So why now? Why share this for everyone to see? This is something that has always embarrassed me. If people know how my mom is then they'll probably think I'm a little coo-coo myself. People will feel sorry for me. People won't know what to say. People will give me their "2 cents". I don't love any of those reactions. 

This past year has been a gigantic eye opener. You see, I have gotten to know a small group of youth. When I say small, I mean SMALL. My heart was shattered when I found out that several of these kids are struggling with the same situation I grew up with. I have shed many tears for these precious babies. I want to save them. I want them to know what I see when I look into their eyes. They are beautiful. This does not define who they are or what they can become.

I have wondered why I was dealt this hand. I have looked at other mother's and wished my mom was like them. I would love my son to have the grandma I know my mom is capable of being. And now, I wouldn't trade my life experiences with anyone. It is so clear. I have to share my story. I have to help others.

I love life. I love friends. I love family. I love God. Life is beautiful.

My slice of heaven

 







   

The Mother's Day obligatory phone call

Well, I did it. I called my mom today to wish her a Happy Mother's Day. Phone calls to my mom aren't easy. I never know which mom I'm going to get and honestly, they all frustrate me.

Sometimes she's angry at the world. You see, everyone in her life has done her wrong and that makes her see red. Even I had the nerve to grow up and leave the house! Can you even imagine? HA! She really has said that to me... a lot!

And then there's the mom that doesn't really know she's on the phone. She doesn't know much of anything. She stumbles over her words and the next day has no memory of us ever talking. Just a few weeks ago she called me with her feelings hurt because we hadn't talked in a week. I just giggled and reminded her of our conversation the day before.

Today when I called I got the sobbing mom. She cried and cried. She said it was because her foot hurts and she is in so much pain. If that is true I feel sorry..........

MY MOM JUST CALLED ME AND ASKED FOR TINA! JUST NOW! Who the heck is Tina?! 

Back to my moms foot... Long story short there is always SOMETHING wrong with my mom. I'm pretty sure she is just fishing for pain pills. 

This has been a long and bumpy road. Sometimes I want to take the first exit and never look back. I could never really do that. She is my mom. I love her. I hate her. I have compassion for her. I have bitterness towards her. I never want to speak to her again. I call her the next day.

I love this picture

 

   

Happy Mother's Day

This is new to me.

 I don't know if I'm doing this blog thing right but I'll figure it out.

I want to blog! I have things to say, I think you'll find them fascinating.

 Well, not fascinating but definitely interesting.

 I hope I can touch one person with my story.

 A story of addiction and mental illness.

 I am the daughter of a mentally ill and very drug addicted mother.

 This Mother's Day I am celebrating the person I know is inside my mom. 

 I am excited to share my story with you.

 The good, the bad, the ugly.

My beautiful mother