My mom has been on my mind lately. I tend to think of her a lot more in the fall anyways (because fall was her favorite), but.... someone that I know lost a loved one to a heroin overdose recently, and now I find myself grieving for her again.
The last year of her life, she was struggling so much with depression, alcoholism, and illness due to alcoholism. My mom had been clean from heroin for... I don't know, 10 or 12 years. She used to talk to me about everything. When her and my dad lost custody of us, she hit rock bottom. She said that her time spent in prison, she was the healthiest that she'd been in a long time. Not just physically healthy, because she was clean, ate well, exercised.... but also, she was healthier mentally & emotionally. She was getting the help that she so desperately needed to try to reset her life. She was learning about abuse, getting help, learning to let go and break free from the chains that were holding her down.
She wrote to us often, although we didn't know it. One day, while hunting for some paperwork that my grandma needed, in her sea of infinite things, I came across a manila envelope. Inside of it were tons of letters, from my mom, to me and my brothers. My grandma had hid them, and fed us lies, that she didn't love us or care about us.
My mom used to tell me how completely heroin would take away her pain, like nothing she'd ever experienced before. It would be a lifelong battle to stay away from it. She knew how easily it could destroy her life if she relapsed, but I don't think that she thought it would actually rip her life away. She relapsed, and wanted her pain to be gone, because she was hurting so much that year... and I guess it did take away her pain... but in exchange, it brought immense pain to the people she left behind.
I'm sure if she could have another chance... to do it differently, to know that the outcome would have been death.... she would have held onto that pain, if she could have kept that pain from us...
It breaks my heart again, every time that I hear of another life lost to heroin.
Her granddaughters are growing. Only one remembers her. She's missing out on watching them grow... I pray to God that I'm around long after my girls are grown and their kids are grown too. I want to be at my grandkids graduations & weddings and everything.
If she were still here, she'd be so proud of us... even when we feel like there's nothing to be proud of us for.
I just miss her. She would tell me everything and I would tell her everything. I was never shy or ashamed with her. I could let down my walls with her.
Sure, I can sit behind a keyboard, or pen and paper, and spill my guts and be vulnerable... but to do that in person, it's so hard to find people that you can really just be completely open with. No walls, no hiding...
If you read all this, you're very patient. Thanks for reading my rambling mess. ♡
The last year of her life, she was struggling so much with depression, alcoholism, and illness due to alcoholism. My mom had been clean from heroin for... I don't know, 10 or 12 years. She used to talk to me about everything. When her and my dad lost custody of us, she hit rock bottom. She said that her time spent in prison, she was the healthiest that she'd been in a long time. Not just physically healthy, because she was clean, ate well, exercised.... but also, she was healthier mentally & emotionally. She was getting the help that she so desperately needed to try to reset her life. She was learning about abuse, getting help, learning to let go and break free from the chains that were holding her down.
She wrote to us often, although we didn't know it. One day, while hunting for some paperwork that my grandma needed, in her sea of infinite things, I came across a manila envelope. Inside of it were tons of letters, from my mom, to me and my brothers. My grandma had hid them, and fed us lies, that she didn't love us or care about us.
My mom used to tell me how completely heroin would take away her pain, like nothing she'd ever experienced before. It would be a lifelong battle to stay away from it. She knew how easily it could destroy her life if she relapsed, but I don't think that she thought it would actually rip her life away. She relapsed, and wanted her pain to be gone, because she was hurting so much that year... and I guess it did take away her pain... but in exchange, it brought immense pain to the people she left behind.
I'm sure if she could have another chance... to do it differently, to know that the outcome would have been death.... she would have held onto that pain, if she could have kept that pain from us...
It breaks my heart again, every time that I hear of another life lost to heroin.
Her granddaughters are growing. Only one remembers her. She's missing out on watching them grow... I pray to God that I'm around long after my girls are grown and their kids are grown too. I want to be at my grandkids graduations & weddings and everything.
If she were still here, she'd be so proud of us... even when we feel like there's nothing to be proud of us for.
I just miss her. She would tell me everything and I would tell her everything. I was never shy or ashamed with her. I could let down my walls with her.
Sure, I can sit behind a keyboard, or pen and paper, and spill my guts and be vulnerable... but to do that in person, it's so hard to find people that you can really just be completely open with. No walls, no hiding...
If you read all this, you're very patient. Thanks for reading my rambling mess. ♡