Friday, 15 November 2013

I'm the Child of a Narcotics Addict (Part 2)


Please click here to read Part 1

Part 2 

I found the number for the `PEI addiction facility` and dialed the number. I tried to be as professional as possible, mature but firm on my delivery. I explained that my mother needed to be admitted to the facility because I felt that she was a danger to herself and that she was “doped out of her mind”. I don’t remember the answer that time, but I do believe they said their beds were full and that she would have to consent. I hung up the phone. How can they say that to a KID that’s calling about the state of their mother?

I set off to try to talk to the babbling zombie on the couch.  I tried to ask her if she would go to the `treatment` center. I explained that she needed help, that I needed her to go for me because I and she could not do this anymore. This was a typical `pep` talk that I have had with her on many occasions. Hoping that this time she would magically agree;  that this would be the last time I would have to go through “the talk.” She continued to babble random things, nodding off in between. I just started to cry, I could not take it anymore.

I made the decision that she was going to Mt. Herbert. I convinced her to get dressed in something “presentable” saying I was taking her to the hospital. I carried her out to the car. Sure, I had my beginners at that point but my mother was NOT coming back home with me. I drove the half hour, following signs to the PEI addiction facility. I drove up to the side of the building, not the front, so no one would come out and question what I was doing.

My heart was pounding. I felt sick to my stomach. Not only will I have to drive home alone without my license, but I felt like I was betraying my mother. Why am I the one that’s outside an addiction facility forcing my mom to go inside? Why am I feeling like I can’t go in with her because they would just force me to take her home with me?

 My mom had passed out, head forward. I sat there and looked at her. I started to cry. My heart was breaking into a million pieces. I took a breath and I slapped her on the arm. She came to, sitting up straight and looking at me like a deer in headlights, like she had been asleep for years.

She seemed coherent for a moment asking me what is wrong because she could see the tears that had drenched my angry face.  All I said was, “You need to go in there” pointing at the door, trying to be as firm as possible. She looked confused. Again, “Mommy that’s the treatment center, you are going to get out of this car and walk in THERE.”  I knew she was going to fight me on it. She still looked confused.

She then said, “Why? Why did you take me here? I’m not going to go in there. You’re taking me home.” She was starting to get angry at me. A ploy. I knew this because she thought she was going to get out of this. I was not going to be a puppet to her addict tricks. I have seen and heard them all before.

Again, anger. I jumped out of the car, ran around to the passenger side door. Opened it, grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the car. I closed the door behind her. She leaned against the car.

I jumped back into the driver’s side, locking all the doors. I put down the window a tiny bit and yelled at her that if she loved me to get the hell in there. She started to cry, and wobbled across the parking lot to the main door as I watched from the car.

I will never forget the pressure that was released when she was out of sight, and entered the door. Surprisingly, I don’t think anyone saw this happening. I sat in the parking lot and bawled. I cried all the way home, calling my dad as I got in the door explaining what I did.

Days later, my mother called me, thanking me for saving her. The nurses and counselors told her that she was very close to OD’ìng and that if she had stayed home the odds were she would have died. I had heard that one many times before, but it seemed like no one was willing to take charge to actually help. She returned home after a couple days. Again, she seemed clean for a couple weeks and fell back into the claws of her addiction.

There is no happy ending to this story. I have grown up. My mother is still living but I lost the battle to have my mom back. I have moved away to escape the heartache and struggle that still pains me every day. I had to release her from my life for my own good. She has been dead to me for many years.

I call her once in a while, checking in and telling her how much I love her. She cries and says how much she misses me, how much she loves me. But not even love for her child was strong enough to get through the addiction. I don’t blame her. 

Throughout my high school upgrading at Holland College, I did research on narcotics and methadone. I tried to understand, so I could help her. Or at least release myself from the realization that love was not enough. So if I could say something to the grieving parents, sometimes not even the love you have for your own child is strong enough to overcome addiction.

I would never wish this upon anyone. Even though I do not hold it against my mom, I still am embarrassed and resentful towards not only her, but the healthcare professionals and addiction services people on PEI. There is support for the children of broken homes but no method of help or rehabilitation for the problem that is causing the home to be broken.

Even though my mom is alive, I’ve convinced myself that she will not be around for the milestones in my life, like my wedding or my children. My children will never know my mom and her big heart, and her kindness. My mom will never know them, and spoil them. I love my mom, and even though she’s still alive, I miss her every day.


  1. that's one of the saddest things I have ever read

    1. I know! We need to help people so that they can be good parents to their children. The children want to be with their parents. Let's make the investment in healing families.

  2. This is really a shame. We have to help people.

    1. It broke my heart to read it. We need to do better.

  3. You are an amazing girl my heart goes out to you. As a recovered addict it's stories like this that really hit home. We become so powerless to the drug that we can't even see the we are hurting the people in our lives that prior to addiction we would protect from the gravest of dangers. Your mom loves you but similar to having a gun to her head she has no control of her thoughts heart and actions don't ever blame yourself or question your mom's live for you. As a former addict I went to my family Dr who was the Dr saw me when I was on the road of recovery my parents had me doing regular drug screening and he was the one arranging this. So he was very informed of my past with drugs. I was three years into sobriety when I went and saw him for back pain and I almost lost my mind when he wrote me a prescription for oxycodone 90 pills with three refills and said these will help. I walked out of the office sat in my car and cried the first thing was I wanted them then the second was how could he do this to me how could he give me the means to get high again and ruin my life. I drove around for a good hour getting more and more upset knowing I was a decision away from losing everything I worked so hard to get. I didn't fill that prescription and found the strength to work through a few weeks of back pain and never again would tell any physician that I may have an ache or pain as they throw these drugs around like they are no biggie. They can turn a straight and narrow person into a dependent user in no time. If only your mom was protected better this would have never happened if only the Dr was more interested in solving ailments with non life destroying drugs. Hold your head up and be proud of the woman you are and don't have hate for your mom she is sick and doesn't mean to hurt you and don't give up on her just like all these parents fighting to get their kids clean you to continue the fight don't let addiction rob you of all those milestones this is the time to be selfish and not allow something like drugs steal your mom from you. I'm not calling you out I'm just hoping to re light that fire in you that says not this time addiction you won't beat me I'm going to kick your ass and take my mom back from your grips. Stay strong and proud you are an amazing daughter your story is a inspiration and it's a sign of how great of a person you are

    1. She truly is an amazing person. I can tell from her story. She showed such strength and determination for someone so young. I have no doubt that her mother loves her dearly. As you said, this disease takes hold and everything else comes behind it. Thank you for sharing your experience and excellent advice.

  4. Your story is so similar to mine. I have felt so alone my whole life because there is no help for the children of mothers addicted to "pain pills." It is excruciatingly painful, my heart goes out to you. Fortunately my mom finally made it off her narcotics two years ago this month, as well as her anti-anxieties and anti-depressants! Over the course of her drug use (also for chronic pain), she has been on every narcotic I know of, including methadone, morphine, demerol, etc and combined with her anti-depressants, my mom was stoned out of her mind most of my life. I committed her twice to a program/treatment center in Alberta, where we live. Neither time she wanted to go but always came out grateful I did it. The last time she got off of the rest of her anti-anxieties which can also cause personality changes and drowsiness - especially when doctors are over medicating.
    You did the best thing letting her go. My sister did that with my mom too. I live so close to her, I just couldn't do that but I've paid the price with my own emotional and mental health. Although it all did drive me to fight as hard as I did for her. I needed to save myself as much as I needed to save her. I sometimes can't believe I am where I am considering what I have been through. Thank you for sharing your story.
    Be gentle with yourself and be the mother to yourself that you wish she had been to you. May God bless you with peace.

    1. Thank you so much for visiting my blog and commenting! I am sorry to hear that your family was affected by addiction as well. I will be sure to let her know that you left a comment so that she can read your kind words. Thank you!


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