Growing up, I was, unfortunately, exposed to the harsh realities of addiction from a young age. My mom was a drug addict and when she stopped paying the rent on our apartment, we became homeless. We lived out of hotels and bounced from place to place throughout my school years.
I did not have stability, and as I was being raised by a drug addict, I grew up with addict tendencies. I was doing drugs, going out and experiencing so many things that I should not have been doing in my formative years. I was around addiction my whole life, so as I was trying to develop my own identity, I just became the same thing my mother was.
In 2018, when I was 14 years old, my mother took her life and I subsequently spiraled out of control. I often found myself looking back through old text messages from my mom. Two months before she committed suicide, my mom sent me a whole paragraph about how she blamed me for wanting to take her life.
She said that I ruined her life and everything bad that happened to her was my fault. Of course, I thought it was all my fault because I had actual proof that my mom blamed me too. My life spiraled out of control because I did everything I possibly could to run away from my problems and to numb myself.
I was drinking and smoking excessively and taking prescription pills as a teenager. Already, I was allowing the addiction to take over my life and getting high felt natural, like instinct. On April 23, 2020, I was with family at my nephew’s birthday party.
I had taken a couple of prescription pills and was drinking heavily. I was not in control of my emotions, and I felt angry. I thought everybody was being so selfish because I was still trying to process my mom’s suicide and being happy did not seem right.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
