He is staring at me with those eyes, I look back. The gaze does not leave me. I can see him crying, so innocent, so paralyzed. He demands my attention very aware that he will not get it. My heart melts, I am so weak, I embrace him but all of a sudden I am back to my wilderness: selfish again and behaving like a teenager. Will I ever be a good mother to him?
I try to be good for one week but the next three weeks I cannot be there for him. My teenage son is wounded, experiencing the pain of being born of a addict single mother who has never fully accepted her motherhood. He has sworn to never walk the life his mother is walking, and that is what he told me today – the pain of a mother who is trying to be.
I blame the drugs which have been my companions for years. Peer pressure led me into it. Who will rescue me from this dungeon? News of my pregnancy gave me joy, short lived joy. I wanted to be a mother and the same time I knew I would never be a full time mother; drugs would always have a special place in my life.
I make good plans which I never implement, I try to put things in place only to fall twice as the rise. The doctor said my health is at stake; I have been chained to this hospital bed till my body is rid of those toxic substances. This is a decision I made to cleanse my body but I do not know if I will hold into it till the end.
I do not deserve this physical and psychological torture, but wait, I have to make a choice – of life or death, drugs or my son!
#Diary of a frustrated addict mother.
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