Where was I? Frantically driving around the streets of Detroit, trying to find you, with tears streaming down my face, fear in my stomach, yet determination in my heart.
Just like other parents of addicts, we had a front-row seat to your destruction.
Where was I? When you came to me in tears, saying that you had become addicted to heroin and didn’t know how to stop. We cried together, me rocking you in my arms again, promising you that we will get through this together.
Where was I? When we searched for rehabs together, my head whirling that this was even reality, my sole focus on saving you, as you were in the bathroom vomiting from withdrawals.
Where was I? For the next 10 years, I was by my daughter’s side, never giving up on her, riding the roller coaster of addiction that practically tore our family apart. 20 rehabs, detoxes, psych stays, 4 different states, countless overdoses, sleepless nights, jail stays, etc. As a parent, when your child is sick with a disease, you never give up.
That’s where I was. Go ahead. Judge me.
This article originally appeared at A Mother’s Addiction Journey.
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