Dear Addiction

Years ago, you took my mother from me. The only person who knew me. The only person who loved me unconditionally, no matter my sexual orientation or the choices I made in life. She used to be such a strong and beautiful person. My mother was, undoubtedly, my one and only role model. She sang to me, even though she knew she was no good at it. She knew it made me feel comforted. She was my rock. The person I went to for advice. The one I wanted to hold at the end of a tough day at school. But one day... She just disappeared; fading into a woman full of rage and hatred. Do you understand the pain you have caused?

At 10 years old, I witnessed my mother's first overdose. She laid lifeless on the cold tile that was wet from frothing at the mouth. As many times as I tried to shake her, my mother wouldn't move. As I picked up the phone to call an ambulance, her glossy eyes opened up just a bit when she told me she was sorry. The ambulance came and went in the night, and my brothers and I were left alone to pick up the pieces. At 10 years old, I knew my mother had been lost to you, Addiction. No one knows much about what conditions I was living in. For more than 4 years I was physically abused by my mother. 4 years. That's 1460 days of hell. Her favorite items to use were as follows... Belt, wooden spoon, plastic spatula, and her shoes. Addiction, you might be wondering if I'm getting “spanking” confused with “abuse.” Parents spank their kids when they don't listen, act up, things of that nature. My mother was so lost in you, Addiction, that when she hit me, she didn't stop. Over and over. Lash after lash. Welts, bruises, knots... All over my back, my arms, my legs. Addiction, YOU caused this. YOU made her this way.

At 14 years old, Addiction, you got much much worse for my mother. She spent days upon days awake with strange men and women coming and going. At this point, she was lost... Far away at sea was her soul, I used to dream. But there she was, my mother, standing in front of me; lost in you, Addiction. There were many nights I picked my mother up from the floor. Many nights where she would scream at me for no reason. My mother was lost in you so very badly, Addiction, she made me believe there were bad people spying on us. In our ceiling, in our closets, cameras in the bathroom. All the while, the abuse continues. Addiction, you are the worst kind of hell anyone can imagine.

At 18 years old, I no longer knew my mother at all. She was so deeply in love with you, Addiction, that she forgot all about me. No phone calls just to say I love you, no family dinners, no hugs that meant something special. The only thing I received from my mother, because of YOU, Addiction... were phone calls asking for money. I have spent so many nights crying, praying to a god I don't believe in. Just PLEASE please bring my mother back from that evil hatred. Please let her be the loving, funny, charismatic mother I once knew. It has yet to happen.

I am now 23 years old, living my life having not talked with my mother in over a year. Because of YOU, Addiction. Because of you, I am motherless. Because of you, I don't have the love and tender care I always needed and wanted. Because of you, I have spent so many nights crying and abusing myself to relieve the pain. Because of you, my childhood was ripped from me. Because of you, I stand a stronger person. Because of you, I am still fighting.