As everyone knows today is Valentine's Day. I have seen 27 of these holidays and only one really sticks out in my head. This one Valentine's Day changed and saved my life and also my brother's. It was 15 years ago today that my brother and I were removed from my mother's care. In order to understand what happened you have to go back about 18 years when my mother sent us away to my grandparents. My mother was struggling with her addiction and had reached a breaking point. She was 23 years old, had two children to take care of and an addiction that wouldn't let her.
My brother and I lived with my grandparents for a year. It was during this year that I met one of my mother's stepbrothers. My grandfather is actually my mother's stepfather but he has always and will always be my grandpa. He was married before my grandmother and had two sons with his first wife. They were both younger than my mother but only by a few years. While living with my grandparents my 18 year old uncle would watch my brother and I while my grandparents worked. Because he spent a great deal of time at our house I eventually met his mother, R. She started taking me to church and would take me to do fun things like going to the lake or to lunch. My grandparents worked long hours and didn't often do those sorts of things with us and my mother never did those things with me so I really enjoyed it. This is not to say that my grandparents never spent time with us. We did a lot of things at home. My grandma is an avid reader and encouraged me in that. My grandpa loves movies and passed that love on to me.
After living with my grandparents for about a year my mother called to say she was coming to get us and take us home. She did this every few months. The first time I packed my brother and I up and sat outside all day and waited. The second time I packed just in case but went out to play with the neighbor kids. The third time I didn't even believe or care if she came. This time however, it sounded like she was really one her way. My grandma came and pulled me out of school. We went to the pizza place my grandpa was the manager of and had lunch with my uncle and his mom. After lunch we all headed to my grandparents home. Shortly there after my mother pulled into the driveway. My brother and I were so shocked and happy to see her there. It was during the loading up of our things that my mother met my grandpa's first wife R. They chatted and exchanged information so that R could keep up with what my brother and I were up too.
Things were fine for a while with my mother. She got us a place of our own. I was going to school every day and there was food in the house. Sadly all good things must come to an end. All too soon things went from good to horrifying. My mother lost herself to her addiction again. The one good thing that remained was our contact with R and her husband S. They would sometimes make the three hour trip to see us or even bring us back home with them for a three day weekend. During the summer we spent 2 weeks there. I would spend a week at youth camp and my brother would have all sorts of different things going on. It was so awesome to discover a life outside of my mother's addiction. R and S would also help us with food. They must of spent hundreds in Safeway gifts certificates and at Costco. Right before I started 6th grade R and S offered to pay for me to go to a private school. The one condition was that I went to school every day and that my mother would make sure I got there. My brother started kindergarten that year as well and went to the private school with me. I didn't really like the school. The classes were small so I couldn't fade into the background. We did ok for a few months and then things just kind of went down hill. By the time February rolled around my brother and I had missed three weeks of school. The school decided to call R and S since they couldn't get a hold of my mother. R drove three hours to see what going on. My brother and I had been staying at the neighbors for a week. Our house had no power, water or food. R came by herself and stopped by the house. I didn't know she was in town until I watched her drive away. I told my mother that I saw R drive away. I'm not sure how long it was but R came back. My mother went and told her where we were staying. I don't remember talking to R but I remember she and mother had a very long talk I couldn't be a part of.
After they were done talking R went home. My mother refused to tell my what they talked about but I was worried and kind of excited. I had a secret hope that R was someday going to see how awful things were for us and take us to live with her and S. I wanted a normal life so much. After three days, on Valentine's Day, of trying to get my mother to talk R showed back up but this time she had S with her. It was then that my mother explained that we were going to live with them for a while. It was my dream come true and yet I was crushed. My mother had known for three days that we were leaving and didn't tell us. We weren't packed or anything. I had no idea how long we were going to be seperated. My brother and I were heartbroken. Everyone assured us it was temporary and that we would be reunited in no time.
So off we went. We started a new school and tried to get used to a new normal. It was harder for me. I went from being the parent to being the child. I never got used to it. For a while my brother and I held out hope that our mother was coming home. The first year or so we saw her every few months . Then she went to a rehab place in Southern California. The plan was she would go down there, get clean, get a job and save money then come home and raise her kids. She never did. At first we held out hope and then one by one we all lost it. I'll never forget the summer I spent a week as a camp counselor at the same camp my brother went to. One night around the camp fire my brother started to cry. I rushed to him and asked what was wrong. He said he missed our mother and wished she would just come home. He was about 11 when this happened and I have not seen him shed a tear for her since.
While it sucks that my mother chose her addiction over her children at least we had a good life after all. We had two responsible adults in our life that encouraged us to be the best we could be and hold us accountable when we weren't. I will always be greatful to them for taking us in and loving us like their own. Every Valentine's Day, while the world celebrates romantic love, I celebrate a different kind of love. A love that reached out and saved two children from a dark future.
Taya
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Friday, February 8, 2013
Hope and Fear Don't Mix Well
Can't sleep. Both my husband and daughter fell asleep about an hour and a half ago. I am completely wired. As much as I want to sleep I can't get my mother off my mind. We started communicating via text messaging the other day. It started out innocent enough, just small talk about the weather and what we have been up to. She apologized for her actions a few months ago and I went ahead and forgave her. This is a dance we do every other year: she gets mad at herself but takes it out on me, doesn't talk to me for months and then reaches out to me looking for forgiveness. I admit that I forgive her too easily but she is my mother and I can't stop from wanting her in my life. Which brings me to why I am not sleeping...
While talking to her today she expressed that she wanted out of the life she was living. That she was tired of it. She explained that she wasn't drinking as much or using drugs like she used to. She admitted that she was a bad parent and that she will live with that knowlege everyday. I told her that we(her family) still loved her and just wanted her to overcome her addiction. That she could still be a part of our lives. I reassured her that we all wanted her to come home. She seemed surprised that I included her mother in this statement. My mother and my grandmother have a strained relationship. My grandmother has expressed on numerous occasions that she wishes she could have done something to prevent my mother from succumbing to addiction. My grandmother suffers from her own addiction but not in the same ways as my mother. During my conversation with my mother she tried to pull my grandmother's problems into it but I chose to ignore her attempts. We were talking about her, not my grandmother. I asked my mother if she would go to treatment if I found a place here in my hometown. She didn't say yes or no but asked what kind of treatment. I honestly didn't have any idea where we would be able to send her so I said I would do some research. I was able to find a treatment center that would work with my mother on a financial plan. They offer a sliding scale depending on your income and also offer the chance to apply for grants to cover treatment.
Finding a treatment center that would work with my mother was the easy part. Now I need to figure out where she would live until a residential bed opened up. I will not let my mother live with me. I have to protect my family and she is so unpredictable. I know no one else in the family can or will take her in. I put in a call to a friend at the Salvation Army to see what low income housing was available. I'm still waiting to talk to her but I know she will have some good ideas. She was friends with my mother when they were in school and remembers me when I was a baby. Hopefully she can help me out with the housing situation. I could always take my mother to a shelter but they only allow one month stays and who knows how long it will take for a resident bed to open up.
Getting my mother here won't be a problem either. My husband and I are getting our taxes soon and will be able to cover the bus ticket. My brother even said he could chip in.
With all these things sort of falling into place I still find myself detached from the whole thing. I feel as if I am helping a friend of a friend. It's hard to describe being so happy about something yet so fearful of it at the same time. I called my brother and got some input from him. After all he has as much say in whether she is welcome or not. He was able to give me some good insight. He supports the decision to try to help our mother but also feels the same detachment I do. The idea of our mother being so close is alien to us. On Valentine's Day it will be 15 years since she gave us up. It's been almost 12 years since we have laid eyes on her. My brother and I both agree that boundries and rules need to be set up. While she is our mother she has never really acted like it. We don't want to put ourselves in a situation where are hopes are high and then they are dashed. That has happened to us one too many times. I never want to see the pain in my brother's eyes because we gave our mother another chance and she blew it. We both agree that only time will tell if she is serious. My husband also supports us in this. He knows how much it would mean to me to have my mother clean and sober but he too is cautious. He has never met my mother but has heard enough from me.
I also need to talk to my family, my grandparents and my adopted parents. They have a right to know what is going on. I feel bad that they might be reading about it here. *If you are just know I do plan on talking to you in person to expalin in greater detail.* I know my family will be just as cautious if not more so than my brother and I. My mother has done a lot of damage that won't be easily repaired but getting help for her addiction is a step in the right direction. I hope my family will get behind me on this. The more people my mother has in her support system the greater her chances will be. I don't think my mother realizes how many people she will have to help her and support her emotionally through this. I know many people in recovery who would be more than happy to help.
I have yet to tell my mother all of this. I don't want to offer this to her until all the details are hammered out. I want to have a firm list of boundries and rules for our relationship established. I'm going to stress that this opprotunity should only be taken if she is serious and wants to change her life. If she is coming up here just so she can be near us but continue her lifestyle I won't be able to have a relationship with her. I don't want my daughter exposed to the way my mother lives.
My head is such a mess right now. Hopefully I can get to sleep soon and wake up with a fresh perspective. Maybe the confusion will be gone.
Taya
While talking to her today she expressed that she wanted out of the life she was living. That she was tired of it. She explained that she wasn't drinking as much or using drugs like she used to. She admitted that she was a bad parent and that she will live with that knowlege everyday. I told her that we(her family) still loved her and just wanted her to overcome her addiction. That she could still be a part of our lives. I reassured her that we all wanted her to come home. She seemed surprised that I included her mother in this statement. My mother and my grandmother have a strained relationship. My grandmother has expressed on numerous occasions that she wishes she could have done something to prevent my mother from succumbing to addiction. My grandmother suffers from her own addiction but not in the same ways as my mother. During my conversation with my mother she tried to pull my grandmother's problems into it but I chose to ignore her attempts. We were talking about her, not my grandmother. I asked my mother if she would go to treatment if I found a place here in my hometown. She didn't say yes or no but asked what kind of treatment. I honestly didn't have any idea where we would be able to send her so I said I would do some research. I was able to find a treatment center that would work with my mother on a financial plan. They offer a sliding scale depending on your income and also offer the chance to apply for grants to cover treatment.
Finding a treatment center that would work with my mother was the easy part. Now I need to figure out where she would live until a residential bed opened up. I will not let my mother live with me. I have to protect my family and she is so unpredictable. I know no one else in the family can or will take her in. I put in a call to a friend at the Salvation Army to see what low income housing was available. I'm still waiting to talk to her but I know she will have some good ideas. She was friends with my mother when they were in school and remembers me when I was a baby. Hopefully she can help me out with the housing situation. I could always take my mother to a shelter but they only allow one month stays and who knows how long it will take for a resident bed to open up.
Getting my mother here won't be a problem either. My husband and I are getting our taxes soon and will be able to cover the bus ticket. My brother even said he could chip in.
With all these things sort of falling into place I still find myself detached from the whole thing. I feel as if I am helping a friend of a friend. It's hard to describe being so happy about something yet so fearful of it at the same time. I called my brother and got some input from him. After all he has as much say in whether she is welcome or not. He was able to give me some good insight. He supports the decision to try to help our mother but also feels the same detachment I do. The idea of our mother being so close is alien to us. On Valentine's Day it will be 15 years since she gave us up. It's been almost 12 years since we have laid eyes on her. My brother and I both agree that boundries and rules need to be set up. While she is our mother she has never really acted like it. We don't want to put ourselves in a situation where are hopes are high and then they are dashed. That has happened to us one too many times. I never want to see the pain in my brother's eyes because we gave our mother another chance and she blew it. We both agree that only time will tell if she is serious. My husband also supports us in this. He knows how much it would mean to me to have my mother clean and sober but he too is cautious. He has never met my mother but has heard enough from me.
I also need to talk to my family, my grandparents and my adopted parents. They have a right to know what is going on. I feel bad that they might be reading about it here. *If you are just know I do plan on talking to you in person to expalin in greater detail.* I know my family will be just as cautious if not more so than my brother and I. My mother has done a lot of damage that won't be easily repaired but getting help for her addiction is a step in the right direction. I hope my family will get behind me on this. The more people my mother has in her support system the greater her chances will be. I don't think my mother realizes how many people she will have to help her and support her emotionally through this. I know many people in recovery who would be more than happy to help.
I have yet to tell my mother all of this. I don't want to offer this to her until all the details are hammered out. I want to have a firm list of boundries and rules for our relationship established. I'm going to stress that this opprotunity should only be taken if she is serious and wants to change her life. If she is coming up here just so she can be near us but continue her lifestyle I won't be able to have a relationship with her. I don't want my daughter exposed to the way my mother lives.
My head is such a mess right now. Hopefully I can get to sleep soon and wake up with a fresh perspective. Maybe the confusion will be gone.
Taya
Thursday, February 7, 2013
My Brother, My Best Friend
My brother and I have lived through some pretty tramatic events due to our mother's addiction. We were soldiers against the world for most of his early childhood. Even to this day he is one of my best friends and I hate to think what I would turn into if I didn't have him in my life. Even with all this love our relationship didn't start out so great.
I don't exactly remember when my mother told me she was pregnant with my brother. I just kind of knew she was pregnant and was secretly hoping for a sister. At five years old I still remembered my little sister that my mother had given up for adoption. I was angry with my mother about it because I wanted my little sister. So when I learned that my mother was pregnant again I was hoping and wishing for a second chance with a new sister. I remember my disapointment when I learned that my mother was having a boy. She did her best to have me involved as much as possible. I even got to pick his name. My brother was born the day before Halloween. I remember his "father" waking me up in the middle of the night to tell me I had a new brother. I didn't care. As far as I was concerned this new brother was not going to replace the sister I wanted and I was so mad that my mother had a boy. My brother wasn't even 24 hours old when we took him trick or treating the first time. There was a harvest festival at my school that I had been looking forward to so my mother took us there.
Looking back I can honestly say I was jealous of my new brother. While I had to stay in the main house on the property, he got to stay with our mother in the apartment. I only saw my mother before and after school. She didn't put me to bed or help with homework. I felt like this new baby was taking what little time I had with my mother away. Over time though my feelings for him turned and I grew to love his chubby little face. He was such a happy and social baby. He loved being around people and making them laugh. Everyone loved him. When he was about a year old my mother and his "father" broke up. We moved a few different times but I can't make heads or tales of what those situations were like.
When my brother was two my mother got a new boyfriend. This man scared us all. He was a big, loud man prone to violent outbursts. He got my mother hooked on drugs and would beat her frequently. I will never forget the day my brother had had enough. My mother's boyfriend had her on the couch and was hitting her. I had hid with my brother in the bedroom and watched through a crack in the door. My mother must have screamed louder than normal or something because the next thing I knew the bedroom door flew open and my brother took off. I remember seeing my brother launch his little body, clad only in a diaper, off the floor at the man's face. This two year old little boy forgot he was just a toddler and was intent on ripping the man's face off for hurting our mother. I stood frozen in the doorway as I watch this man grab my brother and throw him on the other couch. At that point I ran to the couch and grabbed him. My mother at this point got very angry. It was one thing to beat on her but you didn't beat on her kids. She flew into a rage and managed to get the man out of our house. It was some time after this that my brother and I were sent to live with my mother's mom and step dad. We lived with them for about a year. During that time my brother was finally potty trained and learned how to talk.
After living with my grandparents my mother came back for us. We went back to our hometown and tried to start over. Things were good for about six months. During that time my mother was not using drugs although she did drink. I went to school and didn't have to worry about what was happening to my brother. That all changed when our mother started using meth again. I tried my best to make sure my brother came with me when I went out with friends. It was hard considering he was four years old and my friends were all older than me. I had finally had it with my mother's treatment of my brother when she decided to shelter some men who were running from the cops. They stayed at our house for about a week. One day I decided to go to the store and I left my brother with our mother. I still regret it. While I was gone the cops raided the house and my baby brother had to witness it. Guns had been drawn and put in people's faces. I will never forget the look on my brother's face when I got home. He looked so scared and he had lost some of his innocence. It was after this event that I stopped going to school. Well that was part of it. We all had really bad cases of lice that my mother never took care of. Because of that I couldn't really go to school. The nurses at school would check my head and just send me home. At 11 years old and in fifth grade I dropped out. My brother could not be left alone with my mother.
While my brother and I are closer than most siblings we still fought like all siblings. We fought over what to watch on tv, who had the most candy but mostly we fought for our mother's attention. It was no contest really. My mother didn't see me as her daughter but as her friend. My brother was her baby and she favored him as much as an addict can. While I took the brunt of the physical and verbal abuse he didn't escape it. When our mother was so lost in her addiction nothing else mattered.
My brother and I still fight but it's mostly about when I get to see him. He has his own life with a job, a wife and friends. I messed our relationship up when I moved away to follow my own addictions. No matter what though we have always tried to be supportive of one another. He is the reason for this blog. When I told him what I wanted to do he backed me 100%. He has been there for me when I needed him most even if I couldn't do the same for him. He grew up to be such a good man. He still is young and finding his way. I can't believe that I wanted a sister. I have been blessed with the most amazing brother ever.
Taya
P.S. Don't forget to like The Addict's Child on Facebook.
I don't exactly remember when my mother told me she was pregnant with my brother. I just kind of knew she was pregnant and was secretly hoping for a sister. At five years old I still remembered my little sister that my mother had given up for adoption. I was angry with my mother about it because I wanted my little sister. So when I learned that my mother was pregnant again I was hoping and wishing for a second chance with a new sister. I remember my disapointment when I learned that my mother was having a boy. She did her best to have me involved as much as possible. I even got to pick his name. My brother was born the day before Halloween. I remember his "father" waking me up in the middle of the night to tell me I had a new brother. I didn't care. As far as I was concerned this new brother was not going to replace the sister I wanted and I was so mad that my mother had a boy. My brother wasn't even 24 hours old when we took him trick or treating the first time. There was a harvest festival at my school that I had been looking forward to so my mother took us there.
Looking back I can honestly say I was jealous of my new brother. While I had to stay in the main house on the property, he got to stay with our mother in the apartment. I only saw my mother before and after school. She didn't put me to bed or help with homework. I felt like this new baby was taking what little time I had with my mother away. Over time though my feelings for him turned and I grew to love his chubby little face. He was such a happy and social baby. He loved being around people and making them laugh. Everyone loved him. When he was about a year old my mother and his "father" broke up. We moved a few different times but I can't make heads or tales of what those situations were like.
When my brother was two my mother got a new boyfriend. This man scared us all. He was a big, loud man prone to violent outbursts. He got my mother hooked on drugs and would beat her frequently. I will never forget the day my brother had had enough. My mother's boyfriend had her on the couch and was hitting her. I had hid with my brother in the bedroom and watched through a crack in the door. My mother must have screamed louder than normal or something because the next thing I knew the bedroom door flew open and my brother took off. I remember seeing my brother launch his little body, clad only in a diaper, off the floor at the man's face. This two year old little boy forgot he was just a toddler and was intent on ripping the man's face off for hurting our mother. I stood frozen in the doorway as I watch this man grab my brother and throw him on the other couch. At that point I ran to the couch and grabbed him. My mother at this point got very angry. It was one thing to beat on her but you didn't beat on her kids. She flew into a rage and managed to get the man out of our house. It was some time after this that my brother and I were sent to live with my mother's mom and step dad. We lived with them for about a year. During that time my brother was finally potty trained and learned how to talk.
After living with my grandparents my mother came back for us. We went back to our hometown and tried to start over. Things were good for about six months. During that time my mother was not using drugs although she did drink. I went to school and didn't have to worry about what was happening to my brother. That all changed when our mother started using meth again. I tried my best to make sure my brother came with me when I went out with friends. It was hard considering he was four years old and my friends were all older than me. I had finally had it with my mother's treatment of my brother when she decided to shelter some men who were running from the cops. They stayed at our house for about a week. One day I decided to go to the store and I left my brother with our mother. I still regret it. While I was gone the cops raided the house and my baby brother had to witness it. Guns had been drawn and put in people's faces. I will never forget the look on my brother's face when I got home. He looked so scared and he had lost some of his innocence. It was after this event that I stopped going to school. Well that was part of it. We all had really bad cases of lice that my mother never took care of. Because of that I couldn't really go to school. The nurses at school would check my head and just send me home. At 11 years old and in fifth grade I dropped out. My brother could not be left alone with my mother.
While my brother and I are closer than most siblings we still fought like all siblings. We fought over what to watch on tv, who had the most candy but mostly we fought for our mother's attention. It was no contest really. My mother didn't see me as her daughter but as her friend. My brother was her baby and she favored him as much as an addict can. While I took the brunt of the physical and verbal abuse he didn't escape it. When our mother was so lost in her addiction nothing else mattered.
My brother and I still fight but it's mostly about when I get to see him. He has his own life with a job, a wife and friends. I messed our relationship up when I moved away to follow my own addictions. No matter what though we have always tried to be supportive of one another. He is the reason for this blog. When I told him what I wanted to do he backed me 100%. He has been there for me when I needed him most even if I couldn't do the same for him. He grew up to be such a good man. He still is young and finding his way. I can't believe that I wanted a sister. I have been blessed with the most amazing brother ever.
Taya
P.S. Don't forget to like The Addict's Child on Facebook.
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