A Daughters Breaking Heart

For as long as I can remember my mother has struggled with an immense amount of pain.

Because of this, for most of my life she has been addicted to Vicodin and other painkillers. 

Sometimes it’s even hard to make it through the week without her needing to have a glass of wine. And she’s a lightweight, so she could get flat out drunk with one and a half.

My mom had a terrible childhood, her mother wasn’t good at keeping a stable home. 

Two summers ago I was in my room and I heard my mom crying in the living room, drunk, talking about her dad. 

My dad was trying to comfort her, yes, but this wasn’t the first time it had happened and it gets on his nerves that she medicates with substances.

I’ve had to tell her multiple times that she doesn’t need to drink. And that I don’t know what to do when she gets like this. 

When I got back from Massachusetts she had an episode. I don’t remember what had happened, but she ended up calling her doctor to find a place that would help her get weened off of the Vicodin. It would have been 48 hours long so she would have had to stay. Her and my dad got in the car and left, and then no more than five minutes later they were pulling back into the drive way. She couldn’t go. She decided that she was going to try something else.

I remember in high school, my senior year, we had moved an hour away from my high school and I had to go on independent studies to take care of her after her knee replacement. She had Vicodin to help with the pain, and I had to give them to her. I was the designated pharmacist when my dad was gone because we couldn’t trust her with them.

I also remember when she had finally gotten off of them my summer home after freshmen year, and I had gotten my wisdom teeth out. The doctor was going to give me a prescription for Vicodin to help with my pain, I had to tell her no in front of my mother because I didn’t want it in my house. I took the Motrin. 

All of my life my mother has struggled. And it’s breaking my heart. I’m not saying that I don’t want to help, but no daughter should have to help her parent with their addictions. 

I’ve wanted God to heal my mom for so long. But I think my mom just needs to see that He can.

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