The price of methamphetamine is hell, a hell that has a long way down. A reality of horrible deprivation and consequences to the user and their loved ones. This became my hell as a mother, and a grandmother, powerless to make a difference.
My way of dealing with this is controversial in the eyes of some, particularly if they do not know me, or are not sufficiently able to appreciate my intent. I got reminded I was here to live my life- not my daughter’s. Nothing I was doing was supporting change as things stood, and the system was too large and too vulnerable a choice for me to make. I chose to trust life and am now on a journey that looks at my choices and patterns of behaviour and my conditioning from the past. I came to accept that much of my behaviour didn’t serve to create healthy relationships in life with others, let alone a family member in active addiction.
Some of my behaviours I unquestionably recognise as obsessive and addictive. These behaviours may have served me once in order to survive unsafe times, but no longer serve me now as an adult. Such realisation is humbling, just as coming to terms with the fact that ultimately the only person I can change is me. I continually have to draw deep for courage.
There are my grandchildren involved and my decision to live my life often feels as if it clashes fundamentally with my natural mothering instincts. Others in society perhaps consider that an intervention of some kind should have taken place - if only it was that easy. We must be careful not to judge in this. There is an unimaginable jungle of pain and danger with deep fear and sorrow on both sides of this story. No other members of my family have felt able to back me due to their own sorrows and fears, not to mention the denial they’ve felt when confronted by their own addictive using. The system has also left me feeling vulnerable, with a response I question. Finally I walked away.
I was sick of being subjected to fear and intimidation. I withdrew lovingly, announcing that my door was always open for honesty and healing, no matter how hard or horrible that journey towards getting clean may look. There will be no judgment on my part - I welcome the journey back to life and light.
Fundamental to holding myself together through this journey has been the continued support of my local CADs friends and family support group. I turn up practically every week to share in a commonality and camaraderie that surely can only be found under such circumstances.
I live one day at a time, and when I don’t get lost in my fearful thoughts of things beyond my control, life becomes truly worth living. However, it does take courage- deep courage and commitment with a willingness to be self-reflective in order to set a new and stable foundation for healing and moving forward.
Kia Kaha.