Addict. At times I still cannot say it aloud without feeling that pang of guilt. There are those moms who seem to have it all together. Soccer practice, PTA meetings, baking, being beautiful. Me? I may appear that way at times, but I assure you, my ducks have many times (and usually are) just wandering around, paddling into nothing.
The guilt: Just thinking about how much I absolutely love and adore my sons, it seems impossible that I ever allowed alcohol to gain such a stronghold on me that it quite literally ripped my world apart. More than once. But alas, here we are. It is literally a disease. How do you know? Well, once you put it in your body, your brain switches to survival mode. It’s as if something terrible will happen if you stop. It doesn’t let you stop until you are forced. I am here to tell you. It truly f*%#ing sucks.
I cannot say when the actual “addiction” began, all I can tell you is that one minute I am welcoming my firstborn, beautiful baby boy into the world, and the next thing I know, I am involved with CPS for going to pick up my son from kindergarten under the influence.
Next child: CPS for passing out from drinking while he is in my care.
Child three: Once again, in the middle of a case (currently) because guess why? Ding ding! Our old friend alcohol. Fighting with baby daddy.
I am sharing this because I don’t want to feel alone, and if there is a mom out there that I might reach, to let them know they aren’t alone, then I have made a difference. That is important. It’s important for my recovery, and for my general empath needs… (We will get into that later)
So far, they have temporarily placed my sweet baby boy with his paternal grandma, and I am allowed to see him at a minimum 3 times a week. I am supposed to be doing a substance abuse evaluation to see what level of outpatient treatment I will need. This is not my first rodeo, but this time it is different. I had an actual vision, an “awakening” if you will. I was so totally sober, then when the damn bottle was placed in my face, it all splintered like a car window that was punched but didn’t break all the way through. My friend and therapist (not mine) called it “not a relapse, but a recurrence.” I like that.
So, if you want to join me on my journey, feel free. I will remember what said friend told me as well: “Abracadabra. What I speak, becomes.”
Next court date is 8/22…Let’s speak some good things into existence. Abracadabra.
To be continued…
-Angela


i am also a proud mama, my sons are 2 years old next month, and 2.5 months old. I am in residential treatment battling my addiction to meth and heroin, and I love where I am today! 60 days clean! I have my baby here with me ro keep me motivated, but I only see my 2 year old 2-3x a week
but it IS something, right?? I am also DHS/CPS involved, but I try to look at it as a resource for opportunities for help i need, that i didn’t have access to before, you know? I hope that helps you with your feelings of guilt. We are only human. It WILL get better, with hard work, we just need to remember who’s important: those babies, and ourselves!! YOU CAN DO THIS ANGELA, IM HERE TO CHEER YOU ON MAMA!!!




That’s helpful 





