I Worked Hard To Learn Sobriety Tools

I was determined to follow the court’s requirements and try to stay clean so I could get my baby back. But when I first landed in a court of law these programs were not offered to me. I struggled to find a decent job. To find a place to live. As if I wasn’t low enough already, I remember one day in particular that shoved the depths of my despair even deeper. I discovered that I had head lice. Dear friends and loved ones who know me today know I wear my hair long, and I love styling my hair. I shudder as I remember the shame I felt the day I had to ask my mom to help me treat head lice. On a visiting day, I mustered up enough courage to be vulnerable, and I asked my mother if she could help me treat the lice. I felt rejected by my mother. Seeing him, holding him, feeling his sweet kisses was the only thing that kept me going! Another three weeks without the feel of my baby in my arms felt like a death sentence. My thought was, You can’t see your baby anyway, so why not numb the pain? Remember, I was still lacking any real recovery principles, so I listened to that voice.

Another Part Of Me

After that, I relapsed several times. I was still determined to beat this thing somehow, but I just didn’t have the tools. The date of the final custody hearing came. I remember thinking I at least had a chance to get my son back, because I had made some strides to do what the judge had said. I was fooling myself. I had a lot more work to do. I remember walking into the courthouse that day feeling as though my body was literally vibrating because of the fear and anxiety. It took every ounce of courage I could muster to walk in that courthouse and face the outcome. I went back downstairs and was told there were no hearings in that section of the courthouse that day. I was advised to call my attorney. I called my lawyer and to my astonishment, he told me the hearing had happened two days earlier. I sent you a letter so you should have known, and because you didn’t show up the judge automatically awarded permanent custody to your parents.

Withdraw With Merciless Aloofness.

And that in only a short period of time, because I worked hard to learn sobriety tools and apply them, I was given custody of my son back. But that’s not how my story goes. In that moment when I learned I’d lost custody of my son, for good this time, my soul withered and died. The pain and suffering of disappointing myself, my family, and my child overcame me. I went from a struggling addict to a committed junkie. The last lingering glimpse of hope I felt faded away. I felt like my reason to overcome my addiction was gone. I felt I had nothing, and that I was nothing. So why not love nothing? I did then what even as an addict I had once thought was unthinkable. I picked up the needle. Something I’d resisted and even detested. That meant you had crossed a line.

Adjusting Tirelessly

That you’d given up. Descended to the lowest of low points. And for many that was the point of no return. The day after I first shot up I made a decision to embrace the darkness. I put as much meth up my arm as I possibly could, not caring if I lived or died. Thankfully, the day came when police found me in a car full of drugs, guns, stolen checks, needles, and drugs. They handcuffed me and hauled me to jail. It included incarceration, treatment, and recovery. I was placed in a treatment program for mothers and children. Although I didn’t have my child there, I learned that I had courage, strength, hope, and possibility. I learned life skills that to this day are like precious jewels, and I wear them with pride! He showed me the only way to get my baby back was to believe I could become the mother he deserved. There were pieces in treatment I struggled to glue in place. At graduation my counselor Anne told me that in the beginning she was convinced I was one of the ones who would not make it. I had a lifetime of pain and issues that had led me to the start of my addiction, and each piece had to be exposed and examined and properly repaired. Uncovering these issues, at times, petrified me. But I combined the counsel of professionals with sheer determination, and I applied the recovery principles I was learning in treatment. Each day, a new light emerged. This life transformation didn’t happen overnight. I can’t identify just one moment of change, but rather hundreds of thousands of tiny moments. There were also many moments when I wanted to run where no one could find me, because facing the hurt and forcing myself to grow seemed so much harder than forgiving, loving, accepting, and growing. I had made the decision that even if I never got custody of my son back, I would be the kind of mother he deserved. I wanted to be a mother he could be proud of, even if I only ever saw him one day a week. I pressed on in this journey. They helped me believe in me when I didn’t believe in myself. I’m living, walking, breathing proof that anyone can overcome the grips of addiction, and can create an amazing and wonderful life, if they are persistent. I write these words, I not only have custody of that little boy, who just turned 17, but I also have another amazing son. I have a wonderful, devoted, family man of a husband who treats me like his equal and his queen. I have attended college and I’ve become a certified substance abuse counselor.