Thank you for sharing. Helping others by putting your pain out there, making yourself vulnerable, publicly, to help others, has got to be one of the hardest things to do, and you do it creatively and powerfully. God bless you, your family, and everyone that reads this.
Thank you. Even though it’s sometimes hard to write about my life, it helps me to feel stronger and more connected to share these stories. Thanks for reading!
Bless you for sharing your heart and allowing words to heal your soul. My daughter also struggled with a meth addiction. She's been sober for a year now and I am so grateful for everyday. Her addiction rocked my world but as we slowly grow back together, things feel hopeful and much brighter. Baby steps.
Thank you for sharing some of your story with me. I'm so glad to hear that your daughter is sober now. What a relief. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. My heart aches for you. It's always been so hard with my mother. I can only imagine how devastating it must be with your own child. I worry about my son every day. I hope he doesn't follow in her footsteps. I honestly don't know what I'd do. If you don't mind me asking, how old was your daughter when she started using? Did she ever say why or how she started?
Aww thank you for your kind words. And I honestly believe questions and open conversations are an important way to conquer the fear and stigma around any addiction.
My daughter's meth journey began in her early twenties (she's 32 now) with her ex-husband who introduced her to it. I didn't realize the grip it had on her- she hid it well for awhile- until one day when I looked at a photo of her taken around Easter. When I zoomed in on her smile, I saw the sides of her teeth had turned a dark grey. I questioned her about it, she brushed it off like it was nothing. I wanted her to be honest with me or at least with someone, but she refused any kind of counseling. She was so wrapped up with him and their addictions. Things took a turn for the worst.
She began getting super skinny, her body concave, and her hair fell out in clumps- I found small handfuls in my bathroom sink-I was terrified. There were lots of lies told, excuses made, and terrible fights (her ex was arrested for DV several times. My daughter told me much later they only fought when they were high) Then came all the drama with cops, arrests for possession and finally two years of jail time.
While she was incarcerated, I felt I could finally breathe. I knew she was safe and away from him. Afterwards, she spent time in a halfway house then bounced around with some friends, couchsurfing. I didn't fully trust her then and wasn't 100 percent sure if I wanted her around me. See, I have two other children, her older brother and her younger sister. They'd moved on with their lives and I had moved to another state. I wanted my daughter to stay sober and get her life together but she was so weak.
And I was still so angry and hurt.
I worked on forgiving her through lots of therapy. I was taught to write all my emotions and the things I was still holding onto down on paper. One night, I watched that paper burn in my friend's fireplace. I cried buckets of tears. God, it was so therapeutic! I began to slowly open my heart and allow her back in. Baby steps.
Today, she is living in a sober living house and is working on her job skills. She's divorced and getting much needed therapy. It's a work in progress. Am I afraid she'll use again? I hope not but she'll always have an addictive personality- I can't change that- but I have to trust in this journey and believe that she's finally coming out the other side.
Wow, this had me in tears. I could feel the grief in my bones. I really am so sorry, Rachel. I appreciate you taking the time to share this with me. The power of a mother—your attention to detail, your deep inquiry, and care to even notice the discoloring of her teeth. I would be the same way with my son.
I think you did the right thing by holding boundaries and not having her around all the time. My Grandma always allowed my mom to come home no matter what she did. It just ended up enabling my mom and further perpetuating her lifestyle and addictions. It's gotta be the hardest thing to place distance from your child, but in the end, I think it's the most compassionate choice for both of you. And it's what I've had to do with my mother as well.
Writing things can be so powerful. I host women's retreat and I do a similar thing where I guide people to write things down only to burn them, to release, to let go. It can be truly profound. It gave me chills thinking about you doing this for yourself.
And yeah, all we can do is hope and take care of our hearts in the process. Sending so much love to you and yours. Thank you for being here in this space for me and having these hard conversations.
“When Joy and Sorrow Meet” by Avalon ministered to my soul when my 18-year-old son ran from the police and was gone for two years when I never heard from him. When he was found, he went to prison for two years, but at least I knew where he was. Ambiguous loss cannot fully be grieved.
Wow, I'm so sorry, Susie. This is heartbreaking. I worry every day that my son will follow the same path as my mother. I can't do it all again. I hope I've broken the cycle, but I guess you never fully know. Has your son been released? Do you talk to him now?
Yes, after his release he went to AA for years, got married, had two beautiful children, and started his own construction company. He’s doing well. Thanks for asking.
Thank you for sharing your poignant reflection in In the Waiting Place, Where Joy and Grief Sit Side by Side. Your words beautifully capture the delicate balance between joy and sorrow, illustrating how they can coexist in the spaces between moments of waiting. Your vulnerability in expressing the complexities of these emotions resonates deeply, offering readers a sense of solidarity and understanding. It's a reminder that even in times of uncertainty, there is room for both grief and joy to exist together.
Isn't that the distillation of life you've touched on here? The need to live in gratitude even when we don't know what it all means. Thanks for sharing. And I hope you get the answers you want even if they're the ones you dread.
I am continually amazed how stories that are superficially so different can resonate so deeply. How grief and pain and love and joy tie us together even when the details don't. I felt this one in my chest. Beautiful work. ❤️
Right?! I feel the same way. My stories about my life are so specific, but still people are resonating with them and relating and finding themselves in it, but the emotions are universal and that's what brings us all together.
It always seems that the ones with these gifts for words are given the toughest, but most important, stories to tell. You are holding your space with eloquence and grace. I am inspired and motivated by your courage and resolve to just keep on going. Take notes, process when you can. You will always have the gift of voice and you are clearly called to share it, but just keep loving that mom and son of yours and honoring them with your rapt attention. Right now, in this liminal zone, that’s all that really matters.
I love the addition of Fitzgerald’s quote and the other relevant poems in this piece. Thank you for sharing the beauty of your child in photos. I remember my own joys when I see them.
Thank you for reading! I really agree with you. I feel like I've been given this important message to tell and a responsibility to share it. I'm honestly grateful for it. Tired, but still, grateful. Appreciate all that you've said. "Takes notes, process what you can" - such good advice, and really all I can do for the moment. And surprisingly enough, it's felt good to not have to have everything figured out all at once, to just let the healing take what it takes.
Thank you for sharing. Helping others by putting your pain out there, making yourself vulnerable, publicly, to help others, has got to be one of the hardest things to do, and you do it creatively and powerfully. God bless you, your family, and everyone that reads this.
Thank you. Even though it’s sometimes hard to write about my life, it helps me to feel stronger and more connected to share these stories. Thanks for reading!
Bless you for sharing your heart and allowing words to heal your soul. My daughter also struggled with a meth addiction. She's been sober for a year now and I am so grateful for everyday. Her addiction rocked my world but as we slowly grow back together, things feel hopeful and much brighter. Baby steps.
Thank you for sharing some of your story with me. I'm so glad to hear that your daughter is sober now. What a relief. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. My heart aches for you. It's always been so hard with my mother. I can only imagine how devastating it must be with your own child. I worry about my son every day. I hope he doesn't follow in her footsteps. I honestly don't know what I'd do. If you don't mind me asking, how old was your daughter when she started using? Did she ever say why or how she started?
Aww thank you for your kind words. And I honestly believe questions and open conversations are an important way to conquer the fear and stigma around any addiction.
My daughter's meth journey began in her early twenties (she's 32 now) with her ex-husband who introduced her to it. I didn't realize the grip it had on her- she hid it well for awhile- until one day when I looked at a photo of her taken around Easter. When I zoomed in on her smile, I saw the sides of her teeth had turned a dark grey. I questioned her about it, she brushed it off like it was nothing. I wanted her to be honest with me or at least with someone, but she refused any kind of counseling. She was so wrapped up with him and their addictions. Things took a turn for the worst.
She began getting super skinny, her body concave, and her hair fell out in clumps- I found small handfuls in my bathroom sink-I was terrified. There were lots of lies told, excuses made, and terrible fights (her ex was arrested for DV several times. My daughter told me much later they only fought when they were high) Then came all the drama with cops, arrests for possession and finally two years of jail time.
While she was incarcerated, I felt I could finally breathe. I knew she was safe and away from him. Afterwards, she spent time in a halfway house then bounced around with some friends, couchsurfing. I didn't fully trust her then and wasn't 100 percent sure if I wanted her around me. See, I have two other children, her older brother and her younger sister. They'd moved on with their lives and I had moved to another state. I wanted my daughter to stay sober and get her life together but she was so weak.
And I was still so angry and hurt.
I worked on forgiving her through lots of therapy. I was taught to write all my emotions and the things I was still holding onto down on paper. One night, I watched that paper burn in my friend's fireplace. I cried buckets of tears. God, it was so therapeutic! I began to slowly open my heart and allow her back in. Baby steps.
Today, she is living in a sober living house and is working on her job skills. She's divorced and getting much needed therapy. It's a work in progress. Am I afraid she'll use again? I hope not but she'll always have an addictive personality- I can't change that- but I have to trust in this journey and believe that she's finally coming out the other side.
Wow, this had me in tears. I could feel the grief in my bones. I really am so sorry, Rachel. I appreciate you taking the time to share this with me. The power of a mother—your attention to detail, your deep inquiry, and care to even notice the discoloring of her teeth. I would be the same way with my son.
I think you did the right thing by holding boundaries and not having her around all the time. My Grandma always allowed my mom to come home no matter what she did. It just ended up enabling my mom and further perpetuating her lifestyle and addictions. It's gotta be the hardest thing to place distance from your child, but in the end, I think it's the most compassionate choice for both of you. And it's what I've had to do with my mother as well.
Writing things can be so powerful. I host women's retreat and I do a similar thing where I guide people to write things down only to burn them, to release, to let go. It can be truly profound. It gave me chills thinking about you doing this for yourself.
And yeah, all we can do is hope and take care of our hearts in the process. Sending so much love to you and yours. Thank you for being here in this space for me and having these hard conversations.
“When Joy and Sorrow Meet” by Avalon ministered to my soul when my 18-year-old son ran from the police and was gone for two years when I never heard from him. When he was found, he went to prison for two years, but at least I knew where he was. Ambiguous loss cannot fully be grieved.
Wow, I'm so sorry, Susie. This is heartbreaking. I worry every day that my son will follow the same path as my mother. I can't do it all again. I hope I've broken the cycle, but I guess you never fully know. Has your son been released? Do you talk to him now?
Yes, after his release he went to AA for years, got married, had two beautiful children, and started his own construction company. He’s doing well. Thanks for asking.
I love this so much. A happy ending. God, it feels good to read one of those every once in a while. Thank you for sharing.
My love, this, this right here, these words, so powerful. I have more thoughts but for now, thank you.
Aw, thank you Tiffany. It’s the best I could do given how little time I’ve had to write and process this month. 🫠 Appreciate you reading, love.
Thank you for sharing your poignant reflection in In the Waiting Place, Where Joy and Grief Sit Side by Side. Your words beautifully capture the delicate balance between joy and sorrow, illustrating how they can coexist in the spaces between moments of waiting. Your vulnerability in expressing the complexities of these emotions resonates deeply, offering readers a sense of solidarity and understanding. It's a reminder that even in times of uncertainty, there is room for both grief and joy to exist together.
Thank you, Anton. Appreciate you reading.
Isn't that the distillation of life you've touched on here? The need to live in gratitude even when we don't know what it all means. Thanks for sharing. And I hope you get the answers you want even if they're the ones you dread.
Yes, exactly! That is my aim every day—to find the light, the gratitude.
Your description of the Spanish moss is amazing
Thanks, Caz! I am so drawn and healed by it. It always shows up in my dreams and meditations.
I am continually amazed how stories that are superficially so different can resonate so deeply. How grief and pain and love and joy tie us together even when the details don't. I felt this one in my chest. Beautiful work. ❤️
Right?! I feel the same way. My stories about my life are so specific, but still people are resonating with them and relating and finding themselves in it, but the emotions are universal and that's what brings us all together.
Absolutely. I think there is something incredibly comforting and healing in that. ❤️
You have an extraordinary gift.
It always seems that the ones with these gifts for words are given the toughest, but most important, stories to tell. You are holding your space with eloquence and grace. I am inspired and motivated by your courage and resolve to just keep on going. Take notes, process when you can. You will always have the gift of voice and you are clearly called to share it, but just keep loving that mom and son of yours and honoring them with your rapt attention. Right now, in this liminal zone, that’s all that really matters.
I love the addition of Fitzgerald’s quote and the other relevant poems in this piece. Thank you for sharing the beauty of your child in photos. I remember my own joys when I see them.
Thank you for reading! I really agree with you. I feel like I've been given this important message to tell and a responsibility to share it. I'm honestly grateful for it. Tired, but still, grateful. Appreciate all that you've said. "Takes notes, process what you can" - such good advice, and really all I can do for the moment. And surprisingly enough, it's felt good to not have to have everything figured out all at once, to just let the healing take what it takes.
Sending prayers of healing your way. Your son is beautiful.
Thank you, Karen. He is such a dream. Truly. I cannot believe how lucky I am to know him.
🙏 ❤️ I am in the waiting too.
It’s such a hard place to be. The place of surrender.
“….what it means to love someone you can’t always trust, someone who says “I love you” even as they hurt you.” Ahhh… walking the liminal, with beauty
Forever and ever walking the liminal. Getting really good and being comfortable with all the unknowing
Brava, Jessy! An evolutionary skill for us, who missed out on secure attachment. Love the liminal. I'm there more than "real world" lol
Oof yes. I’m healing my attachment wounds through my son and my relationship with my husband and it’s been so nourishing.
You are strongest in this peace of surrender. I believe in you.
Thank you, love. That means a lot. And it really is so true.
❤️