Speak Up

My baby girl, my first born, my mini me... became addicted to meth in the fall of '09. We live on a small island in Alaska, meth was like the boogie man. Didn't exist here on the island, but we all knew it was out in the real world. My daughter left for her second year of college, and things were immediatly different. Phone calls were rare, I would get random LONG texts at odd hours. She would call when she was short on cash, and they lasted only a few moments. She came home at christmas and admitted to some 'experimenting'. X, molly's, smoking weed, a little drinking, but never could I have imagined that meth was her new best friend. I worked with kids for 10 years, and made sure I educated my children on the dangers of Meth, and other drugs. But as we always said, my kids didn't fuck up very often, but when they did?? It was always HUGE mistakes.

I thank God every day for my daughter's 2 roommates. She had finally admitted to using, but totally played it off as recreational that got out of hand. She wrecked her pride and joy, her first nice car. I spoke to her while she was in the hospital and asked if she was high. No mama was the answer. My heart broke, I knew my baby girl was into something, but understanding the depth of her addiction... nope I just couldn't see it. Soon after she had a bum night and told me a little of what she was doing. Within 24 hours those 2 angels felt the need to call me and spill the beans on my daughter. Without them, I would have no child today. Once she knew I had the full story, she cried with relief. We didn't keep secrets from each other. And she hated being a liar. Foolishly I believed that we could fight this over the phone, long distance. In the next 24 hours I lost her... she had purchased more meth and holed up in her dorm room. We had to get security and a dear friend that lived near by, to break the doors down and save my daughter. At this point, knowing she was alive was enough for me. Those 24 hours broke me. I was a crumbled mess on my office floor. To this moment, I hadn't told a single soul of my daughters addiction. I wasn't sleeping, I was calling her constently, I was a complete wreck.

After a friend found me in that frazzled state, she helped me contact my husband. Brandi's father and I were going to buy her a ticket home and thought everything was fine. After talking with those that had found her and were keeping her safe for us, her detoxing and the state of her overall health forced us to act immediatly. I was on the first plane available. I flew out on Cinco de mayo... and was greeted at the airport by my baby girl, high as balls on meth. She was so pale, she had picked at her skin from her neck & shoulders to her thighs. Open bleeding wounds. My daughter has the most beautiful hazel/green eyes. They were so dark when I saw her, I huged her so tight.. and could feel the frantic beating of her heart. But I wouldn't cry.. we had this.. we were gonna fight this. We flew the next beautiful blue skyed morning. She couldn't see the beauty, she saw the demons in the clouds, heard the voices repeatedly asking her name, swore we were being followed. Screamed and yelled at me told me it was my fault, I ruined her life. And at the moment, i sure as fuck felt that way.

After it was determined she needed rehab, arrangements were made. We went to say our good byes in the ER and my loving, sweet baby, gave me the 'head nod' and walked away. I crumbled to my knees, had to be walked out by the staff... I couldn't believe that I fucked my kid up so badly that were even here. It was my fault.. no doubt in my mind. Now I know thats not true. 29 days later as I walked into the recovery center.. my beautiful green eyed girl was there to meet me. With a strenght and confidence I had never seen before. She was clean, sober and alive. I could finally breath. "you can breath, because I am mama". She has become the person she was always meant to be....