In 2002, my “mother” got pregnant for the sixth time. She had kept three of the kids, put one up for adoption, and the other lived with the dad. She wanted to get an abortion so she could keep doing drugs, but after my dad and grandma didn’t let that happen, she kept the baby, but also kept doing drugs. In March of 2003, on a snowy day, that baby girl was born, and that baby girl was me. After spending nine months in the womb, exposed to meth and god knows what else, it was a miracle I didn’t have any apparent problems, and an even bigger miracle I had turned out to have no problems at all!
Fast forward to when I was about two. My dad went to prison, and soon after, my “mom” did too. My three siblings and I lived with my grandparents 'til I was about five, and then both my parents got out. My dad stayed out after that, but before I was even six, my “mom” was back in. You may be wondering why I’ve been putting "mom" in quotations. Well, that’s because she was never a mom to me at all. After that day when I was five years old, I never saw her outside of jail walls 'til I was almost 13. For years I had only remembered her behind glass, until she got moved to a prison where there were physical visits, however, the only hugs I ever got followed by the guards shouting, “NO TOUCHING!” I was so used to her not being in my life that we had a family without her. It was always my dad, my older sisters, my older brother, and me. We were happy for six years without her, and when she came home we pretended it was good, but we all knew everything had gotten so bad.
As a surprise to no one, soon enough she was back to the meth. I was the first one to see it, and when I asked her about it, she told me I made it up in my head. She said if I told my dad about it, I was crazy and just wanted drama. I kept quiet about it until a year later when my siblings and dad had caught on. She moved out I was 14. I didn’t speak to her for a very long time, until somehow, I ended up living with her. I cannot even go into what happened there, but to say the least, it was hell! After a few months, she ended up with six felonies, and I lived alone for a while 'til my siblings moved in with me, and we then moved with my dad.
My "mom" has been taking money from my dad for years, making us go without even when she was in jail or prison. She took so much more then just money away from my family though; she chose drugs over us countless times, she did things that have forever scarred me, and left my family and I with so much pain. I am so grateful she is no longer a part of our lives, but I cannot deny that there are times I wish I had a mom.
People say meth is a monster, but I say meth is a choice monsters choose! Addiction is not a disease, it’s an excuse to make people feel better for abandoning the life they could have had! Because of this, I now do have apparent problems, and also problems I’ll never be able to speak of. 16 years ago, it was a miracle I was even alive, but the real tragedy is I’ve never felt alive. The tragedy is that I always believed I never deserved to be alive because my “mom” is a monster.