Moms of addicted loved ones are hero warriors because they have to fight every day.
They fight to find and save the child they once coddled to their bosom.
A child with a substance use disorder becomes lost and trapped inside an imposter, a dark being that sucks common sense, logic, and rational decisions out of a beloved child. The demon hijacks the brain.
When a Mom looks into her child’s eyes, she can no longer see the man or woman she raised, the one who kissed her goodnight, the one who held her hand and knew right from wrong.
She sees a possessed demon who lives for only one thing: his drug of choice.
Friends look at her differently. They think she’s part of the problem. They say, don’t enable him. You need to let him hit rock bottom.
But rock bottom sounds like death, and she refuses to believe that is a place her child wants to go.
What should she do?
Deep inside the imposter is her loving child. If she lets him go and prays for him to fend for himself, is he strong enough to resurface?
Isn’t she supposed to love her child unconditionally? But how? How can she love the child and not the imposter?
She loathes the imposter. If she loves her child, she encourages the imposter. Giving him money and a roof over his head only supports the beast. How can she separate the two?
This must be her fault. If she was a good Mom, she’d find a way to help him. This never should have happened.
Nothing helps. Her child becomes more and more unrecognizable.
She grieves. Nobody knows how to stop the imposter. The health care system fails to see her child’s needs as a disease. Society wants him in jail.
She has lost sleep, finances, her health and her friends.
All she can do is wait in agony for the phone to ring to inform her that her child is gone forever.
And when she gets the call, if she’s lucky, she’ll find a letter like one of these.
I wish I would have gotten help sooner. I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could have done differently. I was too stubborn to get help sooner.
I love you. Please know that I’m in a better place. This isn’t goodbye. I’ll see you later in a place where there is no such thing as addiction.
I know you tried your best.
When I finally met you at 13, I was already damaged, broken. It wasn't your fault.
Alcohol, pain pills, Xanax, cocaine .... these were the things I chose to help me check out of the pain. These were the things that helped me pretend that I was somehow normal, adequate, beautiful, and worthy of a good life.
I struggled openly and you saw it. You never knew what to do, but you told me I was good and that you were proud of me. Your words were better than drugs. They made me soar, even if it was only for a minute.
Please don't beat yourself up. Don't think about the "what ifs" or what you could have or should have done differently. I knew that I was deeply loved by at least one person in my life and that is something no one can take away from me or from you.
I think when everything is said and done, the only thing that counts is love...and that's all that is remembered. Thank you for chasing me. I'll see you again. Until then, think about the happy times and know that I'm not suffering anymore.
With all my love, Your Angel
My addiction wasn’t your fault. I didn’t turn out this way because of you. I never stopped loving you. I wanted to be a “good girl” in your eyes.
*These letters were written by recovering addicts after they were asked, “If I had died while in active addiction, what would I want my mom to know?”
Hope Builders, LLC was created to bring education, support and hope to moms of addicted loved ones.
Moms who want to let go of the addiction chaos with love, and without giving up, are invited to join our private FB group (MomsLettingGo).
Moms heal in our community because they are surrounded by other moms who understand, encourage, and bring hope.
Together we are Mighty Moms determined to heal, so we can be a part of a movement to stop the addiction stigma and find affordable recovery solutions for every person.
Download free guide: Moms Letting Go Without Giving Up, Seven Steps to Self-Recovery by Michelle Weidenbenner.
Donate to help fund our operating costs for raising awareness with content marketing and advertising of worthy causes.
Stay up to date on our podcast episodes, worthy causes we support, and other opportunities.