The Parent/Child Relationship

Every parent/child relationship has its ups and downs. When you factor in the impact of the child struggling with opioid addiction, it often causes fractures in the foundation of that family relationship.

How opioid addiction impacted my family bonds

Prior to recovery, I couldn't see the stress and heartache my own mother was carrying each and every day. Only recently have I been able to truly comprehend her journey.

In October of 2016, both of her children, my brother and I, were rapidly spiraling downward from poison. My brother's poison was cancer; mine was IV opiates. While she was witnessing the decline of my brother's health everyday from something he did not choose, there I was, states away, absent, dismantling from a poison all of my choosing.

In active addiction, I couldn’t escape my broken vision to see beyond my own spiraling. I couldn't face what my struggles were doing to those that wanted better for me. Today, 7 years later, I now can.

Addiction stole me from my family

I remember not being able to understand why my addictions made everybody so upset with me. I thought, “I'm only hurting myself, I'm not doing this to anyone other than me.” Meanwhile, I didn’t realize that I had continually allowed my opioid addiction to deteriorate my place in my family.

I was drowning in withdrawals, or trying to outrun them, and wasn’t at all recognizing that during the worst times of my mom’s life, watching her son’s life be robbed by cancer, that I wasn’t showing up for either of them. That fact, to this very day, haunts me.

Being aware of this now has fortunately made me a better person—a better daughter and mother. Now, I take my position in my family, especially the bond with my mother, far more seriously. The forgiveness I have been blessed by from my family has been transformative.

My mother's warnings

We have several people in our family that have struggled with addiction, but my mom wasn’t one of them. She is one of the most responsible, levelheaded, duty-driven, emotionally mature, and strong spirited people I have ever known.

My brother was like her, but in those ways and at that time, I certainly wasn’t. My mom couldn't understand or accept my struggles with OUD as an excuse for how my responsibilities as a parent had fallen by the wayside. After all, she did warn me.

She'd warn me about saying no to drugs, about “people, places and things,” having the power to destroy my life. In all fairness, she did try to prepare me for the consequences that my choices would bring. I just wasn’t emotionally mature enough to grasp that her warnings were an act of pure love for me. I didn’t heed any warning given to me, which eventually led my life precisely where she warned it would go.

Reckoning with the past

As present as I now am in my family, I have an extremely difficult time accepting how long I wasn't. I only showed up one time for my brother, when he was in hospice.

I'll never forget the fact that I barely showed up for my family during my brother’s cancer struggles, that I was banned from my mom’s wedding because I couldn’t attend sober, that I became just another stressor to a family that had sacrificed and survived so much for me throughout my life.

Opioid use disorder didn’t permit me to face those facts, to accept those facts, or to change those facts. Thankfully, my recovery did.

Rebuilding bonds with my family

When I first entered my recovery journey and relocated to Florida, my mom made it clear to me that my recovery matters to her. She made it known that she wants me around and for me to stay on the right side of that nightmare so that I can rebuild alongside our wonderful family.

In active addiction I genuinely believed that my mom was against me, and she never was. She didn’t hate me, she only hated the drugs.

As the months and eventually years passed since surrendering to the process, I have begun to better understand the ways my opioid addiction negatively impacted my family, relationships, and ability to stay within the realms of reality.

Additionally, as a mother, myself, I simply cannot fathom walking a mile in her shoes if one of my children was to find themselves spiraling with substance abuse. Her plea for me to stay in recovery, her promise that we would and could be better, be great, was a fundamental factor in the strength I utilized to follow through.

A new chapter

Today, I understand my mom way better. Today, she is my rock and my “go-to”. She is who I call with good news, bad news, and weird news. She is somebody I admire and trust that decided to believe in me. Despite my downfalls and the many years I was absent, lacking a sense of reality, and poisoning myself, my mom really did love me throughout it all.

My mom was hard on me, yes. Everything was hard, then. The consequences and circumstances that stemmed from my opioid use disorder hurt every part of my life and every bond, and I almost lost hope.

The beauty here is, my family stepped in to support me as soon as I stepped in to support myself. Opioid use disorder causes many of us to push our loved ones away, but recovery welcomes them back.