beauty in your scars

From the time I was born, my dad was an alcoholic and drug addict. It would be years before my mom would follow suit. From the second I was born, my mom loved me like nothing else. I was her whole world and she took care of me like I was. My dad went back and forth between being clean and struggling through addictions. Two and a half years after I was born, my mom had my younger brother, and he became her whole world as well.

We moved to a new house almost every year. My dad lived with us off and on, but never enough for me to remember clearly. I have very few memories as a small child, most of which are now traumatic events that have been replayed in my head over and over again. I really think I would have had more memories had I not blocked most of it.

When I was about six or seven years old, we went down to Okeechobee to visit my dad. He was in treatment at a place called Dunklin, and he was doing very well at the time. As we drove back in the rain, we came around a big corner. Moments before, we had stopped at a gas station for gas. I can remember that gas station stop so clearly because it where I took my seatbelt off. It was a long drive and my brother and I were sleeping in the backseat. Before we pulled out of the gas station, I had fallen asleep again. Minutes down the road, my mom recalls that I woke up and said to her, “Mommy, something is going to happen.” She attempted to calm me and for a few minutes I was insistent and then went back to sleep again.

It was no more than five minutes later that we would begin to round the corner of the road and instead go into a steep ditch, taking down trees as we went. This accident was a turning point in our lives, and not for the better.

In the accident my mom injured her back, causing her to be prescribed painkillers. From that day forward, she would struggle with addiction to prescription drugs and alcohol.

Fast forward about 5 years. My brother and I were taken away from my mom and lived with my Uncle and his family. It would be almost 5 more years before my mom would be fully recovered and clean after nearly losing her life and us forever.

Living with my mom was a journey in itself because of the trust that had been broken in the years we lived with her. My brother and I went through hell together and I honestly believe that God rescued us from it before it got extremely bad.

My dad still struggles with addiction to drugs and alcohol and it’s been years since I’ve had contact with him. Every single day I deal with issues in regard to him and his choices. Every day.