I called my mom yesterday. Charlie, her husband, answered the phone to my surprise. Charlie has been in jail on a domestic abuse charge and possession of marijuana. It’s a miracle he didn’t have crack or meth on his person..
So, he answered the phone, I stumbled a bit, then I asked him if my mom was there. He told me to hang on. My mom came to phone and answered very monotonously, “Hello…who is this?”
She has never asked me who I am. She knows my voice. Not only that, but she always perks up when she hears my voice.
I told her it was me. She said, “Oh…hi. What’s goin on?” As if I was bothering her, as if I didn’t matter. Her speech was slow and distracted. I could hear Charlie in the background. I asked her several times, “Why do you sound like that? Are you high?” No answer. We got off the phone.
A few hours later, I was driving home and she gave me a call. She apologized for earlier and she said she couldn’t talk because Charlie was breathing down her neck. She admitted to popping opiates, hence her grogginess. I asked her how and why Charlie has been out. “I helped with this bail,” she explained.
My mom lives in the south. She is currently holding residence in a small Travel Lodge room. Her income is $2.70/hour. She lives off of an allotment of $40 worth of food stamps. How in Christ’s name could she afford a contribution towards his bail?
“This is our year, babe.” My mom has continually reassured me that this is the year we meet. Her soul cannot bare to be without having me another year. In the beginning of year, she created a secret stash of money dedicated to our reunion.
My mother spent all of her savings to bail out her ex convict husband. This same husband that controls her communication, her money, her schedule, her transportation. This same husband that has supplied her with heroin and crack after she spent countless years in rehab. This same husband that calls her a fat bitch and slaps her across the face.
How can it be that this same monster of a man takes precedence over her daughter that DESPITE feeling abandoned for 23 years of her life STILL forgives her and accepts all of her???
I feel so goddamn stupid for having faith in her in the first place. I understand she has her own battles. She is a codependent addict with C-PTSD. I’ve been understanding. But what about me? I just want my mom. Even if she’s in the south and I can only call her and talk to her. Which in itself is a challenge not only because of the fact that she’s literally across the country, but because she doesn’t remember the majority of things that I tell her. Years of drug use has impaired her memory. I feel almost as if there is no point discussing the complex and convoluted parts of my life. God knows I’ve been doing it anyways.
I am hurt. I feel small. She is choosing drugs over me, her only child. If you have been reconnected with your child after 21 years, wouldn’t you do everything in your power to reunite? Am I thinking too irrationally?
This also makes me ponder the idea of my own prognosis in terms of addiction. I hope to never become so torn down and tethered by drugs and alcohol.
GOD I am so incredibly angry and hurt.