My name is Renee. I have a beautiful daughter…a beautiful daughter that happens to be a heroin addict. I have gone through every imaginable scenario and disaster in parenting her. She started using at the tender age of 18.
The day before Thanksgiving, nine years ago, I lost all happiness, peace of mind…and my daughter.
I remember looking at her that first time in detox and thinking, “Its okay; we can fix this. She will be fine.” As I walked in to visit her, she was sleeping with a rosary in her hands across her chest. That moment sticks with me and knowing she had God with her…well, I just knew it would all be okay.
She stayed in detox for a total of five days before she convinced me she didn’t need the whole thirty days in rehab. I think back to how naive I was – and still am, at times.
I’ll give you the very short version: She has been admitted to a total of 13 rehabs – completing only one at 19 years old – she’s been in jail a half dozen times – three of those times I’m the one who turned her in. She’s stolen everything from my house and our family members’ homes. She broke into my home, lied, stole, destroyed every relationship in the family (and we have a huge family).
She has been admitted to a total of 13 rehabs – completing only one at 19 years old – she’s been in jail a half dozen times – three of those times I’m the one who turned her in.
Everyone has given up on her…even her two brothers. But not not me; I’m her mother.
She used to show up everyday, run into my house, grab food, then try to lock the bathroom door and shower. We finally put locks on everything in the house just to keep her out.
About three months ago, she showed up at five in the morning, which isn’t abnormal. She was very sick I let her come in. She stayed and I eventually got her into a methadone program. Then, of course, things started going missing again, so off she went.
I was beside myself, but this time was different.
I realize I can’t – and won’t – do this anymore. I cant save her! So, I went down to the court house and got a restraining order.
I have to do this; it’s the only thing I haven’t done so I have to completely cut her off. God, I pray I’m doing the right thing. When I don’t hear from her, I worry. Then when she shows up, I’m relieved…but it’s always the same outcome.