I become embarrassed and angry when she is brought up in discussions, the only person who knows of her addiction is my diary. Last week mum found it and read it. We sat together and cried over the words that I had written. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She cried to me. “Little L you’re my everything. I will change, I’m going to change, and I will be a better mother.” At the time I felt a sense of hope, I thought that maybe my words would impact her future decisions. But when the conversation ended, nothing changed. I was sick of her, and could no longer live this way. I always believed that I could accept her and learn to live with such discomfort. But I was wrong. And so I …show more content…
“I need to talk to you,” my mother said, looking up from her glass as she served me some milk. “About drugs.” I abruptly replied with a nod, and she continued. “I’ve been on drugs for a long time,” she said. She had confirmed what I had known from a very young age, however, I still didn’t want to believe the truth. “And now I am done, goodbye drugs” That night mum was honest to me about her drug abuse, she never apologized or showed any heartache over her monstrous mood swings, of which I was the exclusive observer to. Instead, she began to believe that the addict within her was a spirit that came to destroy her, now she chased that spirit away with the function of her newly found self-control. Something Linda Blair struggled to accomplish! After acknowledging her addiction, she went on to listing reasons why I should never do drugs. That day I managed to detach the addiction from my mum. I learnt that I cannot choose who she is, but I can choose to love