Loving an addict and becoming an addict
(Batavia, NY, USA)
I had gone to Church for the first time in a long time one Sunday in June, almost two years ago. I had just had a terrible break up, was struggling with mental illnesses diagnosed years previous, and I felt as if I was falling apart. I was asking God for a reason to stay on this Earth, begging him to guide me.
That’s when I met (We’ll call him C). He was sitting in a pew behind me. My cousin introduced me to a few guys sitting behind us, and I said hi to all of them. C smiled back at me warmly. We got in a circle for prayer, and he made his way next to me. We talked and he asked about my scars, and asked why a beautiful girl like me would do something like that to myself. He made me nervous, I felt noticed like it was the first time. He then later on gave me his number. He expected me not to call, as he was much much older than I but I did. That’s when it all began.
For two months, things seemed perfect. He bought me things. We went places. We would walk around for hours talking about anything and everything. He never hesitated to make me feel gorgeous. And he was upfront about being in recovery on our first date. He told me everything and I still stayed. I even gave him my virginity. Not even three months into our relationship, I became pregnant, he was thrown out of assisted living, and we were both using and living at my moms house.
He was arrested in late September, and in October I discovered I was pregnant. He pleaded with me to keep the baby, told me if I had an abortion he would never forgive me. So despite being 18 and finishing high school, I kept the baby. I was then thrown out of school for keeping the baby, and just living at my moms house, broke, pregnant, and attempting not to use.
C was released in November, and for about a week things were okay. But then C and my mom used behind my back. And I did not find out until I discovered needles and dilated pupils. I was heart broken. I begged them not to use around me. I was trying so hard. After fights and a break up, it happened all over again.
In December C was locked up again. Then sent to a few thirty day programs. So there I was, facing depression, a child I was not ready for, a boyfriend in jail and a drugged up mom. C came back and forth in and out.
Eventually, March/April came. I was diagnosed with gestational blood pressure and diabetes. The worst two things to have during pregnancy. I was crushed. I was told I would be lucky to have my daughter, and that I would need to be induced. I was devastated. My and my daughters health were in shambles and had no one to help. C was in another town at another program attempting to still stay clean. This was his last chance.
May 9th came, and it was the day I was supposed to be induced. I went into labor on my own, and had my baby girl. She was born unable to breathe on her own and was sent down immediately to the nicu. I was in my room with C, so depressed and worried about her.
The next morning, I get a phone call in my hospital room. It was C’s ex, and mother of two children, harassing me. I’d been dealing with her for quite some time and this was the worst. She told me that he told her I had an abortion. That I didn’t deserve his child, and that I was a child myself and that I’d always be a nobody with a nobody for a father to my daughter. That she hoped my daughter would stop breathing.
I hung up and she wouldn’t stop calling. I was so angry. I hated C for not using the condoms I brought, I hated him for coming into my life. I hated that my life was this bad since he walked into it. But, alas, I loved my daughter Ellicia. And after a week, she was released. We stayed with my mom for a few weeks, and despite not wanting to, her and I moved in out of town with C.
A few days after June 17th, me and C’s one year, my mother died of an overdose. The night she died, we had fought. She told me she loved me and I hung up on her and turned off my phone. She died hours later. In a burger king bathroom, by herself.
I didn’t know for two days until I looked at my phone again. I stopped breathing. My best friend, my endless support, dead. And all because C and I got her into heroin. She had five kids, including me. Gone was our mother because of addiction. She died not knowing I loved her back. She died alone. I was her biggest support in addiction, and there she sat alone, no kids because they left or family was caring for them.
Only months later, me and C started abusing crack. I used for a short few weeks, whereas C couldn’t stop. He spent our last ten dollars on crack, our rent money on crack, my daughters money on crack, the list is endless. He robbed people, stores, for crack.
It got so bad, there were countless days and nights I was home alone a scared 19 year old girl with an infant and had no one to turn to. He would come home drunk or high, odd hours or sometimes never came home. Dodge my calls and texts, and would hide if I went out to look for him.
For the millionth time I packed up me and the baby’s stuff while he was gone, and left. He was coming home the one night we were leaving and alcohol was on his breath. He begged me to talk and we went back in the house and argued. He turned it all on me and said, ” The streets are where I belong, im not going to be a house n**** and clean and cook.”
We somehow made up, such and such, and a few short weeks later mid November I discovered I was pregnant again. I took a test, and he went out while we waited for the results, and came back an hour later. I was standing there crying as he hugged me, took out a dime and went to shoot it. I was done. I told him I wasn’t going to do this to my children, and walked out again suitcase and all.
We got clean stayed together for the kids, and in January, after C came back from another rehab, we lost the baby. And the day I had the surgery to remove the already dead baby, the police showed up at the door looking for C for a previous warrant. C was arrested January of this year. I was left with no money, a healing body, and an 8 month old. I got up one day, and decided I would not depend on C anymore. It was my turn.
From January until now I’ve been in recovery, job searching, interviewing, taking care of my daughter full time, and attending job courses. I had no time to sleep, no time or money to eat, but I am proud to tell you this:
I start my first ever job this week, I broke up with C, and I have a few months clean.
Me and my daughter are finally where we need to be. And I’ve never loved anyone more than my gorgeous daughter.