This February will be TEN years for which my daughter, Amanda, has been in recovery! Recovery from all drugs and alcohol. Ten years of a peaceful, rewarding life for her, and her family. And for me.
It hasn’t always been like this though, as there were ten long and grueling years prior to this tranquility and joy, whereby I thought nearly every day, that I’d lose her. Well meaning friends saying I needn’t worry, that she’d outgrow it. Me, scared sleepless, fearing the worst.
At the sweet young age of 14, my daughter was tempted by the evil hand of a fate so cruel, so dehumanizing, so frightening. Drugs of almost any kind, and alcohol entered her not fully grown mind, and body, torturing her. Torturing me. Amanda didn’t seem to know how to handle any of it, nor did I.
We lived in a continual state of pandemonium. Daily arguments ensued. Slamming doors, and running away. Once as far as Georgia, necessitating her father to travel from Connecticut, to bring my baby girl home.
Our words became vile. There was no longer peace at home, within our family, or in my mind.
There were emergency room visits, arrests, courtrooms and juvenile centers.
Yes, I tried all the conventional methods for teenage recovery and behavioral issues. In and out patient facilities. Tough love meetings, as well as any 12 step meeting I could locate.
It was a difficult time. The path was not lit. No directions. It was beyond awful. It was horrific for me, and for my darling daughter, clinging to her last threads of childhood, all the while, her mind was on auto, swaying her towards destruction.
I was losing my daughter.
High school came and went. As did her college years.
Had my daughter grown into a semi functioning addict? Obtaining her GED, securing job after job. Becoming engaged to be married, then pregnant.
Amanda gave birth to my first grandchild, the love of my life. Born days after my own mothers passing. In a huge sense, he saved me.
Although my daughter’s addiction continued after his birth, a new level of destruction was upon us. She was a mother now. Amanda’s marriage was troubled from day one, and soon dissolved.
Her once child/adolescent life had turned into one of a young woman, and a mom. Amanda was unable to handle all this. She was unable to handle anything. Things spiraled downward until my sisters passing ( late stage chronic alcoholism).
It was shortly after this sad event that my daughter approached me, requesting help for her addiction. A dream come true for an addicts mom, although we remained walking a tightrope of fear.
Amanda persevered. She worked at her detox and recovery. She resided at a treatment center, which was not posh. Meals and cleaning services were not provided. It was tough love at its finest, just what Amanda needed to recover.
Upon discharge, she worked the program with a vengeance. Daily NA or AA meetings. A psychiatrist, and therapy. She sought gainful employment, accepting a position at a five star resort, but the position was entry level. She worked in room service. More tough love, imposed by herself.
This February, my daughter will have achieved TEN years in recovery. She has created a wonderful life for herself and her family. She has two amazing children, (she’s a super mom), and an awesome husband to share her life.
Amanda has pursued a career in the addiction field, and has grown within its structure. She has worked diligently at her career, and has reaped the rewards. She is soon to graduate with a Bachelors of Science degree in Alternative Medicine.
Amanda has also schooled in Ashtanga Yoga, and has worked as an instructor. She subscribes to healthy living, as evidenced by her diet and fitness. She continues with 12 step meetings as an integral part of her life, and surrounds herself with other loving souls in recovery.
She is an active part of her community, and she loves assisting others in the path towards recovery.
My daughter is a marvel.
My daughter is loved.
My daughter is alive.