Cocaine Addiction

Unlike many people who get addicted to drugs, I had a really good upbringing, got on well with my Mom and my Dad, Nothing was ever too much trouble for them, they were loving and caring and kind. My memories of my childhood days are full of happiness and good times. Little was I to know that it was all a big illusion. That day when they casually said to me that they had something to tell me. I still can’t remember to this day the exact words that they used – all I can remember is the word “adopted” hammering through my mind.

I had been adopted. It came like a bolt from the blue. Looking back I think that they had worked to a plan to get us together that afternoon, like it was so casual – I think they must have been working out exactly what to say to me for a very long time. I could not believe that for 16 years they had kept that a secret from me – how could you possibly live with a child morning, noon and night and not tell them that they are not your child, that they are only adopted.

Mom then said that she would make some tea, and was I going to go out with friends later in the evening. I remember looking at her and Dad as if they were in some other normal world that I was no longer a part of. I had to get out of there – tea, friends, I couldn’t relate to any of that, not then. All I felt was a sense of panic and fear – an enormous shock – if these strangers sitting in front of me were not my real parents –then who the hell were they – and who the hell am I. I just mumbled a sort of no, and blundered off to my room. I threw myself down onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Soon it was after midnight and the only thought in my head was – adopted, adopted, adopted.

For weeks I went through the motions as if everything was normal – lots of people commented on how I didn’t somehow seem to be connected any more. Then came the school examinations I wasn’t even prepared – all I saw on the first exam paper was my name written out – just a name – it wasn’t me. I stood up and walked out the door, went home and packed a bag, took what money was kept in the house, and went walking off into town.

For a while I drifted into different places – and got a cocaine habit. Stole what I needed to feed my habit and keep myself off the street. One day I was casing a big department store – saw a man and his young daughter – so loving they seemed to be – I saw him meet up with some people, and in a loud jovial voice – he said to them – Meet Narelle – my adopted daughter – the group was all smiles and laughter. All I felt was the start of hot tears, pricking behind my eyes – I decided there and then it was time I went back home.

I waited around til my father got in from work and went and knocked on the door – it was Dad who answered – I said Dad, I’ve come back home.

Now I’ve been to counseling, just me and with my parents – that has really helped us out – helped us to see that talking about problems is the way to go – no more running off. Best of all they got me clean of drugs – I00% drug free – it’s like getting a new fresh start in life with the parents that I love – based on honesty.

Yeah, I’ve been a hooker – pretty much all my life – right now I’m going crazy –not getting my usual rations of coke – that’s because I’m not working. I am so depressed, can’t face looking in the mirror, but whenever I walk by one, I just have to take a look. See the results of Alby having a turn – lashing out and breaking my jaw.

 I’ve got to stay on the game it’s the only thing I know – but I’d like to make some money for once that I didn’t earn on my back. It’s not all that it’s cracked up to be –being a sex worker. Anyone can get the sex they want by hanging out in bars, any night of the week.

 At the agency we cater for patrons who like to pay money – get exactly what they want – Madeleine takes pride in us giving the patrons exactly what they want –we have a regular clientele. Madeleine is great – treats us all like family – makes sure that we go in for our checkups – even takes care of the coke. 

Most times there’s no problems but I just came out of hospital – been there for a month having surgery on my jaw. Madeleine the boss says she’ll give me a month to see how it turns out – but if there is no improvement, I’ll have to consider moving on. Moving out of Madeleine’s place gives me panic attacks – I can’t leave this place – it’s the only home I’ve ever known. Madeleine is so caring – us girls that live in, call her Mom – gives me a real nice feeling, calling Madeleine Mom. Anyone needs a helping hand Madeleine will always listen – there’s a lot of compassion in Madeleine once you get past that business front. 

So here I am – still living in – no money, nowhere to go. I earn my keep doing cleaning, fixing snacks and running errands for Madeleine and the girls. It takes my mind off things. Where would I go to if I have to leave – I wouldn’t know where to start. I have stayed awake all night some nights wondering what will happen – sometimes I think my face looks better – sometimes I just know that Madeleine’s only being kind – giving me a chance to get used to the idea that at the end of the month, I’m going to have to leave this place, and make it on my own.

 I’ve always had a cocaine habit – Madeleine understands – I only get some of the money I earn, the rest goes to feed my habit. I don’t think I can make it, with my face this way and no cocaine, out on the street, alone.

 I’ve already decided what I can do if it turns out that I can’t stay – I don’t want to go out there anymore – make a living on my own. No, I don’t have to do that – taking some pills would be better – it’s easy. That’s what I’m going to do if my face won’t fix up and I have to leave at the end of the month.

 Knowing I can do that makes me feel better, more in control – more relaxed, otherwise this waiting, not knowing would be just too scary for me – I can’t let go of Madeleine – there’s nothing else I can do.

 No, I’ve not told Madeleine how I feel – it’s got nothing to do with her. I’ll just wait and see what Madeleine thinks when it comes to the end of the month.

I used to have dreams about it – that I didn’t get there in time – the night that I walked into Simon’s room to find him with cocaine – his brother’s – he was going to use the lot. I still can’t believe how lucky I was to go in when I did – I knew that something had to be said but I was going to leave it until morning – every day I thank God that I didn’t – otherwise I’d be – do you realize that we don’t have a word for a parent who has lost a child – like widow or orphan – perhaps it means that we can’t handle it – I certainly couldn’t – I’m having enough trouble as it is and nothing even happened.

I remember that I just stood there like everything was slowed down – I tried to speak – it was a croak – I just said Simon – Don’t! He turned his back, I moved and whispered in his ear – Simon – please, we have to talk, I’m your father and I love you – Simon, please forgive me. Somehow that broke down a wall that had come between us, since they lost their mother. We cried that night, together – we’d never done that before.

It’s easy to blame it on losing their mother when they were only young – no one but me to turn to and often I wasn’t home. Had them in good care of course, but it was always people that I paid – not the same as family but it was the best that I could do. I guess I went into my shell when Mary passed away – never once thought about getting married again – never went out and played. No, I was a workaholic, it seemed to fill the time – the nannies had usually put the boy’s to bed by the time that I’d come home.

I suppose I was an absent father but I didn’t mean to neglect them – always enough money for everything they needed. It wasn’t that I didn’t take an interest in their schoolwork, or take them to sport when I could find the time at weekends –but I guess I was more like sergeant major stringing out demands than a father that they could feel loved by and come to with their problems.

I put them under pressure to perform at school, at sport – the older son Michael always did well –I couldn’t tell him enough how proud he made me feel – and expecting better next time. As for Simon he never did well, struggled to make grades – nothing to be proud of. I suppose you could say that I favored Michael – and made no secret of it. When talking about Simon I always made some apology – not the brightest, nothing special – I guess he took it to heart, unlike Michael who reveled in the glory of being the favored son.

That evening we were at a party – people all around – young Michael popular and the centre of attention. I was basking in parental pride when suddenly I heard Michael saying quite loudly yes, I’m Michael – the hopeless one, the failure in the family – followed by a laugh. I realized what Michael was doing – forcing a comparison, with his younger brother. I noticed people looking at Simon, he looked humiliated. I saw the triumph in Michael’s eyes. Simon’s face was a mask that barely contained his rage. Simon told me he was going home, turned and walked out of the house.

I grabbed Michael by the arm and virtually marched him down the street, – sent him to his room and said I would talk with him in the morning. In truth I didn’t know what to do. I was completely out of my depth. I decided to have it out with them both in the morning about what exactly was going on. Had a read of the paper and decided to go to bed. But on the way something made me go and check on Simon – thank God that I did.

Turned out that Michael was using cocaine and young Simon knew all about it. Michael had showed him but forbidden him to use or talk to anyone about it. They are brothers after all. So now I’ve come for help to sort this out – don’t know where to start – how can I start to be a good father – given this second chance.

My name is Emma. My mother hasn’t got long to live –  when the time comes, I’ll be going to stay with my grandma. I don’t want live with her – no way, she hates me, always has done. She’s picked on me all my life – comes around to my mother’s house just about every day now – moans and complains about everything – always picking on me. I’m sure it was her drove my Dad away – he left years ago. Later, grandma moved in for a while to help my mother. Bad mouthing all the time about my Dad, he wasn’t bad to me –when he was home – he’s a long distance trucker – comes to see me once in a while. No, Dad wasn’t bad to me.

 Wasn’t long after grandma moved in that my mother got real sick – went to hospital for a month – when she came back I nearly didn’t recognize her – she was all stooped over, her back was crooked, she had to walk with crutches. They reckon what did her back in was all the drugs she’s taken – cortisone for skin problems and lots of other things.

 Stays in bed most of the day – she gets her sister to come round and drop me off at school with her kids every morning. My aunt makes it quite obvious she thinks I’m just an added burden to all the problems that she has in her life. She used to take me to sport, but it got too difficult to organize so I had to stop.

But I always go to school, get up early so I won’t be late. I’m very careful not to annoy my aunt in case she might stop taking me down to the school.

 At least I got food when my mother was in hospital and my grandma was there, but for a whole month she did nothing but scold and shout at me for no reason, when I had done nothing wrong. After Mom came back from the hospital, one day they had a fight about something so grandma just upped and left. Since then it’s been just been Mom and me at home.

 Now Mom’s got sick again, grandma keeps on popping in to see how we are but refuses to come and stay, or help me with the housework.

 There’s never much food around – since my Dad walked out my mother has never bothered much about herself or taken an interest in me. She’s been using crack on and off for years – used to have people coming round, parties, but now that she’s got sick again – no one except grandma, and my aunt  come around to the house any more.

 Mom had been an addict when she met Dad – cleaned up she said, and had me – at least I wasn’t a crack baby. Just before Mom got sick again there was a week when all I had to eat was porridge – when the milk ran out, I had to mix it up with hot water. That’s the trouble with fortnightly paychecks – we never have any money at all every other week and by then any food we’ve saved usually is moldy.

 No, I can’t stand my grandma –she’s too much for me – I don’t want to go and live with her if anything happens to Mom. Keeps on at me now about going to school – says I have to study hard, make something of myself – not like my useless mother that has been a junkie since 14 and dropped out of school. I told grandma that Mom never got me pens or pencils, the teacher had helped me to order school books and get them on the free list. Grandma said don’t tell your troubles to me, I never had no schooling so I can’t help you there.

 I don’t want to study anyway. I think I only go to school to get myself out of the house. Can’t bring kids back home, not the way my mother is– the house is always in a mess. Now they say my mother could die – her lungs are all in holes – hooked up to oxygen 24/7 – it scares me to look at her in the face with those plastic tubes hooked up into her nose.

I am frightened of what’s going to happen to Mom – and what’s going to happen to me. Is there any chance do you think I could go and live with Dad – that would be the best thing ever. No way can I live with grandma – if they make me go there I reckon, whatever, I’d be better off on the street.