Wednesday, February 9, 2011


*Warning this story is about a life of addiction and family*

Hearing the news about my dad this past Sunday morning did take me by surprise. Considering this kind of situation with my dad is complete normal behavior for him you’d think it wouldn’t be a surprise to me.

Growing up having an addict for a father was confusing, dysfunctional, lonely and emotional. Having an addict as a father as an adult is stress, heart ache, anxiety, anger and worry.

My dad is addicted to crack…

Whoa! I said it; I actually put that in writing?! I felt like it was a confession, I feel embarrassed and ashamed. I know these feelings are completely normal, and I have no reason to be ashamed. Ugh!

Growing up my mother protected us from knowing of my father’s addictions. My mother has always been a single parent, even when she was married to my father. My dad spent most, if not all of my childhood being an addict, going in and out of rehab and sometimes jail. I remember him being gone all the time, sometimes for days out with his “friends”. My younger siblings did not have him around at all compared to what my older sister and I had. My mother finally had enough after 19 years of marriage and 4 children, she divorced him. Later on in my life I learned my dad was dealing drugs (crack) and it was putting our family in danger. My mother is a strong Christian woman and she raised us 4 kids to be loving, forgiving and generous people. I believe my mother loved my dad so much she was willing to stay and just pray that he would one day change, if not for him but for us. We are blessed to have a mom who never once touched drugs or became an addict. Who knows what life would be like if she did?

After the divorce my dad’s addiction got worse, he lost his job, home, car and family. My father has been a homeless man for the past 12 years, if he wasn’t on the streets he was staying with “friends”, shelters, or with me or my sisters.

When I was 19 years old my father came to me after a 2 month stay at the county jail. From that point on I helped him out with money, food and shelter. Even after I moved, got married and had my first baby, my dad was still my responsibility, or so I thought. He would disappear for weeks and then show up out of the blue and crash for a day and leave again for weeks. Ryder was 2 months old and it was time for us to move into the home we just bought and it was time to let my dad know he would not be coming with.

to be continued with part two tomorrow....

* I found myself hesitating before I could click the PUBLISH POST button, here goes nothing*

1 comment:

  1. I think its therapeutic to write about it. Soooo many people will identify with this to some extent. Credit to your mom for raising such a lovely lady.