It hurt to open my eyes. I glanced at the man in the bed beside me and didn’t know how I got to the hotel or what had transpired. After being careful, I would have chewed my arm off because this was NOT the man I had in mind. I peeked out the window. There was my car. I drove in another drunken haze.

I was up and awake. My middle daughters phone stood silent, my younger daughters phone said “offline”, my son wasn’t home yet, so many instances I sat there. Wondering what I would do. I decided I would just be grateful they were okay and ask what the lesson was.

My mother hadn’t the luxury of cell phones and that raw pit of misery must have enveloped her so many times.

I was late, drinking as usual. I had just slit one wrist and was trying to think. My boyfriend wasn’t impressed with my deed. I was by myself. Left to my own devices was super dangerous as my coping mechanism was, to say the least, devastating my spirit.

I convinced my dad I was assaulted. I had been but not that night. It was just last year I spoke of it.

My dad was panicking and my mum was probably crying. Not too sure. The blackouts always came.

Before I got home I took some glass and ran it down the side of my face and rubbed sand all over. The scars were already adding up. I said I didn’t know who.

I should have known this would not wash. My father was just going to call the police and have all ferry traffic halted. He said “one way into town, one way out.”

I fessed up after an hour or torturing my parents. I got kind of a high from it. Thinking, now if I told them about what had happened it wouldn’t be believed.

I was right.

My two young children were given a crappy mom. I would hide booze everywhere. In the bathroom, back of cupboards.

Once I locked myself out of my trailer. My sons were inside. I had to leave and get my landlord. I started to notice people’s faces by then. I shook it off and told myself the vodka had no odour. This is completely false by the way. I made my way back from next door and both boys were just looking at me through the window. Trusting me, and that was heartbreaking.

A woman came up to me and uttered the words I hated “do you remember me?” It was always big and never good news. Like I had given to a great charity and God would bless me with a bounty.

He did and I know I didn’t deserve it. My bounty was little souls. The results were amazing. I look at my grandbabies and grown healthy family and am humbled.

As a mother tho it’s hard to see, listen or witness their pain of growing up.

I don’t know what my mom would have done if we had social media. I would have been a star so many times.

Today my stress is watching mistakes and basically gang mentality. Lets hit someone while they’re down and judge every step of the way.

I am not innocent of this either. I have gossiped and put down others. I didn’t forgive. Stayed mad.

At the end of my drinking carreer I was volitile. I was sober but my fury made me a ticking bomb.

Addiction is a fickle and tricky thing. It will eat up all the good and push away people you’ll need.

I promise to be supportive. I hope you do too. Take the person out of the behaviour. That isn’t a cop out either, the responsibility is still ours. To say sorry mean it and agree to move on.

Today I was terrified and went on. I drove a bus down a logging road and the highway. I was so tense I am still sore. I have to do another long trip. Life is hard but so are we.

Like what you read? Give Jana Marie a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.