Today I’m welcoming a friend from Twitter who I contacted for a guest post.

Please welcome @DeborahCAN warmly as she shares her heart with us here.


I Know Why This Caged Bird Hasn’t Sung

My name is Deborah.
I am an Addict.
I am a Mommy.
I am a Survivor.
I am a Writer who has gone silent for too long.

Given the opportunity to share a piece of me had left me silent…. musing over what to say and how to say it. I am seldom silent. Upon introspection I have come to realize this free bird has been far from free. While I am proud of what I have overcome and where I am today, I am still sick. I still fear harming those that I love. To share a piece of my puzzle would be to open the cage door and sing. To share just a few pieces of events that have created me requires a vulnerability that is frightening.

I am an addict in recovery. I know what it is like to live to use and use to live. The last few years of my life have been a roller coaster of emotion and spiritual awakenings that I never knew were possible. The disease of addiction took hold of me at 30 yrs old. I know what it is like to need a drug in order to be a Mommy. I know what true, complete, and total spiritual bankruptcy feels like. I know what it is like to pray for death.

I was the agreeable child. The peacemaker. My co-dependent world revolved around the men and trying to keep a semblance of peace in a land of chaos and discontent. I was taught my physical attributes would be the key to attaining my needs and wants. I have felt the knot in the pit of my stomach for as long as I can remember.

I quickly sought similar validation from a boy and, when facing a new form of abuse, struggled to re-gain control; to fix the new imbalance. I had to learn to be a Mamma at 15 and by learning to be a Mamma I broke the chain of physical violence. I refused to let my daughter know that cycle. Milestones and accomplishments I should have never statistically attained came and went. In time, I found someone who loved me as I was and without violence. I was happy. I strove for perfection. I am not perfect. I soon found the answers in a pill. A pill to help me on my quest for perfection. I continued to numb the hurts of my past. I was addicted.

Mamma, Mommy, Wife, Daughter, Sister, Friend…. all became inconsequential. Just keep the pain away. My pride would not allow me to ask for help. I was to find the way out on my own as I had so many times before. Pride goeth before the fall. So I fell. And I fell. And I fell. I took the hand that reached out. I fell again. The hand reached out again.

I have learned that this addict will use everything and anything to be numb. Drugs, money, food, lack of food, sex, people, chaos: I can no longer be numb. Today I feel. Today I love. Today I forgive. Today I extend my hand to the fallen. Today I am a Mamma and a Mommy and a Wife. I am a Daughter, a Sister, and a Friend.

Today I am a writer and I am singing. My name is Deborah and I am an Addict.

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9 Responses

  1. Hi Deborah, thanks for sharing your story and not keeping quiet. You have the potential to help so many other women by sharing your story. Including me! Happy holidays. :)

  2. I continue to be proud of you and your accomplishments! I loved what you wrote, and hope others obtain motivation from it. You are a very special human being and a great daughter!


  3. Deborah: this is beautifully written. I am so proud of you. You are a remarkable woman who I love and respect very much. Be good to yourself, your family and your friends this holiday season! And remember there are so many people who love and support you. Xoxoxoxo

  4. I can hear you singing! Thank you for sharing your experience, strength and hope. I’m glad our paths have crossed and I look forward to getting to know you better.

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