My Mom Is My Hero

My mom was always there. From the very beginning of my life, to the darkest days of my addiction, she believed in me. Whether things were good or they were horrible, she was with me. She was the one who took me to my first political rally, when I was only 10. She was my first photographer at public events: the photo credit to “Barbara Hampton” is my mom. When I was homeless, she’d find me wherever I was and bring me a home cooked meal so that I wouldn’t be hungry. This Mother’s Day weekend, I’m reflecting on the incredible gift of my mom’s love. I don’t believe that I would have survived heroin addiction without her. After my dad died in 2001, my mom raised my sisters and me by herself. When my prescription pill addiction upped the ante and suddenly the Oxycontin wasn’t enough, my mother watched me descend into IV heroin use. I was an active user for over a decade. In that time, I lost jobs, burned the bridges I’d built in my career, and was always broke. I ended up homeless and begging friends to let me stay on their couches. I was a mess. My mental illness, substance use disorder, completely controlled me. Through it all, my mother continued to show up for me, sometimes when I least expected it. She’s been a public school teacher for more than three decades, and she’s still working. She’s tough, for sure, but I tested all of her limits. Fortunately, my mom is a really spiritual, grounded person, and she was able to draw strength from her faith. Sh...
Source: Healthy Living - The Huffington Post - Category: Consumer Health News Source Type: news