Trigger Warning: Addiction, Drug Use

Good day Beautiful Butterflies, Marvellous Moths, Dazzling Dragonflies, Fabulous Fairies, and Angelic Angels: 

I have a bit of a rant today. 

I honestly am not here to hate on men. I’m Angel. I adore men.

 I LOVE MEN. Ask anyone. 

Sometimes in life though, we see patterns happen over and over, that we can’t just ignore. I wanted to throw something out there today that has bothered me since I was in my teens. 

Let me start by saying this: 

My children both have the same father. He was an excellent father to them when we were together. We were together for 10 years. We had our own issues as a couple. We had our own issues as individuals. Today, he sees our children and is a very good father. He has been seeing them for several years now. He has been supportive of me being back in their lives as well. 

I am in no way saying anything negative towards his character.

That being said… 

Let’s go!!! 


It really seems to me that fathers can be absent for years. They can be separated from children for decades. Fathers can be fall down fathers right in front of their children. Most… not at all… most children… teenagers… young adults will accept their fathers back into their lives and forgive them. 

If a mother does something in which she then has to leave her children and her children are old enough to know she has had to leave because she did something she shouldn’t have…most of these children will not forgive her. Maybe, a few will come back to her down the road… years down the road. 


My children were young when their father and I broke up. He left. He didn’t pay any child support. I was young too. I had no high school diploma. I had no job. I worked in strip clubs since I had turned 18… But that strip club job… it had paid the rent… it had bought the food… it had paid for daycare… it had paid for car insurance… it had bought the damn car… it had bought diapers… it had bought all the clothes on the backs of everyone in that apartment… we would have been sitting on the floor had it not been for that strip club job. I’m grateful every day for that job. 

I finally got my GED; then I got my Cosmetology license. 

We broke up. 


Soon I got some legal diplomas. 

Eventually, I made the worst mistake a mother could make. 

I overdosed with my children in my home. 


I hadn’t been getting high for very long. 

4 weeks at most. 

I really had no idea what I was doing. 

I had finally told my older child what was happening. They were almost of adulthood and were asking constant questions with the utmost concern. In complete disgust with myself, I broke down with the truth one night. 

Promising to go to detox, I told my husband that night that I was getting clean. I called and got a bed in a detox facility for a few nights later. 

When I woke up I was apparently a newly separated woman. Newly separated. Newly sober.  Newly sick… 

I thought it would be easy. 

I wasn’t an addict. 

I just had to go away, sleep for a few days, eat. I’ll be fine. 

I made it 2 days. 

The next thing… 

Horror beyond horror. 


I had no idea how to insert a syringe. I had never done it myself before. I had watched my husband do it to me over & over & over on a daily basis for 4 weeks. I had no idea how to do it. 

I tried. 

I missed. 

I tried again. 

I missed. 

I loaded it big. 

If I missed, maybe I’d get some in. 

I hit it… 

Oh shit… 

I hit it… 




Fuzzy eyes… 


I can hear my heartbeat 

I can taste my heartbeat 

I am floating 

This is not right. 

I haven’t felt like this before. 


Now everything is scary. 

I’m scared. 

What should I do? 

I have to call 911. 

I am overdosing. 

I am overdosing and my kids are here. 







There are no other words. 

Many, many, many years later and I’m finally getting a beginning to a relationship with one of my children. 

What I did was unforgivable. 

I am grateful that I am getting any chance at all. 


Is it possible that our brains are hardwired to give our maternal connection more responsibility than our paternal connection? 

Is it instinct to allow the paternal relationship to become stagnant at any point and then reconnect without prejudice, however, the maternal relationship must maintain a strong natural healthy balanced regulated normal bond in order for the relationship to develop in the same manner… 


And that day when my father looked back at me… 

I remember he wasn’t smiling… 

…And now when I look back at days with my father… 

I remember to smile.”