by Emma K. Jones

Created on: January 19, 2009   Last Updated: May 11, 2010

Out the door she goes. Off with friends while her son stays with me. He is used to it. She has been gone for five months so what difference does it make? I envy him in a way. His innocence keeps him naive. I used to be that way. But the last two years have robbed me of that naiveness. I thought I knew a lot about addiction but I was wrong.

She's home again. Home again with new plans and new promises. She try's to reassure me that this time it will be different. I have heard that before. I am so afraid. I can't seem to let go of the anger and the dread that fills me when I hear her doing something familiar. When I see her on MySpace or hear the phone vibrating with a text message, I become consumed with disappointment, as I fear she is going back to the old way.

As I think back over the past two years my mind winces at the pain. My daughter is bi-polar and has been making poor choices that have effected her life as well as mine. The latest crime of her mental illness included addiction and trouble with the law. As a result, she was court ordered to five months in a state treatment center for a probation violation.

The rest of the family has paid for her crime as well. I took in my three-year-old grandson and became his mother. I have tolerated many court dates and home visits and have led a life under scrutiny for the past five months. All the while, trying to meet the needs of my ten year old son who has grown to resent his older sister. We have devoted every Saturday to visit her three hours away from our home and anticipated a joyful reunion. Her letters were filled with remorse and begged for my forgiveness.

She's been home one week. Each day home, she moves closer to the things that she knows tempt her. I see her walking the fine line and I am so scared. For her and for me. When will she fall into the well of despair? Just a phone call with people she used with. Just an evening out with friends and staying out a little past curfew. Just one pill so as not to be detected. Inch by inch, deed by deed.

I swallow my feelings but it seeps out as anger. I don't have the nerve to stand up to her for fear of her wrath. But slowly, the wrongs of her actions take hold of me and the anger is unleashed. Ironically, it is always at others. Never her.

It's a sick family illness. Addiction not only has a hold of her but it has its deathly grip on all of us as well. It is inevitable that I will lose my identity, my financial security, my family and my happiness to try to

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