My Mother

Even though my Mother was supposed to be on Methadone, I knew she was using heroin, and whatever else she could get her hands on. I used to find needles all around the house, and when I would throw them away they would soon be replaced. I found little black containers with used needles and tea spoons. I wasn't stupid. I knew what they were for.
Mum was always on the nod. I remember always telling her to wake up. I hated it so much. Everytime we caught a bus we'd go past our stop because I would be trying to wake her up the whole time.
If it wasn't heroin, it was sleeping pills. If it wasn't sleeping pills, it was alcohol. Usually it was all three at once.
Mum had a habit of trying to kill herself. I became somewhat of a babysitter. I was always around so that I could be there to call an ambulance when needed. I have lost count of the times Mum over dosed on sleeping pills and slit her wrists. A lot of the time she was nearly successful. If it hadn't been for me she wouldn't be here today. I sat by her side while she was in coma after coma. Some lasted up to 3 weeks. I am amazed she's not brain dead. I went to our local doctor one day and told him to stop prescribing her sleeping pills and he just laughed at me. I was crying and begging him but he showed me no empathy what so ever. My Mum continued her suicide attempts.