“The ride (to rehab) was quiet. Xavier played a lot of tapes so we wouldn’t be able to talk much. And what could we say? All I could think was that Angie would snap out of this. She would get it right away; I was sure of it. How could this be happening anyway? I was certain I had been dreaming and would wake up from this nightmare. This sort of thing happens to other people’s children, I assured myself.
Angie was a Foreign Service brat. She was born in South America and moved easily from country to country, or so it seemed. When we lived in Greece, she competed in England with the gymnastics team. When we lived in Rome, a scout picked her to be in a movie. She was a shining star, and her outward accomplishments duped me into thinking she had a bright future. Oh boy, was I ready to take the credit! Ten years later, when she was twenty-one, I was completely unprepared when she started tumbling into the hell of drug addiction. I should have, but I didn’t see it coming. Oh boy, was I ready to take the blame.” excerpt from my award-winning memoir, A Mother’s Story: Angie Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, by Maggie C. Romero.
It has taken me sixteen years of 12-Step recovery to relieve myself of the guilt that acted as a roadblock not only in my own recovery but, so very tragically, in Angie’s. Guilt kept me pandering to her needs and enabling her at every turn. It put at risk all the healthy boundaries all parents need when dealing with this disease. My guilt and shame prevented her from facing the logical consequences of her behavior. Now she’s on her own in San Francisco, completely estranged from her family for almost six years. I pray she finds the motivation to reach for recovery as so many addicts do. Miracles happen every day. I know that inside the addict my daughter still lives, and I have hope that she’ll return to her family someday. I will always keep my hope alive and a warm place in my heart for Angie.