Matters of the Heart
Child of an Addict
Timia Carruthers
Copyright © 2017 Timia Carruthers
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1546872795
ISBN-13:978-1546872795
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First, and foremost, I have to thank God for keeping me. He is my everything and without Him I don't even want to imagine where I would and could be. This book was not the beginning nor the ending of my healing but, yet, it was birthed in the turmoil of my ongoing recovery process.
To my husband and my children, thank you for enduring my hours of solitude and emotional breakdowns. They were needed and very necessary for me to start and finish this process. I love you all beyond any word Webster’s Dictionary defines.
And lastly, to the ones who have listened to me in the midst of my dysfunction, and maybe, wiped a tear away, thank you for your ear as well as your shoulder. Your kindness and love has not gone unnoticed.
-TC
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
Preface
6
Chapter ONE
7
Chapter TWO
16
Chapter THREE
29
Chapter FOUR
39
Chapter FIVE
48
Chapter SIX
71
Chapter SEVEN
79
Chapter EIGHT
90
Chapter NINE
107
Chapter TEN
120
Chapter ELEVEN
129
Chapter TWELVE
146
Chapter THIRTEEN
157
Epilogue
173
Preface
Often discouraged, yet not defeated. Cast down, but not destroyed. People spend most of their lives having no understanding of how their past affects their present situations. But through all the hours and years of loneliness, disappointment, and struggles, if they remember that if they only keep the faith of a mustard seed and continue to P.U.S.H. (Pray Until Something Happens) one day, one hour, one minute, one unexpected second, their hearts, minds, and souls would be at peace with what they have come to know as life.
As I take you on the journey of Mrs. Tiffany Newton’s generational curses and lifelong addictions, as a soul longing and looking for love in all the wrong places, know that I am writing not only for myself, but I pray that it may encourage you to believe and know that there are better days ahead and your later days shall be greater! Yes, there will be days when you are pushed back to those dark days and hours, but it is in those moments when you have no idea where your strength will come from, that I promise you, if you ask Him in good faith, He will answer you in a clear voice and the SON will shine.
Matters of The Heart …. Child of an Addict
CHAPTER 1
A t an early age, Tiffany realized that all was not fair, happy, honest, loving, caring, compassionate nor holy. She used to sit and wonder- and if she’s being honest with herself, she still wonders, why He would even allow her to come into existence. How could He birth her into such confusion, chaos, crisis and dysfunction? He’s supposed to be a just God. One who sits high and looks low. The One we sing about in Sunday school loving all the little children of the world, yet it definitely didn’t feel like love. Was she receiving the punishments of the generations before her? Her grandmother, great grandmother, her own mother’s wrongdoings? Why would God allow her to see the things she saw, feel the pain she felt, and go through all the trials and tribulations of adulthood all before she was able to obtain a work permit?
Tammy, Tiffany’s mother, was so young and beautiful; standing 5 feet 3 inches tall with brown eyes, long black flowing hair, a Coke bottle figure, skin like satin sheets, and the personality of a butterfly. So, creative and outgoing she was, the cousin and friend everyone loved. She had the ability to be whatever she wanted. Using her creativity, she could have easily been the next Martha Stewart. Her poise and beauty could have led her to be the next top model, and yet her focus and determination could have very well afforded her the name of valedictorian of her high school class. But no, God, You chose to take Tammy in a totally different direction. It wasn’t until Tiffany was formed in her womb- or so she thought, that she managed to make one bad decision after the next; allowing men to use her body as a deposit box, using her own mind as a tool of manipulation and deception. Not to mention her own family using her as an object of exchange. Ultimately leading her to find what she thought was happiness, comfort, safety and love in an addiction that not only affected her, but would impact the life of her child forever.
Tiffany always knew there was more to the instant feelings uneasiness she felt when she would come across certain situations and people. It was like the chill of death or the hawk of the devil when she felt it. It would send chills down her spine. As a child, she would simply close her eyes tightly and wrap her arms around herself and squeeze just as tightly until the feeling would pass. Like her mother, Tiffany was also beautiful, standing 5 feet 6 inches tall with the same long, thick, black hair and light caramel complexion. Her eyes were an alluring shade of light brown. The curves of her body would command the attention of any room she graced with her presence.
Yes, Tiffany Newton was a woman of many hats- wife, mother, daughter, owner and operator of her own small business, team mom, friend, and lastly, a strong black woman. She was the one who had it all together on the outside; always willing to help anyone in need, always keeping a smile on her face and, most of all, addressing people with a tone of confidence and clarity. She was the one family called on to do things to pick up the slack of others. She was the one who took others’ kids in because she never wanted a child to feel alone or unloved. She was the one that pulled the family together when there seemed to be a disconnect. But in her quiet time, she became a timid little girl who struggled with deep scars and hidden wounds made up of years of disappointment and pain inflicted by the ones who were supposed to love her the most.
Growing up in the inner city and attending public school, Tiffany’s great-grandmother May did her best to shield her from her environment. The drug infested, low income area in which they lived was sometimes more dangerous than anything you could ever imagine. At any given point, you could find an addict on the street corner asking for money for food- they would say. Or a young child running the streets unattended or boys not old enough to graduate from high school driving vehicles a man who works a 40 hour a week job and has saved for months should have. Lying at the foot of her Granny’s bed, Tiffany could regularly feel the vibrations of the windows on the house from cars with speakers as big as the trunk. The neighbors across the street drank from sun up to sun down, you were guaranteed to see at least one or two fights a week. Or how about the house a few doors down that had a heavy flow of traffic 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Even with the church two blocks down that seemed to have a convention every month, young men always seemed to find their way down the street to Tiffany only to ask her if she can walk two blocks over to 7-11 so they can be mannish while holding her hand, asking for kisses, and rubbing on her body.
There was a sprinkle of hope on Ruckle Street, and he was called the ‘Alright Man’. He would always be dressed as if he were going to church; dress slacks, a collar shirt, dress shoes and a hat. Everyone in the neighborhood knew exactly who he was and anticipated him saying “Everythang gon be-!” He would wait in anticipation for the response, ‘Alright!’ He ended by saying “Alright, alright,” not realizing that he was sending a message of hope and endurance to his people. Reflecting on it now as an adult, Tiffany realized that
he saw the bad but had faith that one day all would be well. What Tiffany didn’t know as a child was that all the things she was being shielded from on the outside was happening right under her nose- in the comforts of her own home.
From the very first day Tiffany was brought home from the hospital, she was her great-grandmother May’s pride and joy. May ate, slept, and even breathed with Tiffany in the forefront of her thoughts. Tiffany was her everything. Their household consisted of May, May’s 3rd husband Jimmy, and Tiffany. There were frequent visits from May’s only child Sandra, as well as and Sandra’s two daughters Tammy, who is Tiffany’s estranged mother, and Yavon the younger of Sandra’s two girls. There was definitely a village- whether or not they were there to help raise the child, well, that’s a horse of a different color.
Although May did her best to keep the problems of her immediate family out of sight, she knew there would come a day when she would no longer be able to hide them from the child she tried so desperately to keep them from. She kept Tiffany’s life on a schedule and made sure she didn’t want or need for anything in hopes that it would prolong the inevitable.
Monday through Friday, May would cook breakfast; eggs, bacon, toast, a cup of 2% milk, and a glass of no pulp orange juice. During the winter months, breakfast would be accompanied by a spoonful of Father’s John to keep the chest colds away. Every other week they made their visit to see Dr. Chung to get Tiffany’s allergy shots. On Saturdays, it was Tiffany’s chore to get up and go around the house with an ashtray and pick up anything from the floor she saw to earn money to put in her piggy bank. At the end of the month they would count the money up, put it into her little Miss Piggy purse, and take it to the bank and deposit it into her squirrel account. Fridays consisted of fried fish, Hee Haw and Sha Na Na. Saturday was grocery store day. The first stop would be Safeway, then on to the meat market, and the last stop would be the 7-Eleven. They would then head home to pick greens and prep for Sunday dinner. May would keep little things around the house for her like Werther’s Original candies in almost every room of the house. And Tiffany could always find a jar of carrots and celery to snack on along with a cap of juice and water bottle full of ice cold water in the refrigerator. It was these small things that turned out to be the biggest and most appreciated things in her life.
The bond between the two was unbreakable. They knew it and anyone who knew the two knew it. The bond was so great that even Sandra was jealous of what the two shared. It was the same mother/daughter bond that she wished she wouldn’t have broken when she chose the streets over her family. Even Tammy was envious of the relationship, being that she was the first grandchild, and even after her baby sister Yavon was born, she seemed to think she maintained her number one spot. Tiffany only saw May in one way and one way only- her mother, and Tammy knew that.
Tammy also chose the streets over her family. But this choice altered Tammy in ways she never imagined. She had chosen to walk behind the footsteps of her mother. Her choices didn’t mirror the footsteps of the ones Sandra took which kept their relationship toxic, instead Tammy was unable to form any bond with Tiffany-toxic or not. It was true that she was fully capable of making the right decisions, but she had come to find out that saying yes was much easier than saying no. The street life had panned out to be one that amounted to several criminal charges between the mother and daughter including theft, possession of cocaine, prostitution, receiving stolen property, and possession with the intent to sell, just to name a few. Tammy, being fortunate enough not to have spent any real time behind bars, always managed to get off with a misdemeanor and probation. Sandra, on the other hand, had spent ample time in and out of jail with two visits to prison- one being a lengthy 9-year sentence.
Tiffany in her innocence as a young child rolled with the punches not knowing that everything she was seeing would become the very foundation she would build her life on. The very things that she paid no attention to, the things she used to question as she laid in bed at night, the places she used to visit with her great-grandmother, the disagreements between her grandmothers she caught wind of while sitting in her room playing, and most of all, the unanswered questions that no young child should ever have to ask themselves and wonder like “Why doesn’t she love me? What did I do to make her not want me?” Much later in life she would find out that her mother did indeed love her, she just didn’t know how to show her because her mother didn’t show her and first Tammy had to learn to love herself before she could begin to love anyone else.
Chapter 2
I t was 11:30pm on Friday, it had been a long and stressful day for Tiffany. It started with a 6:15am doctor appointment, not one, but two clients calling to change appointment times, laundry, her weekly visit to the grocery store, 3 diaper cake deliveries, her sons’ football game, and 3 dozen cupcakes that needed to be done by a 10am parent meeting the following morning. But through all the hassle of the day, Tiffany remembered it was September 8th, the day her life changed forever. It was the anniversary of May’s death. On this day every year no matter what, Tiffany would take the time to go to the grave yard for alone time with her Granny. It seemed as though no matter what was going on in her life, every year about a week before that day, May would send her signs that she was still with her. Ladybugs would begin appearing in odd places. The faint touch of the wind on her cheek felt as if May was kissing her ever so gently. People would ask her, “Why do you go to the grave yard? She isn’t there.” This statement would infuriate her but her answer would always be the same, “Because I feel closest to her there, it is where I left her to rest.” Yes, she felt her presence in other places, but there was just something about sitting there that brought her peace and comfort. It was about 1:30am Saturday and Tiffany could finally see the light; while all the cupcakes were cooling, she cleaned the kitchen and rested on the couch until it was time to ice them. But she was so exhausted from the day, she was in dreamland before she could push play to watch the day’s episode of The Young & The Restless- something she and May did every day until she moved out and, even then, they would speak every day to talk about it.
REM sleep came within minutes of Tiffany’s eyes closing. And just like a loaded pistol, she was right back to her dark places. The places that made her feel like an undeserving child. Much like other dreams she had, this one would leave her with unanswered questions and a whirlwind of emotions. It had been almost 2 months since Tammy had popped in on Tiffany, so just like any other time, she started asking May questions.
“Granny have you talked to my Mommy?”
“No, baby, I haven’t.”
“Has she called me? Can I call her?”
“No, baby, she hasn’t called and I don’t have her new number.”
After she received her answers, she would pull her head under the cover as if she was shielding herself from the world and nestled her head in the cress of May’s back and went to sleep not knowing what the night would bring.
The doorbell was ringing rapidly and the knocks on the door became louder and louder as if someone was running from the devil himself. May jumped up to answer it telling Tiffany, “Stay here, baby, Granny will be right back.”
“Stop ringing that damn bell!” May shouted with authority in her voice, “I’m coming!” It took her a minute to find her slippers and robe in the dark, but finally she did. After stepping into the hallway and flipping on the light, she was able to start her journey down the 22 steps to open the door. Fussing every step of the way, she was 99.99 percent sure she knew the late-night caller that stood at her door step and, sure enough, when she flipped the porch light on and pulled the shade to the side, she found herself staring her only child in her fully dilated pupils. May said a quick prayer, “Lord Jesus help me, I need you right now God.” She knew that her child was high, and with that, comes Sandra’s anger, aggression, pain, frustration, failures, and self-worthlessness. She knew when she opened the door she would have to put on the armor of God to take what she was about to enc
ounter with her daughter. May opened the door and moved to the side so that her frail stature could come inside.
“Hello, Mother,” she said as she walked through the door and headed up the stairs.
“Sandra...” May said starting up the stairs behind her. As they approached the final few steps, Sandra noticed a tiny pug nose peeking around the corner.
“Hey Tiff, come give Mama San some sugah.”
“Tiffany!” May shouted, “Didn’t I tell you to stay in bed? I told you I would be right back!”
Tiffany scolded herself and gave her grandmother the kiss she requested and ran back into the bedroom to jump back in bed before May came back. As Tiffany climbed back into bed, the visual of Sandra was in her head. She wondered why she looked so excited... maybe she had just come from a party with her friends. That would explain why she was so worn and tired looking. Maybe she had been working all day and that’s why her sleeves were rolled up. Or maybe she was playing with a puppy or a kitten and that’s why she has the red scratches on her arms. All of Tiffany’s thoughts vanished immediately when she heard yelling coming from the living room. This was very odd because Sandra would normally come in and go straight into her routine as if she did it daily when she got off a long twelve-hour shift. She would come in and go directly to the bathroom to take a hot bath and brush her teeth. Then on to the kitchen to eat like there was no tomorrow. Whether it was Rice Krispies cereal with half and half, sardines with crackers, and sliced onions, or hogshead cheese and lunch meat, best believe there was none left when she was finished.
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