Child of an Addict

by Timia Carruthers

  And, just as Tiffany does any time someone gives her a compliment, she looked away to avoid making eye contact, but smiled and said “Well, thank you so much.” After noticing Tiffany’s response, the woman reached into her jacket pocket and handed her a business card and simply said “Call me, beautiful, I would love to help you.” Then she hugged her and walked away. Baffled by what had just happened, she looked at the card that was placed in her hand. Mrs. Phylicia Brown, Senior Counselor of Self-Worth Counseling Solutions. Once she read the card, she looked up to catch the woman that just stood before her, but she was nowhere in sight.

  After finding the card, Tiffany stared at it until she found enough courage to pick up the phone and dial the number. Praying that no one answered- she just wanted to leave a message and move on with the day, but as soon as the phone hit the fourth ring she heard, “Good morning, this is Phylicia, how may I help you?” Tiffany felt anxiety creeping up in the pit of her stomach and, for a brief moment, was unable to speak.

  “Hello, is anyone there?”

  “Hello, yes, my name is Tiffany Newton. We met at the M.A.C. counter awhile back and you gave me your card.”

  “Oh yes, I remember you all too well. What can I do for you beautiful?”

  “Well, I was wondering if I could possibly make an appointment to come in and talk to you?”

  “Absolutely. Can you be here at one?”

  “Today?”

  “Yes, ma’am. No need to delay your process any longer than you have.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean by that, but sure, I can be there at one. Thank you for working me in on such short notice.”

  “Mrs. Newton, it’s not short notice. Someone greater than you and I both knew the date and the hour that you were coming into my office and left that one o’clock appointment open and readily available for only you. So, in essence, your name was there the whole time. I just have to make it visible to the human eye. See you soon and please bring your insurance card and ID with you.”

  With a look of disbelief on her face, Tiffany simply responded with, “Yes ma’am,” and hung up the phone.

  Not sure what to think about what she will encounter in her session with Mrs. Brown, Tiffany began to talk herself out of it, but realized it was time to head out to make her deliveries before heading to Mrs. Brown’s office.

  ***

  She arrived about fifteen minutes early and her panic attack was an eight on a scale of one to ten, and steady rising. Her hands were sweaty, her heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest, and she was pretty sure she was about to pass out. She knew she had to pull herself together, so she grabbed her purse and frantically looked for her inhaler. She took two puffs and turned on the CD player. She kept “For Every Mountain” queued up as one of her go-to songs. She closed her eyes and prayed that God would remove the fear from her heart, as she knew fear and faith could not dwell together, and today, she was indeed, stepping out on her foundation of faith. Yet she was still uneasy about the words that would be exchanged, the unspoken truths that may be told, and the inner demons and emotions that she had worked and trained herself so hard to cover up and hide, could very well show themselves. She knew if any of that happened, she would not be in control and her life, as she had come to know it, would surely crumble before her.

  Her breathing was back to normal and the time was 12:55pm, Tiffany had just enough time to wipe away the tears and fix her eyeliner, freshen up her lip glass, and fix her hair. She picked up her purse, took one last look at herself and said “I can do this!” When she turned to open the door, she was in awe of what she saw. A single tear rolled down her cheek and a smile appeared on her face. A ladybug, it was the sign she had just prayed for. She knew her great-grandmother was right there with her and everything would be ok. Tiffany opened the door to the office building and walked in to the oh-so-familiar place. Her childhood memories started to flood her mind. It was the same building May brought her to see her pediatrician Dr. Chung for her checkups and allergy shots. When Tiffany stepped onto the elevator, she was accompanied by a couple who seemed to be under the influence. The two didn’t appear to be older than high schoolers. The young man asked what floor she needed and Tiffany responded and said, “Seven please.” She noticed he had pushed ten and then she recalled the directory saying the rehab and methadone clinic was located there. She immediately said a quick prayer for them and any children the two may have had. The elevator door opened and exposed the riders to the seventh floor. Tiffany, feeling the fear and anxiety creeping back up in her chest, took a deep breath, stepped out of the elevator, and stared at Suite 777. A feeling of comfort came over her. “The number of completion,” she thought. “Ok God, I see you.” She took yet another deep breath and exhaled slowly as she knew she was opening the door to the chapters of her she had only glimpsed through in the different stages and situations of her growing pains. It was now time for her to open the book read it, let it resonate, understand it in its entirety, acknowledge and accept it because the final exam was the hardest of them all. It was entitled forgiveness and closure.

  As soon as she walked through the door, Mrs. Brown greeted her, “Hello Mrs. Newton. You look as beautiful as you did the day I saw you. Come on in, let me show you to my Recovery Room.”

  “Thank you so much, Mrs. Brown.” Tiffany couldn’t help but to wonder what the Recovery Room was. The office was nothing like she imagined it to be; a big open room with a wall full of books, a huge desk with a leather chair, and a big ass chaise to lie on and tell all your problems is what she expected. But what she walked into was totally opposite. The waiting room was a calm, peaceful space with a chair, loveseat, and Daily Word booklets to ponder over while you waited to be seen. There was instrumental gospel music playing over the offices intercom system and the entire office was filled with a relaxing lavender vanilla scent. Mrs. Brown lead Tiffany down a hallway to a room with an appearance of what one would think is their grandmother’s family room. You know the one; with the plastic covers on the furniture that could only be sat in on holidays or when people died. There were large plants throughout the room, a couch full of large pillows, and two oversized chairs.

  “Come on in and have a seat, Mrs. Newton, let’s get acquainted.” Tiffany found her place at the very end of the couch sat her purse beside her and unknowingly grabbed a pillow for comfort. “So, I’m sure you have a few questions for me, Mrs. Newton. Let’s go ahead and get those out of the way.” Tiffany went to her inner thoughts before speaking, who is this lady and where are the cameras?

  “Well, as a matter of fact, I do. I’ll start with the easy one first; what’s the Recovery Room and why do I need to go in there?”

  “Well, love, the Recovery Room is just what it says. It’s where you go to recover from a procedure.”

  “But I haven’t had one.”

  “But your about to.”

  With a look of perplexity Tiffany said, “What does that mean?”

  “It means we are about to go into treatment for your core trauma: the matters of your heart that need to be retrieved, reopened, and reevaluated in order for you to properly recover.” With that statement, Tiffany felt like she was the scared little girl yet again. The last thing she wanted to do was go back to her childhood and adolescent years to relive or reopen anything. All she came to do was talk about what was at the surface of her thoughts. She quickly dismissed her thoughts and moved to her next question. “Why did you give me your card that day, and most importantly, what did you mean by saying you wanted to help me?”

  “Now that’s the one I was waiting on,” Ms. Brown said with a half corner of a smile, one eyebrow up and head tilted over to one side looking right into Tiffany’s eyes she responded. “Are you comfortable?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Good, this may take a minute. When you walked up to the counter, I noticed your poise and beauty, yet there was something that drew my sprit to you and that is why I walked over to you and said
what I did. The confirmation for me was your response to my compliment. You responded but looked away. Me being the person I am, accompanied with the profession I’m in, realized I was standing in front of a beautifully flawed and broken woman. You see when you are broken, bothered, bruised, bitter, battered and betrayed on the inside, no matter how you bandage it up with, your outward appearance, your reality still spills through in ways you pay no attention to. That being said, Mrs. Newton, tell me what has you in bondage? Let’s figure out what we need to do to begin your recovery.” Tiffany didn’t know where to start and it seemed as though Mrs. Brown knew it so she began the process for her. “Tell me a little bit about who Tiffany is and where she comes from.”

  Ok, that’s fair, Tiffany thought to herself. “Well, I’m married to my high school sweetheart and we have four beautiful children. I have my own event planning business and my husband has been on his job for over 15 years. As far as my upbringing goes, it was one of many challenges. I was raised by my great-grandmother-

  “Wow!” Mrs. Brown exclaimed, cutting Tiffany off. “I hear of folks being raised by their grandmothers, but not often do you hear of someone being raised by their great-grandmother, that’s awesome. Tell me more about that, how did you end up with her?”

  “Well, my mother was a teen mom so when she gave birth, my great-grandmother took on the responsibility because my grandmother was not ready to be a grandmother. She was just starting to get her freedom back from being a parent. Needless to say, my bond with my great-grandmother was a mother/daughter bond and I just never left her.”

  “Where were your parents?”

  Before Tiffany answered, she noticed Mrs. Brown had opened up what seemed to be a file folder that had some kind of form on the inside of it and had begun to take note. She felt uneasy about it but took a deep breath and answered by saying, “As I got older, my mother got involved with the street life. My father was into it well before I was born, from what I know.”

  “Without you saying another word, I can imagine you are struggling with some abandonment issues. Would that be an accurate assumption?”

  Tiffany had never verbally spoken her truths so as she opened her mouth to speak such a simple word, her heart started to skip beats and the tears began to fall. Mrs. Brown handed her a box of tissue and spoke to her in a tone that a mother would use when soothing a child, “Take your time.”

  Tiffany wiped away her tears and softly said “Yes.”

  “Let’s talk about that for a minute.” Anxiety rushed through Tiffany’s body because she knew all her emotions were coming to surface and once they were out in the atmosphere there was no way to take them back. The feeling of being in control of her life that has taken her years to learn and conquer, the walls and barriers that she built to keep out the raw feelings and emotions were suddenly at risk of leaking out of the cracks of her foundation and she was not ready to lose the control she thought she had. “How has the abandonment from your parents affected you in your life?” Tiffany shook her head and giggled sarcastically.

  “In more ways than I care to speak on. I stray away from close relationships in family and friends. For fear of something happening and for whatever reason we part ways. It took me years to realize my husband was in it for the long run. We have been through some difficult situations and he has always remained my stable source of comfort, love, and stability. And some of those situations I think were from me not knowing and understanding why I am the way I am and lashing out at him because he is the closet person to me.”

  “Well, Mrs. Newton, that is very interesting.”

  “What is?”

  “The fact that you are coming to realize when you try to keep your inner emotions under lock and key and never address them, they have a way of making an appearance in your life through other outlets.”

  “Yes, I think I am understanding that now. I’m just not sure why it took me so long to recognize it for what it was.”

  “It’s normal. Try not to stress over that. Some people never realize it and some simple choose to ignore it and let it hold them in bondage for years. And that leads to bigger problems. Ok, so let’s change it up a little bit; we need to get to the source of your troubles, this way we can work on it from the inside out. I’m going to warn you, the process is not quick nor is it easy. It will cause you to think and rethink things over and over again in your head. It will cause the suppressed pain to creep back up in your life like a thief in the night and dismantle everything you have worked so hard to protect yourself from. And when I say everything, I’m speaking about your covered-up emotions. The ones you keep hidden and only let out in your alone time in fear of someone seeing you as weak and vulnerable.” At this, Tiffany began to cry. An ugly cry, as if she had been holding back the tears for years. Feelings of abandonment, neglect, abuse, rejection, hurt, anger, feeling used and ashamed, and maybe even suicidal. Now I’m sure there are some words I left out, but I assure you, at some point in this very room we will uncover them all.” Mrs. Brown glanced down at her watch, “Look at the time. We have about ten minutes left and I want to give you a little homework to do for our session next week.”

  “Next week?”, Tiffany asked with confusion in her voice.

  “Yes, Mrs. Newton. We will meet every week until we are both comfortable meeting every two weeks.”

  “But Mrs. Brown, my schedule is tight, I don’t know if I can do every week.

  With a stern tone Mrs. Brown responded, “It was my understanding that you came to me for help and understanding of you. Am I right, Mrs. Newton?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well in order for that to happen, you have to make it a priority and if that means you have to miss or rearrange an appointment, miss a cat nap, or a caramel macchiato date so be it! So, let me ask you again. Are you ready to take the bandages off and clean the wounds from the inside out?”

  “I am, but I’m so scared of the process.”

  “And that is normal, but we will conquer it together, I promise you I won’t leave you.” Tiffany wiped her eyes and simply nodded an uncertain yes.

  “Alright then, your homework for next week is to write a letter to the person you are the most angry with. I want you to write it with just as much anger as you feel toward this person. Don’t sugar coat anything. Oh, and don’t use the person’s name.” Tiffany had a look of pure terror on her face and Mrs. Brown could see it. “Just take your time, you probably won’t get it done in one sitting, so start tonight or tomorrow,” instructed Mrs. Brown as she stood and handed Tiffany her next appointment card. “And you should have it done by the time we meet again.” Tiffany reluctantly took the card, stood to her feet, said thank you, and was off to complete her day.

  By the time she reached her car, Tiffany was in a daze. She was second guessing the decision she made to see Mrs. Brown. The tears had started to resurface and her anxiety was creeping back up as if it had never left. Tiffany pulled out of the parking lot with no destination, but before she could even think about it, she was in the place where she found the most peace- May’s grave site. Tiffany parked in her usual spot in front of the rock. It was about 10 steps away from May’s gravesite. She grabbed some tissue and wiped her eyes as she got out of her van. She then walked to the back and retrieved the items she kept for her visits with May. She pulled out her blanket to sit on, a bottle of water, and a rag to clean May’s headstone. Once she reached May’s resting place, she laid the blanket down and took a seat. The tears soiled her shirt as Tiffany began her conversation with her Granny.

  “I know you are near. It’s just that some days, I don’t feel your presence. I must believe that you are proud of me and what I have accomplished in life so far. I mean, my children are everything that I was not. Hell, they are doing things that I was never given the opportunity to do or experience. My marriage is still solid, and I make an honest living. Yet, I still feel like I’m missing something within myself. The sleepless nights are more often. And I know there i
s something to these dreams that I’m having, especially the recurring one. What is He trying to show me, Granny? I’m scared and confused. Why now? Haven’t I been through enough already? I find myself on my knees more than my feet. So today I did what I believe you would have told me to do, I put total faith in God, trusting that he will see me through whatever test this is I’m going through. I guess if I have made it through this far, He won’t take me to a place I can’t come out of greater than I am now.”

  “I have to be honest, Granny, it’s something about this counselor that is all too familiar to me and I can’t put my finger on it. But I guess He will reveal it to me when the time is right, if ever. I remember the conversation we had the night before you passed away, we talked about everything. I’m so grateful that God gave me that alone time with you. He must have known I needed it. Because that conversation has carried me through on my worse days. I can hear your voice so clear.

  “Tiffany, you are the one who is going to have what I have worked so hard for. I have tried to do right by all my girls, but you will be the one that shines. I have made many mistakes, but you are not one of them. I may not be here to see you accomplish everything that you are destined to, but what I have seen, I’m so thankful for. Just to know that it wasn’t all in vain. I want you to remember I love you more than life. You gave me purpose to live when I wanted to give up. You alone gave me reason to believe that I had the ability to mold and shape a child into something good and something I could be proud of. I thank God for that. Soon the time will come when it will seem as though the walls are coming in on you, just remember I am always with you. And whether you want the responsibility or not, my baton will be passed on to you. No one else has the shoulders for it. It’s not going to be an easy nor wanted task, but I need you to promise me that you will look out for them. It’s going to get worse before it gets better. And your grandmother is going to give you the hardest time when I’m gone and it will seem as though you have become your mother’s parent, but stay strong on what you know to be true and everything will work out in the end.”