Page 6 - August Muse 2017
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        hidden packets of crisps or chocolate,                 addictions had stripped her of all dignity

        however I often found nothing and went                 and energy,
        hungry.

                                                               I would get up for school and dress
        As I stood on the cabinet, I pulled                    myself then walk myself in, cook for

        myself up to look at the top of the                    myself (If we had food in the house) and
        cupboards. There I found a see-through                 I began to wash my own clothes, which

        glass cake mould, no food inside of it,                often failed as I didn’t know how to use
        instead I saw syringes and needles,                    the washing machine.

        although I was only 6 I knew that this
        was very bad. I jumped down and ran to                  Most mornings I would wake up to see

        my room, too scared to ask my mum                      my mother asleep on the sofa, beer
        what they were and why they were                       cans on the floor around her, I was so

        there. I kept the secret of what I                     used to seeing it that it didn’t upset me
        discovered to myself, it ate me up                     anymore. I would put a blanket over her

        inside, all I knew was this was bad news               and leave for school; other times she
        and I felt ashamed, ashamed to have                    would be awake drinking beer at 8am

        found them and scared for my mother.                   and when I returned from school she
        Eventually my mum admitted that she                    would be drunk, high and incoherent.

        had a problem and went into rehab.                     I got used to her rarely being conscious,
                                                               escaping my reality though my drawings

        She went to four rehabs in five years,                 and art work.
        we even moved to another less rough

        council estate for her to have a fresh                 Eventually social services got involved
        start. But nothing seemed to work for                  as my sister and I were turning up to

        long, maybe it was because she had a                   school tired, hungry and dressed in dirty
        lack of willpower, or the fact addiction is            or un-ironed clothes.

        a demon that feeds off you until you
        have nothing left: But she never stayed                At first mum slammed the door in their

        clean longer than a month.                             faces whenever they came over, but
                                                               after she had someone overdose in our

                                                               living room she was taken to court and
        I grew up angry, angry that I wasn’t                   told to get sober or loose me and my

        enough for my mum to be sober, angry                   sister.
        she needed drugs more than she                         This was the final push that my mum

        needed me and angry that my father                     needed to get sober again. Unable to go
        never stepped in to help or rescue me.                 back to rehab she did a home detox, in

        By the time I was 10 my mother’s                       which she was violently ill, but she stuck
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