Irony?
My mom dedicated her life to being a substance abuse counselor. (And she was not an addict herself). She helped soooo many people. Addicts said she was the person who really saved them. She was a shining star.
I went to her classes she taught since I was 11 years old. I knew them back and forwards. Never was "bred" for this addiction. But as soon as she died, it was like I lost all coping skills.
She was my best friend, my heart's song, my EVERYTHING.
I am wracked by guilt at how much she'd be disappointed in my behavior. But I'm trying to adopt the mindset that she'd be even prouder of me for quitting and getting help. Wracked by guilt I am, everyday. That I've spoiled and soiled and ruined her legacy. The legacy she instilled in me.......