Diary Of Dispair Essays - Therapy, Today, Small Source Of Comfort

Diary Of Dispair A Diary of Despair A Chronicle of Heroin Abuse As Seen through the Eyes Of a Mother Jennifer Bernstein Drug Use and Abuse Professor Santucci 4/26/99 Dear Diary, I think back, and I smile at the little girl I used to have, all pigtails and lace. I can still hear her laughter echoing through the hallways of our home; see her swinging on the swing set in our backyard, her long curly blonde hair, full of pink ribbons, sailing behind her like a pool of melted gold. When the sun hit her face, she just glowed, her green eyes sparkling, her red cheeks, full, lush and alive. What happened to that little girl? Where the hell did I go wrong?!? Why am I sitting in a cold empty room, where she used to laugh and play, clinging to a teddy bear she tossed away years ago, wondering where she is tonight? OH GOD, just bring her home safe, Im begging you. Dear Diary, Today I found money, along with my credit card, missing from my purse (Beschner p.51). I also woke up missing a daughter. I can only imagine where she is now. I dont understand!! Its like shes like the girl in The Exorcist, she seems possessed, but by what, I dont know! Just last week we had ourselves a girls day out. We treated ourselves to makeovers, had lunch, bought new outfits, even caught a matinee movie!! We had a great day; she was my little girl again. But now, I find myself alone again, wondering, worrying, and praying (Gustafson p.45-46). If only I knew what was going on. I know adolescence is a time of turmoil and rebellion, but this all doesnt seem normal. She disappears for days, DAYS!! And when she finally comes home, its an all out battle. I threaten her, I scream at her, I plead with her, only to have the door slammed in my face! Im nearly at my wits end. I wish her father was still here, I need help. I cant go through this alone. Im scared. Dear Diary, I dont know who she is anymore. I fear the little girl I once knew is gone forever now, never to be seen again. This person is unrecognizable to me. She went from being an honor-roll student to dropping out of high school. Shes emaciated, her clothes (if you want to call them that, they look like rags to me) hang on her; she looks like she hasnt bathed in weeks. Her face, once full of joy and hope, is emotionless now. When I do see her, she only has angry words for me, before stealing some of my money and storming out of the house (Gustafson p.48-49). I want to reach out to her, but I just dont know how. I fear the worst. I dont want to admit what my heart already knows. Dear Diary, My worst fears have finally been confirmed. I found a needle in her drawer. I confronted her. My hands are shaking as I write this. GOD how could this happen to my little girl!?!?! WHY It didnt go well. She admitted it. She looked straight into my eyes, with a cold harsh stare I barely recognized (but somewhere, deep down in that gaze, I saw her, the child I once knew) and said Yeah, Im using. Theres nothing you can do about it, and then walked away (Gustafson, p57-56). I stood frozen. I felt my soul ripped from my body. I feel as though Ive lost her forever. Dear Diary, Its been about a month since I saw her last, the day I found the needle. I have no idea where she is. If I knew who her friends are, Id call them, but shes been so elusive and secretive (Gustafson, p52) during the past year, I have no idea who they may be. Who ever they are, they probably got her into all of this. How could I have let this get so out of control? Looking back, I should have seen this coming; I should have recognized the signs (Gustafson p.86). I could have stopped this. NO! Stop it!! I cant do this to myself. The past is the past and yes, mistakes were made, but the damage