Hello, my name is Jenna, and I created this blog to tell you my story.
I am in my 30s now, with a husband, two children, and a full-time job. The story I want to share with you took place when I was younger, just a child growing up in a cattle farm in rural Texas. I would say the story I’m about to tell you took place throughout two or three years, from when I was about eight to eleven years old. It’s important for me to point this out so that you know my memories of that time are from the perspective of a young and naïve child.
I was especially inexperienced with the ways of the world because I was homeschooled and an only child. We didn’t even have Internet at the farm because there were no service towers nearby, so my dad and I were pretty isolated.
The story I want to tell you is about how my father got involved in the meth cooking business and died from an overdose when I was a child.
It is a challenging part of my life for me to share. Even though I was so young, I still harbor a lot of guilt over my father’s death. I was the closest person to him at the time and the only one to see what was going on with him. As an adult, I have sought therapy for my issues with my father, and just to manage my mental health in general. By the way, I cannot recommend therapy enough. I think every single person should be in therapy. Just like you go to the doctor for a checkup, you should have a therapist that you regularly see to take care of your mental wellbeing. My therapist has helped me rationally realize that of course, I am not to blame for my father’s drug addiction, if for no other reason than because I was just a child and couldn’t be held responsible for my adult parent’s actions. I know this in my brain, but my heart still feels guilty.
I hope this story helps heal someone else out there who has lost someone to drug addiction or has a loved one who is struggling with it now.