To The Addict I Love

I know you’re there.
I know you’re listening.
I know you read my messages.

My very first article….published on Elephant journal

I also know that it’s almost impossible for you to see the ripple effect you’ve had on the lives of others, especially since you are trying so hard to just survive hour to hour, day to day.

But if you could see it…

You would see people who are hurting because of your struggles, hurting because of your pain. You would see people who long for your happiness again, who want to hear your laugh and your stupid jokes.

If you could see and feel these things, then that would mean you could feel the pain of a little girl who doesn’t know where you went. One minute you were there, making up funny names with her and riding on scary carnival rides, trying to not be terrified while she was squealing with joy.

You would see the future of a little boy who will have to tell his friends and his future kids that he never knew you, that he never learned how to hunt and fish from you. He will say to his girlfriend on their first date that the only memory he has is of the two of you together on a backhoe, smiling brightly. He will sit in anticipation, wondering how fun you could have been.

If you could see this, you would also see people who take time and effort to reach you, only to be ignored. You would see confused moms and dads and brothers and sisters, who can’t get past their own pain to know how to help.

These people long for the past. They relive stories of camping and vacations. They think of all the things you taught them in your unique, funny way.

Hell, they would even love to hear what these last few years have taught you.

But you won’t tell them.
Because you’re enslaved.
To this thing.
This monster thing that came into your life.
Slowly, but progressively, he told you lies.
So many lies.
That just one wouldn’t hurt.
That just one more wouldn’t hurt.
That you needed the break.
That you could handle it.
That you weren’t addicted.
That even if you’re were a little addicted, you’d stop tomorrow.

It told you to spend more and more time with it. And more and more money. Until you had no more time and no more money for anything else.

But it told you that was okay, because all you needed was one more time. All you needed was him—it. The demon disguised as pleasure.

You hate yourself for believing it. You hate yourself for needing it to get through the day, even the hour, without being sicker than a dog.

You hate yourself for not being able to quit.
You hate yourself for not being smarter and stronger.
And all that willpower you used to have, to work and take chances and convince people of anything?
You were power. You were a warrior.
Where is that guy?
You hate that you can’t find him.
You hate that you can’t admit you don’t know how to find him.

But I know one thing:

You are still needed.
Your presence.
Your love.
Your vitality.
Your wisdom.

Your unique, loving, bigger-than-life heart is your greatest investment. Jobs and money come and go. But people who truly love you don’t.

You’re a warrior—a loving warrior.

And I can hardly wait to see you move past this time in your life.

I honor your struggles and your journey.
I’m willing to go through all my emotions, all my pain to wait out what you need to do to get through this.

I’m rooting for you—my warrior hidden under that addict.
Come out soon.
Come back.


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Samantha Waters  |  Contribution: 705

Samantha Waters steps out from small-town America and plunges into the creative world of writing, painting rocks, hunting rocks, forging new mountain trails, and going to her … Read full bio





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Samantha Waters

A unique perspective on the world from a small town girl turned big city nurse. Now a grandmother to 6 gregarious, resplendent boys and 5 endearing, magical girls, she strives the make the world a more understanding, pleasant place to experience this intense thing called life.

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