“See, my son is in jail, & I’m glad but I still am wrenched with worry all night that he will get out in the night & in the day I hate when he asks for money for the phone or for actual real food or a bit of candy that we all crave but especially them when they are coming off heroin because I don’t want him trading it for drugs or calling his cronies to bail him out. After all, even though- he detoxed last weekend and became so suicidal and depressed that they put him on suicide watch and when I called the nurse she said they might pink slip him to the hospital so then I worried that he wouldn’t have a guard when I should be more worried that he’ll harm himself- he still has the mental obsession and cravings to use”………breath…
I can see the blank stare of “What am I supposed to do with that?” Look which I’m so accustomed to.
I bought this piece of grass specifically for my little Chihuahua to “go” outside on.
When I bought it, it didn’t ‘appear’ to have a dead spot.
I noticed another stack of sod had the dead spot. Obviously, they had a disease or some sort of malfunction in the seed or its development. But there were a few stacked up that didn’t. They “looked” normal, healthy. I picked from those. I thought I was good as gold.
“My grass will never turn brown, It’s from a different breed. I’ll water it every day and give it sunshine & rake the weeds out. All the things.”
This picture is one month later. The spot appeared almost immediately. In panic, I tried everything: Dragging my hose through my house to water it (small condo living); sprinkled it with love and fertilizer and even coffee grounds! It persisted in it’s trajectory of showing up different.
I thought about that green grass and my babies. We “get” them as they are green and cute and innocent with no signs of trouble ahead. Even though we don’t have a “keep the sod green instruction manual”, we’ll be fine right? As long as we provide everything for their growth, we are bound to see the results we expect right?
When those first patches of brown appear, such as with substance abuse; we may panic a little. But our inner calming spirit tells us we are overthinking it because of the thousands of thoughts we’ve had before that turned out to be nothing. Someone may have told us we were being paranoid.
Of course. Why would MY child do THAT? They didn’t grow up in a brown patch sort of house. They wasn’t abused or given alcohol. Their every move wasn’t controlled, pushing their little independent spirits & feelings deep down inside them, haunting them until later, when their demons came out in full force.
They were free-loving country adventure-after-adventure kind of kids. How could this be a problem? How could there be a dark brown spot lurking there just awaiting the right set of circumstances to show its true ‘colors’.
Well, it did. Whether it was there all along or developed as a result of intense stress that life throws at an already vulnerable base.- it was here to show just how ugly it can be.
What to do, what to do…..
Yell at it? Berate it? Lock it up with a little chain link fence around it telling it to be like the other strong green blades of grass around it or ELSE?
That should do it. That should scare it into compliance.
After all, no one should DARE to turn brown in this war on drugs. As people look upon them with disgust and tell them they only get one or two or three chances and THAT’S it! Narcan? Pfewwww. You better learn the first time dude, or we will just watch you die – that will send a STRONG message to other vulnerable and lost people not to cross the line of when it’s socially acceptable to take something for the pain or emotional discomfort but not get addicted.
Everyone knows where that line is, right?
Maybe I’ll just try to love it.
Maybe I’ll just accept it where it is but not leave it there.
Yesterday, the otherwise green child of mine called from jail. He is in his Brown patch of life. His brain is riddled with confused fiery darts of hell telling him to get back out there and continue this gig just a little longer. But my boy is still there. He thanked me for answering. He said thank you for never giving up on me. He said:
“Please don’t ever give up on me- you don’t know what it feels like to have someone on the outside rooting for you.”
No he didn’t want anything. He had one 2 minute call in 4 days, he could have used it for requests or rudeness while his brain is mucked up with confusion. Instead he used it to thank me and my husband for not giving up on him.
That brown patch is begging for acceptance. It knows deep down that it’s not who it truly is. It knows it’s destined for greater things. It just can’t see the forest for the “dead trees”. It’s like honey I shrunk the kids and he’s in the center of that brown spot not able to see the solution.
I can help with that view.
I can stand in the gap between a future life of joy and his present life of turmoil and strife.
I can lead the way. Just like when he was a baby and scared to stand up and walk across the room to the couch. What if he fell? I can encourage him that’s it’s worth the risk.
"GET UP!! You CAN DO it!! You will never look back if you master this.
a cultural group within a larger culture, often having beliefs or interests at variance with those of the larger culture
We don’t want to be in the club, yet here we are. It wasn’t planned. We fight it kicking & screaming and it takes up most of our time and emotional – sometimes physical -energy. If it were a “hobby” we would have spent thousands of dollars on it with almost zero return of pleasure- like most hobbies.
We can’t really get out of this group unless we are taken against our will into the bereaved Mom’s groups.
Mom’s of addicts.
Who knew there would be so many different subcultures of a group that NO – ONE wants to be in?
Two years ago, I didn’t have any idea of their existence. One day, while in my lone state of scrolling Facebook for addiction help; I found my first “support” group. What in the world? People who freely talked about what they were going through? No pretending that they didn’t cry every night or wonder what they did wrong? No embarrassment that their friends and family might find out? This was wonderful!
I joined a few different groups not knowing how different they were. I soon discovered that each one had their own culture or vibe making a distinct subculture within this GroupThatNooneWantsToBeIn..There was quite the variety of different groups:
Current and Recovering addicts Support group – straight & raw addiction talk.
CLEAN and SOBER support- don’t try to mention MAT- I actually like this one, despite who runs it. ( an alleged body broker)
One local PUBLIC non-profit with a ‘seemingly” proud to be addicted name- but full of resources.
Mom’s thriving together- post upon post of complaining about how rotten their addict is- but lots of ‘support’ that way.
Al-anon, Nar-anon- surprisingly the same as above – which is NOT how the virtual meetings are.
Prayer group- can’t say damn in your heartfelt rants or you get a nice message from admin.
Non- prayer group- can’t use 🙏 these or you get a ‘nice’- (not) message from admin.
Hardcore matt advocates and legislation information group. Don’t say “exchanging one drug for another” or you will be quickly put in your place! Lol, luckily I never did.
Craft / thrive support with zero tolerance for shaming or dishonoring addicts.
Fukkk fentanyl and other bereaved Mom’s groups.
I have moved in and out of different groups over this last 2 years, due to what I needed at the time. Also being unaware of the “vibe”, I didn’t receive a lot of response to a post I might have made, so I retreated. Even now, when I clearly know what’s expected, and post accordingly, I still may not get what I need.
See, it’s like a twilight zone of sorts. When you’re not used to this world of -all-things-addiction and the pain and suffering it causes; and you scroll your news feed of addiction groups; there are unbelievable wtf moments. Post after post of pain, drama, tears, kids with dfs, kids with grandparents fighting for them. Kicking spouses out, pictures of paraphernalia that a spouse or mom found. A bystander with no ties to “loving anaddict” MIGHT think, ” What in the world is going on?”
That’s what going on.
And be glad you don’t know. As I stated yesterday in this post on overdose awareness day, be very glad you don’t understand.
But for us left in the club, what do we do? I’ll go back to an AA/NA expression:
“Take what you need and leave the rest.”
Which I have finally figured out how to do. Most days I don’t have the emotional energy to argue about what’s clean, who’s clean & who’s business it is. Since I have written over 200 articles about all things addiction, it’shard to not want to throw out one of my posts from my site to ‘educate’ that person of the day. Since most sites don’t allow links, I was quickly reprimanded, in most cases not nicely. So as my fragile emotions moved onward, some groups were better left unattended.
Even now, as I post a few times a month, I feel like one or paragraphs in a single post, must not tell the whole situation because I get advice that I feel isn’t even applicable. And once again, the emotional energy required to explain just isn’t there, when the story keeps playing out in the background as I navigate my emotions through It.
People in these groups are in such different places that it’s sometimes wise to pause and inquire what it is they need most.
Like the video below, as in any relationship; I think it’s important in social media, to know if someone is just venting and needing emotional support or actually Asking for advice.
It’s like a husband and wife dynamic:
But even if there’s not an obvious solution (in all-things- addiction, there NEVER is); what advice/ response is truely helpful?
In just the last month, out of 3 posts NOT asking for advice, just venting at how I can’t (or- more like- how hard it is to not have sadness) feel joy for my other kids and their accomplishments when my son is facing prison and is still unhoused, no car- yadayadyada and other deep emotional pain I’m feeling, I still got these responses:
Don’t resent your other kids for being happy! – (ummm I don’t- I didn’t say that at all- in fact I said I was happy for them- in the. second sentence)
Give it to God, pray for him, live your life- (ok, never thought of that, I do…….doesn’t mean I can’t be sad).
Don’t be willing to be an audience to your kids addiction- once I stopped being involved in my sons addiction- he magically got better- ( like really??? You think my 35 year old son gave up a million dollar business, a new house, his family, go to jail 5 times FOR THE ATTENTION???) I can’t even…..
You just need gratitude in your life, stop “stinkin thinkin” which ironically is a post I made months ago.
Let the natural consequences happen- you didn’t cause it..yadayada…(ok, I’ll jump for joy that my son is punished to 10+ years in prison for POSSESSION of the drug of a disease he can’t manage.
It’s not a crime to be sad. I’m MAD & SAD at the system & the irony of the criminalization of this certain disease. I’m mad that I’m powerless, yes. I’m scared of losing my son and the hope that goes along with having him alive, yes. I guess I just want permission to be sad sometimes…….
Yesterday I finally- actually asked- for advice regarding my sons dire situation and I immediately got a CODA meeting group answer saying,
“Live your life – you’re not ok.”
I give up…..
If caring about your sons future and his kids not having a dad, is co-dependent, then so be it. I will not stop caring.
I’m embarrassed to say that I had never heard of it until a month ago. I have never been a huge studier of scripture. I recently heard some well- Bible versed women talking about it in a group. Just last night my son begged for it – in a way. He wants to be loved desperately in spite of his life choices right now.
So I thought I’d learn & share. Here’s what I found:
11 Practical ways to show agape love to anyone
November 5, 2019 Lila Diller
Have you ever asked yourself…
What is true love?
How do I truly love my boyfriend/husband?
How do I truly love my children?
How do I truly love my parents and siblings?
How do I truly love my friends and coworkers?
I know I’m supposed to love my enemies, but how do I really do that?
What does agape love mean?
Why is it such a big deal in 1 Corinthians 13?
I always heard about agape love in 1 Corinthians 13, but I wondered what it really is? What does it look like in real life? How should it manifest itself in my life?
Agape is one of the 4 Greek words used in the Bible. This is the “highest” form of love, the one that is always used for God. It is a self-sacrificing, unconditional love that does what is best for the object of their love, no matter how it hurts themselves or seems harsh to the object. It is not a feeling but an action, a decision of the will that leads to real actions. Like “faith without works is dead” (James 2:14), so is love. Love is shown by good works. What do these works look like on an everyday level for you and me?
do what’s best for them, even rebuke, as long as it’s done for their benefit and with gentleness
You can download the free PDF that answers these questions quickly and you can print out to refer to at any time!
This PDF is a fancy, colored one for use on devices:
This PDF is a black-and-white one for easier printing, to place on your refrigerator or mirror:
I guess, as moms, we have this type of love naturally. Maybe that’s what separates Mom’s and Dad’s view of their child’s antics? Dad’s view it more conditional – fix it and them ill talk to you- type of response. Mom’s just love no matter what and then are reprimanded for not letting go.
The good news is, it’s all a process. As long as we are moving forward in Love, we can’t lose.
Have you ever sat by a river and watched the leaves and sticks flow by? This is one of my favorite things to do. I contemplate, every single time, where all the water comes from, where it’s going, and what its purpose is, right now, in front of me. I watch the leaves and wonder if they’re happy just being tossed around wherever life takes them. Once in a while a beautiful duck may appear, and I think, “Maybe it’s all about the duck”.
I sometimes try to remember who I was before the river. Before I was the leaf being tossed around.
Have you ever thought who you were before you were trying to save someone else?
Who were you before this current tragedy or quest took over?
What did you enjoy? What brought you joy? What was your foundation?
When our foundation is based on something out of our control, there is bound to be an earthquake to shake it up. When our very existence seems to depend on a situation getting better or worse, we know we’re off center.
The Center of being true to ourselves. As hard as it is to admit, especially in the rawness of broken hearts or deep pain that shoots through our core; we are all separate individuals.
This is not to invalidate feelings. Our feelings are our own. Grief is real. Sadness is real. Disappointment is real. But we don’t have to let them own us.
Just like the river flows without any help from us, others’ lives will unfold and flow without a whole lot of input from us. So what actions and input will help us find our true essence? Will we only be happy if x, y, or z happens? We all know that it doesn’t stop there. We might be happy for a minute but soon another concern will arise and we will be hyper-focused on making that happen.
What if instead of us being the leaves being tossed around, what if the leaves were our emotions? We see them coming, we don’t panic, we just lovingly accept and observe them? They might be angry leaves, mad at getting wet. Mad at the river. Mad at the people watching who won’t pull them out. Mad at the logs that won’t stop their decline to some unknown destination of fear.
What kind of quality of life by the hour, by the day, does that make? We wonder why we’re miserable and anxious. Maybe it’s all about the foundation and not the river that’s tossing us…….
Fellow addicted loved one supporter wrote this:
“With my jagged edges and sharp blades around my heart, I could come here and speak it into the world. I was rarely judged, and so many people would give opinions, words of encouragement, knowledge, acceptance, and love. I was caught up in my own sickness. The sickness so many of us, non-addicted loved ones get ill with. Which is thinking we can absorb the addiction out of the people we love or care about. That we can love it out of them, teach them their worth, their potential, and value. And the cold hard reality is, we can’t. Even while we try, I think we are so blind by what we THINK they want. What we THINK someone can become. And perhaps we are wrong. Maybe not. But what I do know now at this point. Nothing I ever did or didn’t do has anything to do with them getting sober and into recovery. I wasn’t to blame for drug use and relapse. And I couldn’t take credit for sober time either. That was them. Completely. The good and the bad choices. This also meant I had to realize, staying in my own illness of fixing, solving, enabling.. was also on me fully. Good days and bad. Just as their addiction was on them. My point is, something beautiful happened when I stopped pouring every ounce of myself into someone else. There was now something to pour into me. In the last few months I have ALLOWED, yes allowed being the correct word.. allowed myself to pour into me. ( After my five kids ) allowed me to laugh. Allowed me to go out and meet new people, good people. Allowed me to still be all the things about me I love while keeping boundaries of who and when people can receive the good parts of me. On my terms. I recognize myself again. I actually feel.. happy most days. Letting go of someone or something that is toxic or unhealthy does not mean the love was never there or wasn’t real. But it sometimes means you now know how to treat yourself right FIRST, and by doing so.. if other things fall off, or out, you know they weren’t meant for you. I will always wish sobriety, health, accountability, and a life of honesty and integrity for the previous addict in my life. I will always hope somewhere in this lifetime my kids will know the happy, funny, charismatic version of their father that long ago I once knew. Whether or not that is the real him, only he knows. But if they can know that person, I would be so happy for them. As for me, I found a new love. She’s about 5’10” and she is actually someone I reconnected with from long ago.. she is MYSELF. Loving her can only bring the correct kind of love in my life from here forward. To those who lost themselves trying to save someone. I see you. Rest. Pray. And remember who YOU ARE. Not be consumed remembering who THEY WERE. Let THEM do that. ❤️
Absorb the addiction out of them.
I love that. The only one we can absorb something out of- is ourself. What do you need to fo to absorb the worry, the fear, the disappointment out of yourself and reconnect with that person who just loves? Loving the one who loves so deeply….
This is the conversation I just heard at the pool:
“Honey come get this dead spider out of the water, HURRY! OMG!!!! It’s alive!!! How can that be? Get it! Wait how is that even a thing?? How can it be ALIVE in the water? OMG it’s MORE than NOT dead! it’s booking it! Hurry! How Is that possible??”
To which the guy said:
Chill, Quit screeching.. You’re gonna be ok….”
You're gonna be ok.
I tell myself this all the time. Do I believe it?
Spiders are a bit scary, I admit, but when facing more insurmountable problems in life, they are fiddlesticks. What used to scare me, I look at with a mild curiosity at the power it once held on me.
Remember that being afraid of something is not the same thing as having a specific phobia. In order to receive a diagnosis for a specific phobia, certain criteria must be met, including disruption to acts of daily living and a decrease in your quality of life due to the intensity of the fear.
“A decrease in quality of life, due to the intensity of fear..”
These days, my challenge is getting through the day without overwhelming fear taking over. Loving an addict is like seeing a spider 🕷️ every second of every day but you can’t swat at it. It’s as if you’re stuck in it’s tangled web trying to save yourself while it’s just doing it’s own thing to survive.
I think it’s important to not “breathe that fear onto them- like the lady at the pool breathed her fear onto everyone there.
There are many treatments for arachnophobia and other fears, including “Exposure Therapy”.
Basically flooding the brain- usually slowly- with thoughts of the thing you fear the most. We mommas already do our own exposure therapy. We live and breathe the possible outcomes every day. This is called ‘over thinking’ or ‘catastrophic thinking’
Here’s some tips to help with that, not necessarily geared toward substance use.
Another way is to learn to trust a higher power. Trust in something or someone that doesn’t have all the emotions attached to it, like we do.
As Libby Cataldi, one of my fellow mommas-in-hope, stated:
“It’s difficult for our suffering loved ones to carry our anxieties, as well as their own. When they are in the throes of their addiction, they are struggling with obsession, shame, and the chase of the drug. When they are in early recovery, they face countless fears daily – how to get a job, how to pay rent, and how to go the next day without drugs. Today, I’ll try to bolster my serenity and breathe hope into my loved one”.
I’ve found that when I talk to my son in fear mode, it just creates defensiveness on his part. He’s a debater at heart, so imagine with such a monster of substance use added on, he wins the argument every time, EVEN if he’s wrong.
We’ve all heard the saying, “Do you want to be right or be happy?”. With our addicted loved ones, it’s so easy to tell them what to do with their life so that WE can feel better. But that kind of compliance ( if we even get compliance) doesn’t last. Connections last…..
I didn’t work at a turkey plant cleaning up turkey guts.
I haven’t lost a child to suicide.
Even so, early this morning @ 6 am, I find myself leaning under my Elder bush transplanting a flower and the thought hit me:
I am my mother!
She had a beautiful yard. She would go out early in the coolness of the morning, sometimes before the sun was fully up, and weed. She despised weeds and my dad despised ants. Between the two, they kept their 1/13 of an acre virtually weed free and ant free!
Growing up and then starting my family, I had lots of thoughts of NOT raising my kids the way my parents did.
Old, old house
No vacation memories
Constant struggling with survival
No real goals except to get through the day
Family fell apart & she didn’t see most of her kids the last 10 years of her life
Always pushing up her glasses & trying to see
Always trying to cover her gray hair
I started out with great intentions. I made it my daily goal to master the secret of self-improvement. I was going to figure out all the answers then I could relax and enjoy a life of ease and have a happy family.
But here I am, three days away from turning 54. Fifty Four! My mama has been gone 13 years.
The similarities are easy to spot.
I’m weeding in the early morning
I struggle with relationships
Some silent treatment is definitely involved
I live paycheck to paycheck
My son has been swirled into the world of drugs to the point of me fearing his death daily
I still have zero clue of what life is and what I’ve mastered
My glasses- ugh the daily struggle
And my gray hair……always a task
You could say I’m my Mama.
At least I don’t have dentures at a young age like she had. She would take them out and scare the babies with. But I do push, adjust and take off my glasses 100 times a day. My hair seems to turn gray within days of coloring it.
My family is in shreds. After diligently putting effort into vacations, religion, nice housing, sports activities, my family has caved to the ravages of being addictions’ extended victims.
Those are the negative similarities. My mama lived a simple life. She wasn’t impressed by money or power. She didn’t really care for the luxuries of life or having material things, despite growing up poor.
Now, I want a simple life. After decades of always wanting more than my parents had, now I just want simple. Sure, I am impressed by a nice house with a pool and misting sprays coming off the porch. I also desire peace. My mom loved peace. She had an innocent way about her that screamed authenticity. She didn’t ever want to upset anyone, but her blunt manner and uncouthness did, at times.
I want my Mama’s innocence.
I want her ability to be forgiven because “she just didn’t know better”, instead of intentional. I want to be remembered like her, for the good things: her homemade chicken stew, her beautiful yard, her sense of humor.
I don’t want the usual idolizing after death but I want to be missed.
I want to be remembered when someone sees a yellow rose. Or smells Wrigley Spearmint gum. I want someone to hear John Denver’s “Take Me Home Country Roads” and feel a tear well up in their eye.
Mostly I just want to be loved.
Loved like my Mama and I want to Love like my Mama.
I couldn’t believe how much I missed it! What’s funny is- during those years where I went swimming 3 or more times a week; I remember thinking, “this isn’t even doing me any good, I’m not losing any weight”. Little did I know how good it was for my sanity, and also how it actually had maintained my weight. I’ve gained a good 15 lbs in one year AND almost went off the DEEP end of crazy.
So, in my reminiscent, exhilarating state of a refreshing solo swim, I hear the gate open. I should say that I felt the presence before the gate even opened. The lady with the Hawaiian Print skirts.
She swooped in – with all her glory- her glory being about a hundred bags & towels and precious water bottle and the boy. Ahh- I remember her.
I don’t know many people in my complex and zero names, but I know “characters”. Very quickly it became clear as she started barking orders to THE BOY, that she was the one who liked to bark orders & sneers to THE BOY. The boy being about 13 by now; I remember him as a 10 yr old, then 11; excited to be at the pool, wanting to please his mom, but only getting negative feedback with not only her words but the tone of them.
She seemed irritated with him. Always. I’m a pretty good judge of brat- factors in kids & this kid didn’t strike me as one who fit the annoying part. Which is surprising because it seemed she took every opportunity to make him feel like shit.
With my solace obviously ruined, I packed up as quickly as I could. I wanted to scream as I went out the gate:
"Do you realize that you only have maybe one or two years left before he isn't going to give a rats- ass about you or coming to the pool?!!!!
Do you realize that if he feels like he never lives up to your expectations, hes going to find someone or someone or some THING that accepts him?
Do you know the first time he tastes alcohol or hits his first joint or tries heroin, it's going to feel like he found heaven to fill up all his empty holes of inadequacy & self-worth?
He's going to start a love affair with an illusion - albeit a powerful tangible one- that 'might' take a lifetime to get over".
But I kept silent.
I walked out of the gate with my measly bag & foam water weights & headed to the safety of my car where I could check messages from my first born son who’s in purgatory county jail………..
The momma bird pecked ferociously at the window. She could feel her eggs wobbling inside her patiently awaiting their day.
It only made her peck harder at the window, fervently NEEDING to accomplish this feat.
Finally! SUCCESS! She broke through the barrier that meant stability and LIFE for her littles.
She went home feeling accomplished. Time was SO SHORT. She could already feel the warm breezes of spring coming closer every day. She must return bright and early to continue her mission. She tossed and turned all night in the flapping dryer vent. It was warm there but the tin was hard and flat. She could think of nothing else but a nice round warm nest where she pictured her brightly colored baby eggs getting nurtured in her love.
The next day was more pecking, cautiously stopping when she heard a sound approach. Ah, it was just the neighbor, the ones who have the lovely bird feeder on their porch. Thirsty & hungry she flew away for lunch, reveling in her progress. Back at it, in what seemed like an eternity, but was really only hours in human time; she broke through the barrier.
She couldn’t believe it! Persistence paid off! Her nest would be the strongest in the whole neighborhood! She ravagely pulled off the steel screen pieces to line her sweet babies first precious sanctuary.
Her babies would be so happy! They would grow up strong and safe and warm. They would fill their beaks and tummies with worms and bugs and all things wonderful that momma found. They would squawk and play and frolic while momma watched on proudly.
When the time came for their departure, momma would shed a big wet bird tear and push them out of the nest.
Momma bird would have a moment of silence saying a little bird prayer for them to live a full and safe life. She prayed for them to have the wisdom to stay clear of airplanes and vultures and all things that mean instant death. She hoped they would have strong instincts to avoid the slow killers too, poisonous plants and moldy water.
Just in case you ever wondered why Mom’s are so stubborn and refuse to detach from their child or at least ‘ worry-like-a-muttha’ when they don’t have food or adequate shelter. I guess the key is-be more like a momma bear when they’re little but become a momma bird later. Detach with loving purpose as you push them into the vast world.
Have you ever looked at the parallels of our behavior vs. the addict?
In all honestly the addict isn’t proud that they are an addict, yet they are, they will do anything to use, to stop their pain.
We, in all honesty aren’t proud to be in the chaos of their addiction, yet we want to stop our pain and theirs.
The addict doesn’t take note of “how they might change” to help themselves. We, also don’t take note on “how we might change” to help ourselves.
We are both struggling to resolve an issue that “ONLY WE CAN CHANGE FOR OURSELVES”.
We are begging and asking the addict to get a grip, get help, stop, change, etc. Yet as we travel down this road, this is exactly what we should be doing for ourselves.
I’m not one to be the 1st to say leave by any means. However, I will always be the 1st to say, stop! Stop trying to swim up stream, stop and look at your situation and how you can help yourself to stay well.
Just like the addict we have to admit that we are powerless over their addiction. So where does that leave you, where is that taking you? What can you do to not become emotionally wounded and feel less than, not worthy, helpless and all those ugly things?
This is your work, this is where you take back control of your life. You honestly have to take these measures, whether you stay, go or straddle the fence.
So let go of trying to control them, condem them, fix them or become so emotionally vulnerable to them. Truly acknowledge and accept that this is your journey and their journey!
Now take control of you…. Use your tools…
Boundaries Stop enabling Detachment Create a life outside of them, Their addiction doesn’t have to be a life sentence to you.
If you take these measures of self love and work towards a positive life, the answers will emerge.
I mean why are we not allowing ourselves to take the same measures we want our addict to take?
Love yourself and get well and you know what, just maybe your new strength will be a turning point for both of you.
RESPECTFULLY WISHING ALL OF US HEALING AND CLARITY- Cindy Gainer-Furst