Living In An Addicts Worlds

I’ve done the work, I continue todo the work, I have a great therapist. This post is about my moment of clarity. If you are reading this and connecting with me, I am with you. If you are wondering why I’m sharing this, you and I are in different places, and that’s ok. There are moments that I have as a loved one of an addict that linger and haunt me. There are so many I’ve lost track. The particular one that stands out for me, the one where the downward spiral ended, was when I realized I was working harder for his sobriety than he was.My ability (sometimes called my super power) to read a situation and problem solve was not an attribute rather an achilles heal when it came to my addict. To say out loud, to acknowledge to anyone that I could not veer him from his path of destruction was devastating for me. A switch was flipped the day I found the words to describe my part in our crazy life. I no longer felt responsible for him, his actions, his excuses. A weight was lifted and in it’s place a big black hole of accountability lay in front of me. (Insert audible sigh) “I’m going to be in charge of myself and my kiddo, that’s it.” This became my mantra. If all that wasn’t  hard enough to swallow I had an “ah ha” moment that kicked me where it hurts. I’m part of the problem not the solution.Sweet Mary and Joseph!!! “I’m part of the problem”. At this point I wasn’t sure which way was up. It was as if I  kicked over a full filing cabinet and had to put all the flies back in a new, better functioning order.If you have your very own addict you know my struggle. If you are knew to the world of addiction buckle your seat belt. Addiction slowly sneaks into our lives. It quietly twist things around. It invokes fear and sadness, delivering confusion and angry. Then when it feels like you can’t take any more the family you love dearly implodes and the real tragedy begins. The break down of love and compassion. All the life we’ve lived, the life that made us us, criticized and ridiculed. We tourtured each other emotionally, placed blame. We pulled apart and strangled all that was sacred to us. The things we said, the nasty way we spoke to each other… It was horrific. I  wouldn’t change a thing. All that has happened has brought me to a place of understanding that I never would have gotten to if it wasn’t for the long drawn out process of getting myself to this place of self awareness. I needed to see first hand what it meant to hit rock bottom his, mine, ours (Yes, there is more than one rock bottom). Even with the switch flipped and my eyes wide open to the fact that I was part of our problem I  still was determined to save him.It was difficult and painful to choose to detach from my addict I  loved him. I wanted to keep him safe and alive. I wanted to hold onto the hope that he’d return to the sober man that I fell in love with. In one last very expensive ditch effort I put him on a plane to attend a rehab in Florida. I know, I  know, rookie mistake. The regret I have for making this choice has left a scar on my heart.My husband came home from that rehab five months later. He came home a different kind of broken than when he left. He’s was angry and lost and willing to give it all up as long as he didn’t have to work at sobriety. Didn’t have to face the self hate he carried. Do any work to better our family situation. What happened next… I never saw coming and I really thought I’d seen it all.To be continued…

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