This Blog Post is for the Wives, Husbands, Girlfriends, Boyfriends or Loved Ones.
You have traveled a rocky road. You have had a long rendezvous with hurt pride, frustration, self pity, misunderstanding and fear. We alcoholics or addicts are not pleasant companions. You have been driven to tears, sympathy and bitter resentment. Some of you hoping that one day your love one would be themselves once more.
You have been unselfish and self sacrificing. You told lies to protect your love one’s pride and reputation. You prayed, begged, and tried to be patient. But you struck out, hid, ran away, became hysterical or just were terrified to approach them.
You wake up with hopes of a new day, a new person but suddenly realize as the day goes on they didn’t change. Maybe for a couple hours, a week or two, but the gut in your stomach fears they will resort back to their old destructive ways.
You love them so much and have no idea how to help them. Realize you are not the problem nor the solution. The alcoholic or addict has no idea how much they are being harmful to you or others. You can guide and suggest for them to get outside help without getting into arguments. Hard yes, but don’t give up. Never ever blame yourself. You are the strongest ones to live and come out of this environment. Sometimes as a last resort you have to let go and stop enabling too.
ADDICTION: Hey there old friend. Maybe friend isn’t the correct term, so allow me to rephrase. Hello old habit. You and me were best friends. We were the Bert and Ernie of our time and yes we flew over the cliff and plunged into the abyss. I was sick and I only needed you. No chicken soup could cure this sickness. I thought you were all the antibiotics I needed. You and me were married once. I woke up to you, thought about you all day long, and rushed you into my arms at night. But that was just the honeymoon phase.
My friend, my disease. I was in it not for the thrill of the chase but for the end of my pain. When I was with you I saw my dreams come true. Pigs were flying, so I thought. I didn’t have to believe I was dying. I didn’t have to care about Mom, Dad, and anyone that showed me love. I avoided all and many. I only cared about cutting the perfect line, rolling a perfect dime, and making sure I didn’t look high. If I said I didn’t miss you I would be lying but hey, you’ve made a liar out of me before.
It’s easy to try and ignore the hell you put me through, but I would walk a thousand miles of hells seventh floor before I slip back into that fantasy. That coma of things that have never been and could never not be. Me and the devil have danced nine times to many and I know all his sweet moves. The devil put me in a checkmate I never saw coming.
My friend, my affliction, Kryptonite doesn’t have a damn thing on you! You kept me down for years and years and years. Only down was up and up was blue and it was way to difficult to stop believing in you. Believing you were better than real love. I loved you so much. You were my sweetheart, my carebear, my snow white, my green sticky icky, my pill kill, my daily fix. But you can’t fix this! You can’t fix my past or make my future bright. I know I sound like I’ve suddenly seen the light but it was always there. I just chose to close my eyes.
My friend I think it’s best we stop playing this game. It’s time I call you by your true name. ADDICTION, you were never my friend only another bullet I’d bitten. ADDICTION you are my cancer, you may not be stage four but you’re still terminal. You were the Woody to my Buzz Lightyear. Only now if I am driven to the edge of insanity I’ll skid to a stop. I will watch as you fall over the edge, and I’ll smile as you dive into oblivion. A place I never ever ever ever again want to be.
Let me start off by saying, if you’re reading this I love you. It is so easy for me to find the good in you and love you, especially when you may be having trouble loving yourself. When you’re having a hard time standing up on your own, I’ll find a way to help and lift you up. When my phone rings at any point of the day or through the night, I will answer it and listen to you. I may not have the words to make things better but I will continue to do the best I can to help you get you through whatever you’re dealing with. God gave me a gift of empathy, and I use it the best I can to help others. Thats how I cope, thats the only way that I know that I will be alright.
But, I can’t save you. I remember my last words and conversations to countless amounts of friends that have passed on. Great memories of times that we’ve shared. I can’t look back and say “what if…” The truth is life goes on. Tonight, somebody else may die. I can’t control that, no one can. I will continue to open my arms and stand on the firing line of recovery, with my friends that choose to walk this path with me. I will continue to get to know you, learn about the struggles you’ve overcome and the person you want to be. I will continue to suit up and show up for God, and for myself….because the truth is, we are fighting the same battle. I need you just as much as you need me. Give yourself a chance. Ask for help. WE don’t need to do this alone. 🙏🏽❤️
Voices: either we hear them, use them, or shut them out.
What the world isn’t ready for is a real honest person. I’m not afraid to speak my mind for everyone to hear my voice. I wear my emotions on my sleeve and for certain not scared to show it. Real Recognizes Real.
We walk around mute and blind. We turn our backs on one another. We kick a person when they are down. Why? The pain and suffering is within yourself first then in turn we lash that out towards others. If we showed and spoke the truth would it hurt? Compassion we lack and get absorbed into the Cruelty.
When I needed those voices during my darkness times all I got in return were the voices in my head telling me I was a failure. I had to climb out the eerie gates of insanity with one just one voice in my head…
Apologies to my Exes and women I womanized. No this isn’t my confessions. Sorry, just an appreciation of your time and investment, patience and efforts. Having you all was part of a blessing. You all belong on a pedestal. No hard feelings, no love lost. No bad blood, your love is a bad drug. But better to have love than no love at all.
Disciplining my habits, went distant on my attachments. I had to turn my presence to absence. Stuck in a cage, questioning the hours and days. I’m in my Depressional stage, my tunnel vision is starting to fade. I started to marry my thoughts, already engaged. Not knowing my next move had me going insane. I depended on Alcohol to get me over the pain. Praying my habit didn’t turn for the worst. It turned me to pills and cocaine. I won’t allow this temporary pain to turn to a stain.
I want to live but my joy for life is stuck in the grave. God I need you more than ever, I was hoping you came. I was so used to holding life in, it’s kind of hard to explain. I was misunderstood. Far from perfect, did a lot of stupid, crazy things I knew I shouldn’t. Ducking my demons but they coming back like a speeding bullet. My life is crazy out here, it’s like I love it and I hate it out here. I have to be mentally stable to know these 3 words…I Am Sorry.
How have you been? You and I have been on quite a journey the past few years. We have hugged our knees praying, cried for hours till the tears dried, the throat hurt and the nose blocked, yet we continued crying. We have sat there on the shower floor, just in daze at that stormy situation that surrounded us. We have drank so much alcohol to numb that pain. That heart wrenching pain is real.
You and I, we also pushed ourselves to use different drugs and try different alcoholic beverages. I have seen you have everything you probably wanted. I have also seen you losing it all, suddenly and perhaps in a cruel way. Life is not a straight line, there are ups and downs. It is a series of twists and turns.
I am sorry for all those times where I wanted to tear you apart. I am sorry for all the times I let you hang your head down low, for all the times I let you win, and beat myself up because of those insecurities. I was not strong enough to encourage, support and appreciate you.
I know life has been tough for you the past few years but you have done quite a good job to stay alive. I have seen you plummet to the state of despair and depress. Thank you for not giving up. You know, I am extremely proud that you managed to survive through that suicide attempt. Depression and Mental illness is a struggle.
Have you noticed lately how much you have changed? I did. You have improved much more. You are now much confident to speak up on things on your mind and rise up to challenges. You are now able to sleep soundly without drugs or alcohol. You have a gorgeous daughter, who is thriving. She will benefit from all these lessons you are learning, so although it is a tremendous strain, remember she will learn from your strength to get through this.
As I am writing this letter, you have not fully figured out how your life will be yet. Let’s make a pact. Come back to re-read this letter 5 years later, and update me how you are doing. I truly hope that by that time, you have found your happiness and that you have followed a path that you are proud of. Remember, behind those dark clouds, the sun is still shining.
You have got through this far. Continue to be strong. Do not stop loving. Do not stop caring. You are always loved, by me. I see the light at the end of the tunnel. I am the tunnel.
I’m constantly accomplishing all of my new accomplishments. Sometimes I wake up and feel like I haven’t really accomplished shit. Honestly it’s stressful. I got skeletons in my closet. I won’t say I’m trying to clean it up, maybe just sort it out. I’m sharing with you things that I thought about. Can’t stop dreaming about.
Hey Charles, how do I get these demons out? Voices in my head, I need to scream it out. Something has to give. You don’t get rid of your demons, you learn to live with them.
I lost many friends in as many weeks; From the same place I call home. My paranoia got me feeling obnoxious. But let me paint a different picture: I didn’t lose friends, I gained angels. So before bed I’m saying thank you. Be very careful about what you think. Your thoughts run your life. Don’t use your mouth to tell lies. Don’t ever say things that are not true. Who takes a bullet for you is not as important as the one who takes the bullet out of you. Never give up on me!
Sobriety gave me my writing. It lifted the damper that alcohol and drugs placed on my creative energy. It gave me the motivation and, initially, the material. I started blogging as a way to process my recovery experiences and connect with others. It turned out to be the perfect way to take my first baby steps into writing. Anonymity has been necessary for obvious reasons. It also allowed me to get my feet wet as a blogger without too much ego involvement and vulnerability.
I was a nervous wreck when I hit “post” on that first post with my name on it. The good kind of nervous wreck, though. The kind of stomach butterflies that tell you you’re doing something brave that will grow you as a person. 100 or so post later, I am much more accustomed to “putting myself out there,” but I still get those butterflies once in awhile. That’s when I know I’m taking risks with my writing and really giving something of myself. Being more present and emotionally balanced for my family has been the greatest gift of sobriety for me. My writing is a close second.
Today I’m 3 years clean and sober. It’s been interesting, adjusting to sober living. I knew it was necessary but thought it would suck. It doesn’t suck. It did for awhile, sometimes. I am happy to say very simply that this is a better way to live and I’m happier. It does not feel like a life of “doing without” like I thought it would. I have gained so much more than I’ve lost (and to most of what I’ve lost, good riddance anyway).
Am I grateful to be an Alcoholic and Addict like some people in meetings say? Yes! If I had a choice, I would prefer to be a person who could take it or leave it and have no issues with alcohol/drugs/gambling. But I’m at peace with what is, and the way my life has unfolded. And certainly many blessings have come from my recovery process.
This is to anyone whose hearts I shattered in active addictions:
Before I identified myself as an Alcoholic or a drug Addict, my view of any addiction consisted of dirty needles and DUIs and jails and drinking out of brown paper bags under bridges (Sure that wasn’t me). I pictured bruises on children’s’ faces after fathers would stumble in drunk and screaming at 3 AM, and families begging their loved ones just to “stop.” I didn’t understand how someone could “let themselves” get to that point. They didn’t care about their wives? Their husbands? Their children?
Then I got drunk and high for the very first time. I felt peace like I had never known. The tornado in my head had finally ceased tossing words and time and emotions around, and I didn’t have to feel. I didn’t have to think about anything else, and I didn’t have to worry. I was no longer afraid.
Looking back, I know now I was an alcoholic and addict long before I picked up any drink or drug. My disease came from a hole inside of me, which I stuffed with thing after thing after thing and nothing was ever enough. Faster than I could have imagined, that wonderful feeling of being drunk and high became a necessity. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t eat, couldn’t LIVE without booze or drugs.
The very things that were destroying me, that were eating my soul, were the things that seemed to be keeping me alive. I lied, I cheated, I stole, I doubted myself and my friends and lost trust in everyone and everything around me. I was underwater with a ball and chain around my foot, and my disease was at the bottom celebrating its’ new victory. I didn’t feel guilt about the things I was doing. I didn’t allow myself to because all I knew was chasing that next thrill and high. I hurt so many people, and most of all I hurt myself.
My addictions dragged me down faster than I ever thought something could. I didn’t catch it in time, or maybe I just didn’t care. I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. My disease convinced me that the hell I was living was better than even thinking about getting clean. And I believed my insidious disease. It became the only thing in my life that I trusted.
When I went to rehab treatment I heard stories. I heard stories about people who had it so much harder than I did, and that they managed to stay clean for unfathomable amounts of time. I couldn’t hold together my first 22 hours, and this man/woman just celebrated 22 years of continuous sobriety ?! I couldn’t believe it. My path of becoming alive again, actually living, began right then and there. I didn’t know it yet, but the seed of hope had been planted.