in home treatment

[whorella mundane]

first ... you can't expect an addict to suddenly stop behaving like an addict.

all checks, money, valuables and car keys must be locked up
with a key you hang around your neck - can't let it out of your sight.
not even to take a shower and you have to sleep with it.

you can't let the addict take a car.
you have to take him to his appointments.
it's a lot of work.
yes ... like he is a child.

but if you use the parasite metaphor for the addiction,
it gives you the perspective you need.

see ... i'm so lucky to have the job i do.
to have the flexibility i need.

yeah you can't expect the addict to do anything on his own.

but the meetings ... there are things that have to be mandatory.
and the addict has to know he has no where else to go.

and relapses are a part of recovery ... just like with other diseases
but we don't blame the patient.

and you can't expect anyone else to help
or even listen to you. no shoulders to cry on.

FINE. I THRIVE UNDER THESE CONDITIONS
FOR I, TOO, AM NOW CORNERED.

i will not let him die or wonder the streets.
i wanted only one thing for him ... i wanted him to know he was loved.
that was it. the one thing i longed for my whole life.

i knew my family loved me but they didn't really tolerate me.
my mom loves me. my sister loved me. tim loved me.

now ... i don't care if i'm loved. i will be love.
i will figure this out and what i learn will save thousands of lives and families.

i can FEEL it
but of course if that were totally true
i wouldn't be here writing to convince myself
but still! it's a start!

so i am the only one to cheer me on
to hold my hand and understand.

i will not do what i hate
because i will act out of love

all my hopes and all my dreams are so simple now:
i want my son back.

and he will be going through withdrawal probably for months
giving how long he's been using. i will be patient.

i will want to throw in the towel and then remember what's at stake.

a parent at a meeting said "i told my daughter i'd be devastated if she died but i'd recover." yeah ... we recover. but there will never be another xmas that's the same. i mean even now ... the candles don't burn as brightly, flickering as the breath of our laughter passes through the light.

i'm just not willing to let him die.
i just can't. and HOW CAN'T PEOPLE UNDERSTAND?

because of all of this enabling bullshit