Sorry if anyone is reading this. (all 2 of you). Going off the script here. Today is a tough one. My son who has been in recovery for the past 6 months is actively using again. He has been living in my house after having been homeless for several months then a brief stint in jail and rehab. So, we are kicking him out. He has nowhere to go. He has burned all of his bridges. I don’t want to send him out in this cold, so I think we are giving him the weekend. It hurts so much.
I hate addiction. I hate how it just skips along its merry way and touches down like a tornado and obliterates what it wants. I hate that people don’t understand. I hate that I worry about what people understand. I hate that I can’t wrap my son in my arms and fix him. I hate that I know if I allow him to stay in my house I am enabling him. I hate that I know what enabling means. I hate that I know what d.o.c. is and I hate that I know what suboxone and vivitrol and narcan are. I hate addiction. I hate that it gets into a family seeps into all the crevices and poisons everyone.