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.

1 thought on “SCREAMING”

  1. HATE—It’s power rivals love’s…I didn’t know what hate was until my son became a heroin addict. I had strong feelings of dislike, distaste, anger, and disappointment toward/about various misfortunes in my life and injustices in the world, but I never experienced the venom of hate until heroin! Before Heroin, I had tasted anger, but not RAGE. So, I understand how you feel –and by reading your writings, I feel understood. Thank you for that-it’s a gift. 💛

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