I listened from the other room as my husband roared, “Get up, it’s time for work.” Then, I heard his stomping as he slammed the door.
Addiction is tough. You see potential and believe in your child, but missteps in their journey leave you unsure.
This is the second job in as many months. If you want to stay employed, show up daily, on time, and do what you’re told to do. At almost 30, your parents shouldn’t have to wake you up like you’re in grade school. We set an example of loyalty and responsibility; it was not followed.
Some days, I feel I am still raising kids (not including my grandkids currently in my care). Addictive behavior does not promote critical practices for success. No, it only encourages self-reliance on high and terrific scheming skills to stay in addiction. If addicts applied themselves to sober living the way they do to drug living, they’d be filled with worth and confidence.
In this phase of recovery, the eggshells lie everywhere. Each step feels forbidden. We fear the sound of failure, upset, or discourse. We don’t want regression. However, we don’t hold recovery in our hands; they do. Not everything can be held back in fear of hurt feelings.
I carefully choose my response, my words, my place. My husband struggles to hold back his frustration and says it like it is. Can I balance the swirling chaos? No, and I don’t want to. The stress affects my health in multiple ways. I matter, and I choose to allow myself the space to heal and recover.
Their addiction, my journey.
This battle eats at your core and terrorizes your mind. If left unchecked, you become a victim of their war. Financially, we can step back and stop filtering money into their habit in innocent ways (paying bills, handing money over for food, bail money, etc.). We can create a safe distance emotionally, though it still hurts. But thoughts are hijacked. Turning off your mind is, in my opinion, the most challenging task. At times, it is impossible.
As I work through understanding age means nothing, I search for ways to increase responsibility for someone in recovery. I am carefully maneuvering life without overstepping or reaching. This is a blind challenge. The further we go, the less prepared I feel.
All I have is prayer. My hope is in Christ alone. Everything else is fluid and not in my control.
I declare, I am good with that!