How do we love those who not only appear unlovable in their mess but also hate us in it, as well? I had dodged fists and verbal attacks, put up bail money (only once), picked up my grand-kids from a ravaged house with a passed out mom, and cleaned out more hidden empty bottles than I can count. Still, the pain I felt when the handcuffs went on killed me. The hopelessness was burning through my soul the way Satan enjoys.
Five Minute Friday- Day 7 of 31 Writing Challenge
Today, I admitted something out loud-I am exhausted. The tug on my heart is more than I can bear. To withstand more of the same is beyond my ability.
Their Addiction-My Journey-Grief in Addiction
Pain in addiction.
Five Minute Friday-Still… a painful word
Wherever I hide, my feelings find me. I am struggling with this at the time.