Dear sister, brother, friend, family member, parent,etc.,
First let me start by saying, I know and understand you don't want to continue on with drugs being not only a vital part of your life, but your life entirely.
I know you didn't want this disease to take over. I know you didn't want to become dependent on whatever was available to you that day. But, more importantly, I know, not just because you tell me constantly but because I see it in your eyes...
I know you don't want the same life for me; constantly telling me how you don't want me to follow in your shoes, how you wish you never started, and you don't want me to even be around drugs. I hate to be the one to break it to you, you did give me this life. No, you didn't make me an addict, but you made me love one. I don't think you understand how tiring it is.
Now please forgive me and take a second before reacting to the above statement. I know it sounds like I am angry. Guess what? I am. I have accepted that this is not your fault any longer and you are sick, but what I will not accept is the pain, heartbreak, desperation, and false sense of hope you have given us, yes us, meaning you and I and everyone who loves you, every time you claimed you were going to stop. Do you know why? Because every time you tell me it is the last and that you want this for real, we both end up in a hospital... except I'm in the waiting room and your in a small room fighting for your life. So now we both face the reality of your actions. The very real life consequences. I could never walk away from you because I do love you. You are my family. So please understand I do love you and I don't blame you, but again, loving you is exhausting. I live in a constant sense of fear for our lives. Yes our. Yours because I dread the day I receive that one phone call that this time they could not bring you back. And mine because that is the day my life will end too. It haunts me even when I sleep.
The days I don't hear from you are bad, but the extended periods of time that you won't answer me are worse. That's when I know it's bad. It's almost a sick twisted game. I feel like I'm rolling dice, I never know which you I am going to get. It truly amazes me how one day you seem so full of life. The dark circles underneath your eyes are gone. You've gained some weight back. You are speaking clearly and logically. You begin to work again and even talk about going back to school. We joke around with each other. We make plans for next week. Except we both know there won't be a next week. This is the beginning of our game.
This is the part where you begin to avoid my calls and eventually me entirely. This is the part you go back to your "family". You go back to the person who abused you. You go back to making choices that ruin your life. You go back to the drug that owns your soul. Most importantly, you turn your back on me. This is the part that hurts the most. These binge periods are the kind that end with a stranger on the other end of my phone telling me that once again, you've overdosed, but yet again you got lucky and they brought you back. Sick isn't it? Let that sentence sink in. "You got lucky", there is nothing lucky about this disease. There is absolutely NOTHING lucky about this disease. There is nothing lucky about constantly overdosing.
There is nothing lucky about ruining your life. There is nothing lucky about destroying your friends and family. There is nothing lucky about never being ready to give up the poison that ruins your life. You didn't get lucky, you just didn't die. So please, if there are any doctors reading this one, stop telling me how lucky my loved one got, because guess what, NO ONE involved in this is lucky. We will be lucky the day that my loved one beats their addiction. But today, we have just made it through another day and continue to pray we will both make it through the rest alive.
I love you, but loving you is exhausting.