Hopefully, you're getting a little bit better at coping with your child's addiction every single day. I know it's a struggle, I'm there, too. But, with a little bit of time to come to terms with things and some personal attention, I truly believe that no matter what my child chooses to do with her situation, I will be able to live a happy, healthy and truly wonderful life.
Now, I'm not going to say I won't still hurt. I'm not going to pretend that I don't miss that kid who played DJ whenever we would drive somewhere. I'm not going to tell you that I'm okay running errands by myself when I used to have a constant companion. I mean, it's been years, but sometimes I look to the empty passenger seat and, for just a moment, my throat fills with tears.
This is when I turn up the radio (myself) or make a call. These are my personal battles. Not being able to feel anything about my child's addiction when I really need to is another very recent personal battle I'm going through. It's like most of the time I'm just numb when it comes to my oldest daughter and her battle against addiction. It's like something in me has just sort of, turned off.
Here's an example: She was talking to me about getting married next year. It's a thing that should be so wonderful, right? I should be able to live vicariously through her joy, but here's the thing... She was higher than a kite, as my mom would say, and I could see the angry track marks all over her arms. How could I take pleasure in this moment?
I mean, her boyfriend is fine. They've been together for almost five years. They're together, and I have a feeling if they are going to get clean it will have to be together. He's my granddaughter's father and, truth be told, when he's clean he's really kind of a good guy. Most importantly, he loves my daughter. Like really loves her. It's probably a little sick and codependent right now, but it's love and I like that.
Yet, somehow I'm listening - sort of - and not really thinking anything. It's not like imagining the day with joy in my heart. It's not like being filled with pride at the woman that my child is becoming it's like... It's like when you're in the middle of an important call and someone in the room starts telling you a story. You're sort of hearing it, but you're mostly not because you really need to pay attention to what's going on in the call.
That's where I'm at kind of. Like, I hear what she's saying, but since she's high, I can't really pay much attention to it because I'm paying attention to keeping my cool. I believe that this is why I can't feel anything about my child's addiction. Because I'm tired of feeling. I'm tired of hurting, because when it comes to her, that's the only thing I feel usually.
You might be here, too, and that's totally normal I think. You probably will go through these stages. I know I have. Sometimes, you're all full of hope. To the point that you're almost a child about the hope. Sometimes, though, you just want to hide from the sniffing nose, the glassy eyes and pink cheeks, and the track marks that are a blaring reminder of your child's path of destruction.
So, lately, I've been a little shut down. It's an effort to protect myself, I think. And I believe this is normal, too. After all, you can't pick up the pieces and make your life good if you aren't able to function normally. I know that this will change soon. It usually does.
I'm probably pretty unstable that way. I know therapists who would love to get into my brain... To tell me I'm wrong, but I'm okay with all this. I don't need to be analyzed and I don't need to be told how to cope. I'm getting pretty good at coping, I think.
I should, it's been a while.
Not only that but I thrive on hope and I think part of why I can't feel anything when it comes to my daughter's addiction is that I hope. I need hope like others need food. We can't be okay without having something to hope for. I like okay. So I choose to hope, but you can't hope if you feel despair.
I guess the point for this post is that if you can't feel, it's okay for a while. It's your mind's way of saying that you're close to overload. Your heart needs a break and I believe it's kind of a defense mechanism. If it goes on for too long, you should definitely seek help because you're probably depressed, but honestly, who's not depressed when they have a grown child that is battling an addiction?
For now, for this moment, breathe. Don't try to process it just let it be. Don't try to beat yourself up and don't try to make your world make sense right now. Just... Breathe. Be grateful for the good, and pray for things to get better and try to trust that your prayers are being heard.
Until next time, be well. Take care of you, take care of those who fight this battle with you, and find joy when and where it comes.
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