Loving an addict is the hardest thing I have ever experienced, filled with heartache, disappointment, despair.
Loving an addict is being filled with pain that could only be surpassed by the death of a child.
Many words come to mind, but one jumps out.
Anguish.
I feel as if I've aged ten years in the past few.
I'm reaching out, finding support and knowledge through the library, the internet, other addicts.
I'm learning.
And growing.
And dying a little more with each binge.
But good days come back around.
Long enough.
Long enough to remind me why I keep holding on in the dark.
The sun comes out and normalcy seems to just appear one daysuddenly, magically.
Just when you think you can't take another small breeze...
when you are completely drained and are beginning to think that the darkness has come to stay.
Out of the blue, an unexpeceted change.
The hurricanes are gone just as quickly as they appeared.
Was today a magic day?
Did a unicorn fly over the moon and sprinkle magic dust upon us?
Happy, healthy, everyting seems right.
Plans are made and hopes are rekindled.
I feel high.
We're there now.
And it feels so good.
And I'm growing, I'm working on filling my life with things that bring me joy.
And those things are what make me strong.
They build my strength.
Thank God.
I needed this.
To breath.
Join Now
