An uncle wrote to me: My sister has a son who had a lot of problems growing up, including drugs. He is in another program (again, one of many attempts at rehab), but this one is a year-long program. It is amazing to me how many similarities there are in stories of addiction, only the people change. My sister has done a lot of enabling. Her husband turned his back on the family a number of years ago. Tears up any family dealing with this type of thing. I’m not very optimistic, but we can hope.
My reflection: At one of my son’s first rehab centers, the counselor told me that for every one addict, four others are affected. The chaos spirals out and engulfs those of us who are connected to the family. This uncle suffers for his nephew, but also for his sister. His sister’s husband turned his back, and her brother knows that she has enabled her son. The disease sucks us in and we all feel the pain.
Today’s Promise to consider: In the miasma that is addiction, people who love us don’t know what to do to take away our hurt. I know that my extended family suffered for my son, my family, and me. I never needed their judgment or sadness, but I did need their love and support. Today, I won’t isolate myself. I will accept their love.
A young man in recovery sent me this song 
Just keep loving is all I want to say. Even when it seems impossible. Loving yourself enough to know the boundaries to keep and loving our children enough to know when to let go. Hope always and ever. Love is the first response.
A father wrote to me: Our son has a gambling addiction and after more than five years of heartache he has lost his wife, many jobs, stolen from everyone, and now faces legal issues. He has been to various treatment centers and resides today in a halfway house. As a father, I try to understand the pain my wife endures when her son, who could do no wrong, spirals out of control. I always felt it was my place to protect and fix things. I can’t fix this.
A mother wrote to me: My son walked out of his fourth rehab, and in November of last year my husband kicked him out of our house, again. I couldn’t help but mourn. I lay on my bed and didn’t move for two days. He’s presently in an outpatient methadone program. His addiction has claimed him for five years. Methadone is not the answer I wanted for my son. I want to see him whole, clean, and well again. His drug addiction has had such a big impact on our lives. 
Felix Scardino, LCSW, a friend of mine wrote: Take care of yourself while you try to understand that you cannot support another person unless you keep your own footing. The following analogy helps me: It will not serve either of us if I jump into quicksand with a person to save him. I’ll best help the person if I stand strong and throw him or her a rope. To care for myself I might need to take a break from listening or even choose not to be with another if their problems overwhelm me.
A friend of mine wrote: With addiction, we need to be cautious not to malign the reputation of our loved one by confessing their troubles, even when they cause us trouble. Although their behavior may sometimes be unacceptable, I recognize that they’re deep in the clutches of their disease.
A daughter of addicted parents wrote to me: I still struggle with the pain of what it’s like to live with and love addicts. I still struggle with issues of anger and despair over all of the ‘what if’s’ and ‘what could have been’s’ that circle around and around in my mind. But it is always cathartic to hear other people’s tales of their battles with this disease – whether they’re the addict or love someone who is. It reminds me that I’m not alone.
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