A mom wrote to me: It’s 3:00 am, and my daughter went out to drink and use. We’ve been at this a long time. I’m writing to you because I’m awake in the middle of the night, sad, and completely powerless. I’m in this limbo of not knowing if she’s safe or not. I’m losing hope, while trying to keep hope and faith alive.
My reflection: I, too, tried countless ways to stop my son’s addiction. I dragged him to therapists, forced him into treatment centers, paid his bills, and tracked him down whenever he couldn’t be found. Fear took over my life.
Today’s Promise to consider: It took me fourteen years of watching my son chase his next high before I finally acknowledged that the power to stop him was outside my control. As humbling as it was, it was crucial for me to realize that no matter how much of myself I poured into his illness, the choice to stop was his alone. Today, I admit that I cannot control anyone other than myself. Let us keep hope alive and continue to believe and pray that our loved ones will come home, to themselves and our families.
I talked with a friend, whose son is suffering from substance abuse, and I was moved by her words to her son. “I believe in you,” she told him, “Sure I’m afraid of what the future holds for you and our family, but I don’t want to breathe my fear into you. I want to give you hope.”
A dad wrote to me: After 21 years of addiction, my son told me that during his darkest days he knew his family loved him and would welcome him back into the family when he decided to change his life. He told me that while he was working his 12 Steps, this knowledge – that home would stay close – is what gave him hope for the future. Never give up!
The Japanese Philosopher Diasaku Ikeda tells us: Hope is a flame that we nurture within our hearts. It may be sparked by someone else – by the encouraging words of a friend, relative, or mentor – but it must be fanned and kept burning through our own determination.
A mother wrote to me:I’ve found strength in a very close Nar-Anon group and continue to attend meetings regularly. My husband, my son’s sister, and I are here for him when HE is ready to change. We know we can’t force him to change – we’ve tried. After three failed rehab attempts, we have nothing else to give him, only love.
Dr. MacAfee wrote, The addiction story is a microcosm of isolation, fear, terror, confusion, and secrecy turned inward on itself in a never-ending litany of questions: “what went wrong?” “who is to blame?” “why can’t you stop?” and “why are you doing this to us?” This drama is far more prevalent than most people realize, until addiction enters our homes and becomes a part of our own stories.
A mom wrote this poem:
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