Liz Moore wrote: In a moment of clarity, Kacey (my addicted sister) told me that time spent in addiction feels looped. Each morning brings with it the possibility of change, each evening the shame of failure. The only task becomes the seeking of the fix. The days themselves become chartable, according to how much time, in sum, the user spends in comfort or in pain. Confounding all of this are periods of sobriety, which occur voluntarily on some occasions – when, for example, Kacey checks herself into local rehab facilities with dubious success rates – and involuntarily on others: when Kacey finds herself in trouble and then in prison. These periods, too, become part of the pattern: waves of sobriety, followed by relapse, followed by larger waves of active use.
Excerpted from Liz Moore’s Long Bright River, pg.186
My reflection: There is much about the passage above that touched me, especially the sentence, Each morning brings with it the possibility of change, each evening the shame of failure. The only task becomes the seeking of the fix. Fifteen years ago, my son told me, “They say that addicts aren’t afraid to die, they’re afraid to live without drugs.” I still remember those words.
Today’s Promise to consider: As much as other people can’t really understand what we parents go through as we continue to love our suffering child, neither can we really understand what our loved ones endure when locked in the grip of their illness. The trauma of addiction is bigger than we are big; its tentacles and indignity more insidious than we can ever imagine. Today, I will hold compassion in my heart for my loved one. I can’t fix the addiction, but I can pray and hope my child comes back to himself and our family.4443