I Was An Addict Who Chose To Love An Addict And Here We Are Today

Has your heart ever been so raw that everything hurts?  No matter what it is you feel assaulted and beat down and wronged.

The slightest situation makes you feel as though the world is caving in and going to end.

Man!  It's tough!

It's only a moment in time and it's usually a lie.

I have a beautiful life.

I have my peace, I have great joy, I sleep well at night and even though I experience mental illness and depression from time to time, I am well.

I made a decision to love someone, knowing that someone was messed up, had never had a normal life and nothing to offer me.

That's what love does.  It believes the best of everyone, it's not looking for anything for itself and it has this uncontrollable hope that springs up and believes miracles can happen, no matter what.

I've spent seventeen years with and without the same man.

He's done me dirty, stolen from me, made me feel less then, left me alone and left me.

Underneath my anger and frustration and disappointment that love is still there, because that's the choice I made.

He's an addict, he's always been an addict and I'd like to think he's not always going to be an addict, but I can't see the future, I can only go on what I have already experienced.

When you love someone like that, you go through the things you go through with them, go through things alone without them and have a life to live outside of their drama you learn to turn your heart on and off like a water faucet.

You have to or you'll die from the disappointment and hurt.

You have to to make it to work every day, to pay your bills, to love your kids, your grand kids, those around you.  You have to learn to live outside the parameters of the addiction and what that does to your life.

You try to second guess them, to protect them, to help them and you try to protect yourself.

There's no protection in love, it's all in, or it's not love.

Seventeen years.

For seventeen years I've tried to help him, to get him help, to be the best wife I could possibly be, to be a best friend and to be the example.

I was homeless, strung out and jumping in and out of cars when I met him and made that decision to love him.  I loved him before I ever even knew his name, the moment I laid eyes on him.  I loved him.

I knew what he was, I knew what I was, there were no disillusions in that decision.

We fought like cats and dogs, I hid, he searched, it's a wonder still, all these years later.

It's truly sad, some of it, seventeen years.  I can only remember a couple of Thanksgivings, two or three Christmas's, a couple of birthdays.  When you break down 17 years, him serving time for over ten of them, getting high three fourths of the rest of the time, you're left with a small amount of happiness and memories.

My fondest memory is a recent one, probably three or four years ago, dancing in the living room to Al Green one Saturday night.

An addict can't take you out to eat, can't pay for your movie tickets, can't help pay bills or buy groceries.  An addict can't keep their promises.

I stopped taking his calls from the jail back in November because I can't and won't go back.  I can't live that way anymore.  You jump out of bed to make sure they are still there, you have to know where the keys are, you have to know where the money is, you wonder if you hid those things well enough, you have to be in control which makes you out of control.  When they leave the house to go to the convenience store you wonder if they will come back and there's this huge rock in the bottom of your stomach all the time.  You don't trust anything they say or do because they've never given you any reason to, but still that hope springs eternal.

He got out yesterday morning and I got the dreaded phone call, the one I didn't want.

I yelled, I cussed, I cried and for the first time ever, probably, I was completely honest with him about how I feel about him, what I'm willing to do and not do, what he would have to do to get back in my good graces and how I am so sick of his shit.

The last thing he said to me was, "I'm willing to do anything I have to to have my wife and my family back."

He was in the streets getting high before dark.

You have your resolve and then they come along carrying all that love you've had for them and you get all twisted up with hope again, wanting to help, wanting to believe, wanting something better for them.

You think about all the people you love in the streets and how their lives look so similar and everyone needs to be loved, because love wins.

You think about who you are and how you should treat this person, because they are sick and need help.

You think about how people are going to think you're stupid the minute they hear the first piece of news about him, or her.  

You think about how others will judge you because you've done this so many times before.

All the terrible stuff you've already been through goes through your mind and your heart suddenly feels sick and heavy.

No matter how loudly your brain is screaming your heart has that flame of hope that springs eternal and you want to do whatever is best for them in the situation, because love covers a multitude of sins.  Love keeps giving and forgiving and giving again.

In those moments it doesn't matter what they've done, how wronged you've been, how deep your disappointment and betrayal is, you just want to help.

Let's keep it real this is someone you love, this is not some entity out to get you and suck you back into the life you used to have.

One thing I've known since the day I left the streets was if I wanted to go and get high, I was going to get high and the choice was always mine.  I've had plenty of money to do it, been in all the right places to get it, still go to the streets today.  The choice has never crossed my mind, even if the thought were there.  I chose.

I was sick and tired of being sick and tired and I chose to love him.

I've spent the money to divorce him twice and I'm still his wife.

When my court date came up last time, I just couldn't hurt him that way, no matter what he'd done to me.  I just didn't have the heart to do it.

Is he a nice guy?  I really don't know anymore.  I know he's never been mean to me, he's never put his hands on me and when he's good he's really good.  He's likeable, friendly, and outgoing just like me.

Underneath all that junk is the person he really is.

I've had glimpses of that person over the years and that person is who has kept me loving him, looking for the good in him, believing for his miracle.

The heart wants what the heart wants and man oh man the things the heart wants.

Underneath all that garbage and drama and bullshit is a man I chose to love seventeen years ago.

I've chosen not to take the same roads I've traveled with him and I've had to shut him out of my life, but that does not stop my heart from being my heart.

I don't want to be his wife anymore but I don't want to hurt him either.

I know that sounds crazy, but I don't hold grudges and I used to be him, miserable, strung out, longing for more and only a fool would believe he isn't unhappy and longing for more.

I sit here tonight knowing he must be miserable, knowing he blew it and only that.  I can't read his mind, I don't know any more than that, but I know if I the situation was reversed I would be very unhappy and trying to figure out how to fix it even though I messed it up.

I'm saying all of this because the most beautiful thing about life is we are never alone and we are not the only one.  Someone needs to hear this because their own heart is hurting and they are in a catch twenty two with someone just like him.  There's a mother who is almost ninety years old in Atlanta Georgia tonight whose heart is broken yet again, a heart that has been broken many more times than my own.  There are others all over just like us, who don't understand, who have been wronged, disappointed, and ripped off by someone they love who is strung out on drugs.

Someone has to talk about it!

Someone has to say something for everyone.

Someone has to tell their story so someone else can survive.

I don't struggle with it, but I know there are many that do.

I'm on both sides of the fence, I've been there and now I'm somewhere else.

I want someone, anyone who needs it to be encouraged because this is not the end, even though it may feel like it some times.

I want someone who is struggling to get some courage to keep facing today, because no one is promised tomorrow and it's a journey that's difficult even under the best of circumstances.

We get so caught up in the happening of it all, we lose sight of the people who are trapped in their own choices, messed up, messing up, destroying their lives and the lives of those they love because they need drugs to cope with some underlying issue they just can't face yet.

I want you to know there is life after drugs and it can be so abundant, filled with joy and peace.  I want you to know you are not the only one and the more you face it and talk about it and make others aware of it, the more people you have in your corner fighting for you, cheering you on.  I want you to know that no matter what you deserve to have a great life, to be well and have peace in your heart.

What you've done is not what's important, what you're doing now is.

I'm living proof you can make it.

I'm living proof its not going to kill you.

I'm living proof that love really does win.

I want you to know that even if you mess up, it's not the end and you can make the choice to start over, minute by minute.  Life is starting over and over again.

It doesn't matter if those you've hurt have forgiven you because God's forgiveness has always been there, over and over and over again and will always be there, over and over and over again.  He doesn't hold grudges just like me, stop holding grudges with yourself!

Give yourself a break, you've made a long and painful journey to get to today.

You are valuable, you are loved, you are more than enough!

Keep trying, keep getting back up and brushing yourself off, you're going to make it!

If no one else believes in you I do!

I have to protect myself, so he can't come back, but I still want to help him and given the opportunity I will, for now I have to turn off that water faucet and keep moving like I always do, whether it feels fair to me or not.

I'm okay with that.

I'm sending you lots of love.

I'm sending you courage.

Don't give up.