Why would I write about addiction, share all of my family secrets and issues, exposing us all to shame and ridicule by so many?
Simple answer, it was because I tried everything else and this was my last resort. I went to meetings spoke to counselors and therapists. I sat in rehabs while addicts shared their stories, me searching for answers. I cried privately. Darlene and I suffered in silence. Writing and sharing worked for me.
I am not discounting what works for others but I am making sense of what works for me.
Parenting an addict is a life of the immediate. If you aren't in the middle of a crisis you are waiting for the next one. There is no time to plan the next step. The next step is about to land on you as you wait.
Writing was a necessity for me. Maybe sharing publicly wasn't what I intended to do, in fact if you read my first posts in 2009 I made a point to be anonymous.
In the heat of the crisis/moment we all react. That is all we can do, many times it can be a matter of life or death for our loved one. When do we have time to deliberate and reflect?
Writing forced that time upon me. It caused me to examine more closely my personal experience. What happened in the crisis, what happened to me, what did I do in reaction and finally the most important point, what did I learn.
Writing held me accountable to myself. In quiet deliberation I could examine my own mistakes, not just blame everything on the drugs. There are answers to this insanity called addiction that makes sense. Writing helped me to find and ask the right questions.
My learning and advice. If you do not write, try it. You don't have to put it online for the world to see. It can be as private as you want. Write a journal or a diary or write on a scrap piece of paper. Put those words and feelings in black and white. Involve the other parts of your body in fixing your heart. Force your hand and fingers into the game. Make your eyes focus through the tears. It doesn't have to be profound it only has to be you.