“Learn to face things as they come, and when they come, with calm deliberation. We may not be able to control events, but we can control our attitudes toward them.” Strange that this was the random quote I found the day I finally decided to start this blog. I guess that pretty much sums up everything I could ever get into in my writing. Situations will arise, sometimes crazy situations that make no sense…and you just have to let them come. You have to adjust, and when you do…you just might learn something.
There are so many stories and topics I have to talk about, and it’s overwhelming to even think of where to start. It will all stem from a life of addiction. Now, I’m not the addict and I don’t live with the addict. But I used to. I used to have an entirely different life behind closed doors…one that many people have a hard time believing.
I’ve gone through therapy, I’ve gone to group meetings, and I’ve done research. Hell, I spent 20 years of my life trying to understand how I could “fix” my addict. I mean there must be something I could do to make him stop using right? He was acting crazy because of me anyways…he told me so. If only I could pull myself together, be a better support system, and keep him happy…he wouldn’t have to use anymore.
Sure in therapy counselors repeatedly told me how it wasn’t my fault, and how I had to fix me for ME…not for him. Yea…sure. I couldn’t take them seriously. Yes, they went to school for psychology, they’d done specific research on helping people recover from a life surrounding addiction…wonderful. They hadn’t lived it. They hadn’t spent every day in fear wondering whether or not their family member was going to end up dead. Now I can’t say they didn’t help me get over some of my psychological issues at the time…because they did. I learned tools to help myself get out of the darkness of depression I was in. But they didn’t give me the answers I wanted, and according to me…they didn’t understand like they thought they did.
In meetings, things were a little better. People finally kind of understood what I was going through. They understood the compulsive lying, they understood the fears, and they understood the stress that came with this lifestyle we’d been thrown into. But there were still too many differences for me. I couldn’t make the connection that they all could because I always seemed to have one major difference in my story.
I spent hours consulting “Dr. Google,” and desperately trying to find some loophole in addiction. “If you spin around three times, wish REALLY hard, and say some spell in another language…their addiction will be broken.” Quick hint…there’s no such thing as a magic fix for an addict. As much as I’d love to be the one to figure it out…I’ve finally accepted that there is not a damn thing you can do to fix an addict. All you can do…is fix yourself.
You hear about people whose spouses are addicts, alcoholics, or both. You hear about parents whose children are having problems with drugs and alcohol. But what about the kids? What about the children born into the world of an addict, who can’t do a damn thing about it? Those are the voices you never hear. But I’m the daughter of a severe drug addict…and I’m one voice you won’t be able to quiet. I may be only 20 years old…but everything I've gone through has helped shape who I’ve become as an adult.