Like a lot of people, I watch certain shows every week. On one of my shows, there’s a drug addict who recently relapsed. Her friends had an intervention, and then after walking out to go home she was talking to her fiancé. They decided to get sober together, and as they went to throw out the drugs…they decided to do it “one last time”. When the girl woke up in the middle of the night, she found that her fiancé had died in the night.
Now I know that it’s just a show, it’s all about drama. But it shook me. So many things about it bothered me. Part of it hurt, and I felt horrible wondering how many people that may have happened to. How many people finally decided to stop, and gave in that one last time…just to have it come crashing down on them. I don’t necessarily mean by death…but that “last time” they were going to drink…their wife finally had enough. Their family members finally said they were done trying to help. Or maybe they got in the car and killed someone. Maybe they made another stupid decision and hurt someone in another way.
It’s sad to me. Everything regarding addiction breaks my heart. In this show, the girl was so loved, and smart. But when she went back on drugs…she was angry, frantic, and she intentionally hurt the people she loved. The people that would do anything to help her. It just reminded me of my father. He is so smart and so loved. So many people would have dropped everything to help him. But now it’s too late. I wonder who would help if he asked for it now. He’s hurt so many people, intentionally, and unintentionally…people that love him.
That really got me to thinking. I don’t know if I’d go. If he needed something, or needed me to help him…I don’t know if I’d go. That sounds horrible, and it hurts me to even say it. But I really don’t know if I’d do it. I walked away because I’d heard the “I’ll change” speech one too many times. I don’t think I’d believe that he really wanted the help, and I don’t think I’d go try to find out. I’m fed up, and to me that “last time” doesn’t exist. There will always be another time.
Maybe that makes me a bad person. Maybe that makes me a pessimist. Maybe it means I’m going to hell. But I’m tired. I’m fed up, and I’m sick of falling for the lies. I want him to get better, and I want to help…but I’ve accepted that it won’t happen.
It also makes me sad that one day he will be gone. Because of his drug usage, and because of his problems…one day he will be gone. And when that day comes, I probably won’t have any kind of relationship with him. It will crush me, and I am entirely too aware of that fact.
I guess I need to stop watching TV. Then again…drug usage is everywhere…whether or not you see it. Can’t hide from it, can’t avoid it…you just have to face it. Like too many things in life. Oh well…more on all of this later…my mind is too jumbled tonight to try and put everything I’m thinking into words.
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