Last.Damn.Call

And the letter of “I hope one day…”

I debated heavily if I should share this. And then I prayed about it. Many times. I decided I think it is worth sharing.

Eli and I spoke to a group of college students a few weeks ago, and the instructor asked each of them to write us a thank you note. She did not read them so they could write anything they wanted without feeling judged or ridiculed.

It was an amazing gift to receive. Some of the notes were short and to the point…”Thanks for sharing your story” or “It was inspirational to hear about people who embrace recovery.” But this one hit me hard. I wanted to protect the person’s privacy/identity, obviously.

That one line…I hope that one day my mom can be as strong as you two are. Wow. This hit me in a way that is difficult to explain. Honestly, and most importantly, this could have been written by one of my own children a couple years ago. And my heart hurts just acknowledging that. We have come so far, but there is always still work to do. For now, by the grace of God, we are in such a sweet place.

I have no idea who the author of this letter is. Obviously, it is a college aged student. One who’s probably seen and heard and handled a lot. Things even adult children aren’t (nor should be) equipped to deal with. Not all addicts and alcoholics are violent or aggressive or abusive. Some shut themselves off from their family. Become unavailable whether they reside under the same roof or not. Others make it impossible to believe that people can or ever will be dependable. Or capable of change. Some maintain some type of normalcy (at least for a little while). Some are closed off emotionally. Most think they are doing everyone a favor by physically staying but being ghost like in all the other ways (emotionally especially).

Most addicts and alcoholics think they are the only ones suffering from their disease. It’s a selfish disease like that. It’s not intentional. It’s not even usually recognizable to the person who is slowly taking their own life. It’s selfish without the person even knowing that they are being selfish. The cloud of unawareness that surrounds an addict/alcoholic is massive and completely engulfs the person. Mind, body, and soul.

I don’t have the answers. I wish I did. I wish I could wave a magic wand and help out this young adult. But I can’t. And I hope they know they can’t fix it either. It’s not their responsibility. And that it isn’t their fault. It’s similar to when parents get divorced and young children think it’s their fault, and maybe if they had behaved better or eaten all their vegetables or went to bed when asked or whatever thought process goes through a tiny child’s mind…that’s the closest thing I can think of to compare it to.

Whether you are the parent, child, sibling, aunt, grandparent, teacher, co-worker, friend, whatever…you cannot fix anyone. You cannot make them not want to self-destruct. It’s a terrible situation so many people find themselves in. Do you cut them off? Give them an ultimatum? Kick them out? This selfish disease immediately makes you feel like the bad guy. What if they become homeless? What if they don’t have any food to eat? What if they get hurt? And, on the other hand, the addict/alcoholic throws a thousand excuses your way about how you are supposed to love them! Take care of them…how could you kick them out, knowing they have no place to go? They are your blood, a person you are supposed to be there for no matter what. It’s a selfish disease. All the way around.

Can you love someone to death? Believe me, you can. My sister was so “loved” by her husband (actually all 3 of her husbands, but that’s another story) that she died way too young. Because his “love” couldn’t say that enough was enough. Is he the bad guy in this? No. I dislike him strongly, and might even find some solace in blaming him, but even if he had shown tough love, I can’t say she wouldn’t have found some other low life to support her and her habits. He couldn’t fix her. I couldn’t either. No one could. Because she didn’t want to be “fixed”. No matter how much you want a loved one to get sober…they have to want it, too.

This one sentence from a student whose class I spoke to really made me think about so many things. It made me think about how selfish I was. How my kids never deserved to have parents who were unavailable both emotionally and sometimes physically. How blessed we are now to be on the path we are on. One of gratefulness. One of enjoying the small things. A path that God had plotted out all along, and we just had to clear the cobwebs and clouds of self-doubt and selfishness. We couldn’t get see the light leading the way because we were surrounded by darkness. Lost in some of the loneliest times and places that I never want to visit again.

I would like to tell the young person who wrote this one sentence that someone hears them. I do. I honest to God do. And I will pray for them because that’s all I know to do for now. And hopefully having heard our story gives that person some hope that things can turn around. The selfish disease of addiction is a story we all know too well. But we also know the ending is waiting to be written. Ultimately and sometimes unfortunately, no one can take the pen and write the ending but the author (addict) themself.

In the meantime, prayer is free and has been known to work (wink, wink;)

Here is a prayer I found:

“Almighty God, I ask for Your mercy and grace to touch [Name]’s heart and bring healing into their life. Lord, please give them strength to break free from the chains that bind them and guide them towards hope and renewal.”

God Bless and thank you for taking time to read this.

LAST.DAMN.CALL.: M. Cox, Lindsey: 9798299331349: Amazon.com: Books