I’m breathing oxygen by Grace, living on borrowed time, and often I feel overcome with guilt.
Why me and not them? Why not now? Did we do enough? When will it be their time? Have we gone and done too much? Do we forgive seventy times seven times? No, forget that. Have I forgiven seventy times seven? What if I’ve lost count? Am I wrong? Why does this all feel so bad? Does anyone else know what they’re doing?
Loving a loved one in active addiction is not easy. I am sorry if people disagree. It really doesn’t feel as easy as I read in tweets and in books. It’s more complicated.
Because I am in recovery myself, am I really a hypocrite as I have been accused of being? Is knowing that God knows my motives and my hearts desires going to be enough to quiet the judgment of my family members?
Something as simple as deciding whether or not to answer the 3 a.m phone calls or to give the ride or not can send my heart into a tailspin if I allow my mind to whisper sweet nothings into my ear. I feel devastated no matter what choice I make so it usually doesn’t matter either way.
It’s a mess and if you allow it, it’ll wreak havoc all over your life too.
So where to next, then?
What is next?
Everyone seems to have answers ready to dish out, yet when you are in the midst of someone else’s active addiction and their consequences of choices they make that affect you or other people, things don’t always proceed in a linear, streamlined fashion.
Things look and feel more like a whirlwind; picture a popcorn machine without a lid. We are all really just slipping around, turning, bending, and scrambling to apply our head knowledge even when our hearts are running around picking up pieces without trying to inadvertently kill anyone or look too much like an uneducated idiot.
How do we draw these clearly defined lines that move and sway and change with the wind, changing seasons, and days of the week? We know to take breaks and set boundaries. When things change, we all realign and the grainy picture of what’s left slowly forms into something new, yet again.
The books, blogs, meetings, podcasts, TED talks, and ladies I can reach to and seek out for support are invaluable. I am the last person on earth who wants to contribute to the ridiculous stigma that surrounds issues such as these; yet, often I find myself reeling in anger and disbelief at the actions of my loved one. I question which side I am on. I feel confused and frustrated. Then, I will swing back again to compassion and understanding, because I’ve been there, and have done the same things, if not even more deplorable.
But I am not disloyal to the recovery movement because I am experiencing human emotion. I am just a person doing the best that I can do, who also knows that my loved one is not less than or disposable because he has a disorder.
Ultimately, my relationship with God is always what carries me over the threshold every time.
I am reminded that my only job here is to love. That’s it. Show it, send it, express it.
If the ups, downs, and highs and lows of life feel overwhelming, that is because this life is, oftentimes, confusing and overwhelming and really hard to navigate.
There’s absolutely no shame in that.
Sometimes being a tiny part of a severely dysfunctional family ravaged by addiction is more complex than anyone can put into words. There aren’t always answers or remedies. Again, I am reminded that seeking refuge in the Lord does not mean we will come away with answers or things will be fixed this side of heaven.
I believe that it is through the journey – that’s where we develop wisdom and strength and endurance to keep going when it hits again.
When things are grainy, fuzzy, and swirling around us.
That’s where it’s at.
When we seek answers or rest or a general feeling of peace about that one thing.
That is a huge opportunity to get even closer to God.
Just me. Sitting right out in the raw center of my personal faith journey, allowing God to be God.
Asking him the hard questions.
Going to him when I don’t understand what the next right thing actually is.
Trusting that all things will work together for something better than I can ever imagine.
It might not feel like it right now, and it certainly doesn’t feel like it, but that is what I choose to believe.
Seasons of waiting are always usually the ones that reflect my spiritual temperature.
My actions during these times are what matters most.
I have learned that I should not ever measure my emotional health based on whether or not I am currently experiencing peace or turmoil, but on my actions during those times.
What am I doing to cope?
Who am I seeking?
What am I running to?
Who am I running to be closer to?
Where am I getting my information from?
Those are the real questions I am trying to focus my energy on.
I don’t have to worry.
God is where he always is and I am learning to hand it over quicker each time.
Active addiction and toxic dysfunction are one of the grey-est of grey areas. The answers aren’t always sticking out in front of me, and I am learning that’s okay and I don’t always have to be okay.
I can boldly and honestly take it all before the Lord, without having to have any answers at all.
I don’t have to worry about anyone’s judgment or scrutiny of my action or inaction. It’s okay if I feel vulnerable and uncomfortable right at the feet of the Lord as I kneel down with gaping wounds and questions, while at the same time boldly proclaiming my love for my loved one. яндекс
And for right now that is going to have to be enough.