I liken living with an alcoholic to living in a war-zone.
Like one who lives in deceit, I stone myself and call for help
Your wound grows and grows
It slits my throat from vein to vein.
I put sand in you wound
I put in your wound a giant, and around myself I light the fire.
—Hoda Al-Namani, I remember I was a Point, I was a Circle
When I read this, I thought, this is me. This is my life. But, I’m not living in Beirut. What’s that about?
If you are an addict, I’m sorry. This story isn’t for you. There are hundreds of stories and resources for addicts. It often seems it’s the families of addicts who are forgotten and who largely suffer in silence.
There will always be another excuse, another mistake, another
relapse, another addiction or anger about a parent’s addiction that they
need their lifetime and yours to get over. With addicts there is just
always something.
Read full article at www.elephantjournal.com
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