Through recovery work, I have learned to stop expecting people to be different and to reduce the frustration that comes from trying to cause a person to get better, or trying to mold them into how I think they should be (even if it’s reasonable). When I put these demands and expectations down, I can love people for who they actually are.
If I'm out at a party at a friend's house, staying present in the party, in the moment, and enjoying every single moment with them, because that's where I'm at right now ... [this] helped me to have some joy and love right then, in that moment ...
If I had to characterize pot users in one sentence I would describe them as observers of their own life. This passivity cripples ambition and motivation. However, a strong relationship keeps the bridge open between you and your loved one, and this will be vital when they signal a desire to change.
It’s been said that for every one person struggling with addiction, there are at least 15 people affected. The effects are painful and relentless for those of us left in the wake.
Treatment doesn’t see its role as helping the newly sober person to manage financially. They rarely ask the question, "So where is the job?” ... “How is this person going to pay for the sober house?” ... “How is this person going to get to their appointments?” They certainly don’t see their role as providing inpatient treatment until such time as the person is financially stable.
Guest author Annie Highwater writes, "Through the worst of holiday seasons, I have found myself literally forcing a smile as people joyfully wish me season’s greetings in passing. All while my heart weighs a thousand pounds and my mind is a million miles away."
What a relief when a loved one agrees to go into treatment. But right behind this relief there may follow several nagging thoughts: What’s next? What if it doesn’t work? Please don’t let him come home……
I have never seen a time like this. Things are moving so fast: the media and policy makers are opening their eyes to substance abuse, driven largely by white middle-class families who have tragically lost a loved one to opioid overdose. As a family member, how do you navigate all of this?
Do some of these symptoms describe you? A parent wrote me recently that it felt like he had PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) from having lived through his son’s active addiction and relapses. Let’s look at some of the signs ...
An Allies in Recovery member writes from the heart, sharing his experience of being the parent of an adult child in early recovery: "We were in the beginning stages of recovery ourselves. How could we help him if he expressed or evidenced the difficulty of staying focused and doing all the work of recovery?..."