Helpless Helper

I called Al-Anon.

In tears.

Ugly, snotty, gasping for air type ass tears.

The lady on the other end of the line was patient as I struggled to ask for where the meetings be at.

Knowing good, damned well I could have probably Googled the time and locations myself.

But I just needed somebody to hear me.

I needed someone to hear my pain and understand.

I really wanted her to give me all of the solutions that had worked for other people.

The ingredients to the magic potion.

Or the words to the prayer.

That makes a loved one stop using and abusing drugs.

I mean, I ain’t ask her for all of this.

But she HAD to hear by the shakiness and desperation in my voice that I needed a way out.

Hell, I’ve been needing a way out since the 80s.

A lot of us have.

But the time just keeps moving on.

And the trauma keeps building up.

And then people fucking die.

Or have DMX experiences.

Either way, it’s not their issue.

And according to other people, it’s not my issue either.

But it hurts me like it is.

I cry.

I yearn for the right words to say.

The sympathy to help.

But I ain’t got it.

And I watch relationships just drift away.

This is all what I was thinking during the hold the Al-Anon lady put me on after she asked me for my zipcode.

By the time she came back to the line, I had already suppressed the tears like I do all the time.

And made up my mind that I was just going to keep doing what I been doing.

Act like none of this shit exists.

And love anyways.

But I went ahead and gave her my email address.

Just to keep with the procedure of the call.

Maybe I’ll look at the list one day.

Maybe that’s where all the answers are.

But until then, I will just look on from the sidelines and pray to God that it gets better.

Addiction is something serious.

To me, it’s like watching someone you love die everyday.

But somehow they can still give hugs and advice.

And you learn to take it how you get it.

Cus they don’t mean to do it.

They are just sick.

Tip: Addiction is most definitely a sickness.

I’m glad they finally get it.

After decades of crack babies and shit.

Better late than never tho right?

But it ain’t no DayQuil, Pepto Bismol type fix.

Shit’s heavier than that.

Waaaaaay heavier.

And if you on the outside, there is literally nothing you can do.

Except love and love some more.

What not to do: Don’t lose yourself.

I’ve done that already too.

But I had to reclaim my peace of mind.

If I could personify addiction and give it an ass.

I would kick it.

I hate it just that much.

+ Ci Ci +

This blog was originally posted on Healing is Voluntary