It feels like they are saying you do not matter enough for me to change. I do not love you enough to get help. I do not care about you enough to start caring about myself.
This was a hospital, after all, they couldn’t be bothered by a sick person trying to reduce the harm of his disease.
I see now my brother’s struggle began long before he ever took that first sip of alcohol.
Perfection can’t be defined because it’s abstract feeling.
You want to help him, but instead you end up getting hurt by him. You start picking up his bad habits. You become angry like him. You become suspicious like him. Your temper becomes worse and your stress grows stronger and you feel like you are losing control of your entire life.
When I see or hear people who deride and judge those struggling with the enormous monster of addiction, I often feel the need to remind them that no one says, “I want to be a drug addict when I grow up.”
The tears I’ve cried could fill a swimming pool—and for years, I thought it would be easier to just hold my breath at the bottom.
PTSD and Complex PTSD aren’t just reserved for war veterans. Those who suffer psychological war zones in the form of abuse and assault can be just as susceptible to their symptoms.
The thing about loving an addict is that you think your love should be able to fix it and find yourself in disbelief when it can’t.
Most “addictions” aren’t dangerous on the surface, but they have far more sinister implications when we look deeper.