I have found a new area of recovery and it's a very painful and uncomfortable area. I have learned to rejoice, celebrate, and love my fellow comrades in recovery. You get closer to them than blood family. But the day comes when you loose one back to the disease of the chosen addiction. It's sad, hurtful, and depressing. I want to rush in and save the day by saying all the right words that will make it right and correct the wrong that has been done to my friend. But then the truthful words are uttered and whispered from my higher power that simply says..."who are you?" I know the meaning instantly that I am trying to rely on my past of being the caregiver who will sacrifice my whole being to make things right. That is one of my character defects...to be the savior and hero of the chapter. But, who am I? I'm just a fellow drunk that if not by the grace of God then it would be me suffering and sinking in the mud and muck of my chosen addiction. I couldn't and still can't save myself much less anyone else. I can offer a hand and when that hand is slapped away by the friend who is being sucked into the vortex of darkness and despair, I have to withdraw my hand and then clasp it to the other hand and pray to my higher power who I choose to call God. I can love my friend from a distance always being mindful to lift the name in prayer but I cannot stand and watch as she is sucked deeper in for if if I stare too long, I too could succumb to the laughing vortex of the addiction that is constantly a danger zone to avoid at all costs.
