So high he forgot his coffee…

I get up naturally at about 430am every morning. It’s something I’ve done for ages since my stint in the military. I try to use the quiet time to meditate, blog, and to prepave my day. It’s helpful for me.

But this morning was a little different. As you have heard I live between two active addicts. I have to count my medications twice daily to make sure that I’m not enabling them just by having my medications in the house. I hide them in places, never in the same place twice.

This morning the boy is awake. I call him a boy because he’s never really acted like a man. He is so flipping lit on whatever he is on that I’m sure that he’s on his way to a really bad case of withdrawal once the drugs wear off.

In the meantime, he is attempting to do laundry. My mother’s clothing was still in the dryer, she had a long week so she is sleeping in. He almost went back to deliver them to her. Well, I think I just saved his life because if you wake that beast, she will rip your throat out. And I would let her.

I know it’s hard to quit, but he’s not even trying. I am daily scrutinized for my legal medications, that I take as prescribed, but this foolishness is tolerated for some ungodly reason. It’s a real bummer to have to deal with my own recovery and watch another say he’s in treatment, all the while abusing it.

I have been off my drug of choice for decades now. I fully feel recovered; I don’t need that kind of life. Some people just don’t know how to cope without hiding in a drug induced stupor.

He left the meal my mother cooked for him in the microwave again. Undoubtedly, he forgot that he heated it up so it went into the trash. He was working on the back door and got about half way through; I doubt it will be done today. He made himself a coffee in the Keurig but has now forgotten it’s there. I’m taking bets on how long it takes him to remember he did that.

I really have a hard time living here because I am the black sheep. I am the problem somehow.
Well fuck that.
I am not actively high, and if I need help I know where my local NA is and who my sponsor is. I’ll get help. He goes to a suboxone clinic and he abuses that too. I don’t see how that kind of treatment helps. Substitution therapy is bull.

The way out is to admit you have a problem that you have no control over. You cannot manage your life and you need help, not from man, but from your higher power. Man will fail you, God never fails. I know this, and I live by it. One day at a time.

So now the house is waking up and I am about to hide because I want nothing to do with the outcome of this. I have warned my grandfather gently that there is a big problem, but he won’t do anything to help at all. I’ll get blamed, or it will be me that is the problem if I say anything more. So I am here saying it to you.

I don’t know how much more I can take of this nonsense. It’s been an hour since he made that cup of coffee, and it’s still sitting there. I believe it won’t be drunk at all. I put a full hundred on it. I’ll be rich by noon.

Get help, find a local NA/AA meeting, see a qualified psychologist and just take the first step. It’s the hardest step but you can do it. I did. You will feel pain, but that is what being human means. If you don’t feel pain you’re not really alive. Teach your brain to find ways to get that happy chemical going without your substance. It takes time and hard work but you can do it.

If you are in danger, and you need help I am always here. Search me out, I’ll talk you through it. We can go together into recovery, and you will be whole again soon. But it takes that first step. One baby step.

In continual recovery and unconditional love,
Your Friend David

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