It’s funny how quiet your life can get when the chaos is removed.  Honestly, I find myself holding my breath more.
Waiting for something to come along and knock me off my feet. Why can’t I accept the silence as a long-needed break rather than a test in resilience?  I’m almost lonely for the turmoil that always comes with my son’s addiction. At least then I would have something of him. I realize how addicted I have become to him whenever we are separated. To accept the crazy so that I can feel connected to him is scary. How much would I then consent too? History has repeated itself so many times; this is a fact of the enabling relationship we develop with our addicts. This has been a staple with mine. He uses I enable. We each have our defining roles.
Only when he is gone can I begin to see how dysfunctional we are. How can that be? I love my son. I know he loves me. How can that be wrong?
THAT’S HOW ENABLING FOOLS US…it teases our hearts. Tells us its ok cause we love them. That only we can save them. Confuses our logic any right or wrong, consequence or reward blend together like paints on a canvas. We can no longer tell what’s up or down. What’s his or mine. In fact, our addictions look much in the same.
It’s no wonder when one is removed from the equation we stumble to make sense of our life.
Today I struggle with the simplest emotions of just missing my son. As he works through his consequence, I feel like I too am serving a sentence. Doing my best to use this time apart as healing and learning what I need to do for myself, I can’t help but concentrate on him and his life after this. Where will the pieces remain in the puzzle which has become us?

To hang on we must let go