I should have written this a long time ago when the feelings were raw, but I didn’t, so here I am trying to bring back the painful memories of loving a drug addict. My hero, my rock, my safe place turned into my fears, my anxiety, my Hell. My dad.
My dad was the hardest working, honest, and loyal person I have ever met, and as I write these words I realize that those are the gifts that he gave me. I live my life with integrity and passion because of him, which is why a part of me died with him. My story, along with many others doesn’t have a happy ending. There are pieces to the story that I will never know. Most of the time life with an addict doesn’t make sense. I was constantly trying to put the pieces of our family back together, but I was delusional in thinking that I could fix my dad. There will be a series of writing devoted to my experience with drug addiction including the following topics.
- Truth is Subjective
- Unconditional Love