I'm still reflecting, trying my very best to keep my wits about me and literally take it one moment at a time. Several times over the past 3 days I have set mini-goals for myself. Stuff as simple as "I am not going to loose it for the next 90 minutes". Taking such small steps have actually given me 2 1/2 days of peace and even a bit of joy.
A lot of what has consumed my thoughts and was even the reason I started this blog was because I was really stuck in my suffering. Why me? How can they do that to me? How can they not want better? What did I do to deserve this? And so on...all of these questions about my own suffering. I have been really stuck in self-victimization. Asking myself these questions over and over again were self-perpetuating. Seeing that family running after the addicts in the street from my building the other day was such a changing moment. It took me a couple of days to process what it meant to me but in the end, I realized that none of this is being done to me, while I may be suffering many consequences as a result of my addicts actions, they aren't doing it to me. There are really so many of us...families and loved ones of addicts. For every one of them, I'm certain there is at least 3 of us...I wasn't singled out because I am not a worthy person.
Last night, after a really lovely day, I saw a segment on 60 minutes. It was about the Lost Boys of the Sudan. There were 4000 innocent young boys and men who had suffered inexplicable indignities and inhumanity. Their parents were murdered, their villages destroyed, starving, dying, and more. They walked 1000 miles to get a second chance at life, more than half died along their journey from malnutrition and exhaustion. The story did a recap of what it was like when they boarded the planes to the united states, and then 12 years later...what were they doing, feeling, etc. The one that hit me the deepest was the one who had faith in God. He said that even though everyone and everything had left him, God never did. He profoundly felt that his experience, his journey and his suffering was so that someone could "bear witness".
I can't even tell you how his statement, how he made sense of all the terribleness, violence and sufferening just by accepting that his higher purpose was to bear witness. I felt like a puzzle piece just clicked in my head and that everything suddenly made sense. I still don't believe in God but I don't need to. I believe that everything that lives on this earth has it's own inherent purpose.Possibly my purpose is to bear witness to two addicts suffering and to observe how it affects me. If it affects me in all sorts of insane and desperate ways, surely there are others like me.
Maybe my higher purpose is to coordinate or offer some comfort to those who are hurting like me? Maybe there is a way to survive this and that something good can come from us? Not by doing the same old crap, like creating obstacles for our addicts, managing our addicts, retaliating against our addicts, etc...but really digging in deep and wrapping our arms around ourselves?
I don't know, maybe I'm still crazy...maybe I'm seeing something that isn't really there but I do see necessity as the mother of invention, and I really feel that comfort and organized support for the families of the addicts is a genuine necessity out there. Something that isn't affiliated with churches and doesn't cost $170/hour? Plus, it helps to have a purpose...something to work towards.
That's all for now...I plan on doing my best to continue to make this a good day.