The phrase “I can’t, nay I won’t, do this again” has been said so many times in my life, especially over the past 13 years, that it became an intimate friend as well as an enemy. That expression was more than just a statement as it revealed the strongest emotions that ranged from the deepest sadness, to desperation, to the lifting of hope and to the most powerful one conveyed as rage. With each time that I, myself, reached that destination, it was as if I were standing on the edge of a cliff feeling cornered and yet terrified to jump. The unknown can be unbelievably paralyzing even when the familiarity of the known is so filled with hell that it is impossible to breathe. I repeated that pattern continuously as I moved from denial, to hope, back to the resignation that Ryan would never, ever get out of the hell of addiction and then to the discovery of hope once again. The amount of trauma that I suffered during those years was enough to break me more times than I want to recall. I was driven by the insanity of the addiction that consumed my son which resulted in my repeating the same behavior while expecting a different outcome. When I look back on that time and remember my feelings throughout those events, I can see how Ryan and I were very much the same. From what I have seen as well as felt, it is never easy for most people to change a behavior or to maintain that change whether an addict or not. Hope keeps us coming back while looking forward to tomorrow for that heaven that was not found in the hell of yesterday nor today. Hope and truth walk hand in hand on the trail of addiction knowing that once it has been stepped on, the passage will forever whisper the memories of hell to those who once sought solace from it.

When our dreams, our loved ones, relapse, it can be as debilitating for us as it is for them by bringing the possibility of painful and dangerous events to the front once again. Just as in the beginning, new and old feelings can overwhelm us during the reality that this is not as simple as we want and need. We can feel as if the progress that had seemed to be achieved was merely another falsehood from our addicts. A fall or falls can result in non-addicts feeling resentment while believing that they want the sobriety of an addict more than the addict does; that he or she may not really be trying. I can tell you that my fury has equaled the wrath of hell from the start of Ryan’s addiction and well into a multitude of relapses. I have hated the lies, the falls and the impact that addiction has had on our lives with as much passion as I have felt about trying to understand the evolution of it. I could not grasp why it had started and why it would not just go away. If only Ryan had done what I said when I said each and every time, we would not have been facing hell again and again. There were even moments when I had hoped that tomorrow would not arrive just so that I could deny the existence of hell in my life. My sense of all that I had  known, believed and felt was overturned the night that I had received the phone call telling me that my son had been arrested for drug possession. That invalidation of yesterday kept coming with the tomorrows; leaving me resentful of hell and the mirror that just wouldn’t leave me alone. The rise of that hope and the plunge of that despair was at times so violent that it left me in a heightened state of agitation that made it all but impossible for me to see the beauty in anything. I had forgotten how to breathe and being brave was not even a possibility.

The behaviors of addicts, as well as others, are not personal despite the very direct way that their choices affect us; they are a reflection of themselves and not of what we deserve. There have been times when I have felt like I could scream forever as my obsession over stopping Ryan’s addiction became as profound as his need to continue it. I have lived, breathed and consumed it to the point that I was merely existing to the detriment of Ashlee and Taylor. I have denied the effects of my behaviors and I have given reasons for them as well. I also chose to lie about them as I was sure that tomorrow would bring the discovery of the change that was needed; making any lie inconsequential. My behavior was not personal even though it absolutely impacted each of them on that very same deep level that I had felt. The end justified the means for me because I was desperate; not unlike an addict. Both Ryan and I were each completely focused on the object of our desires regardless of who could be or was hurt in the process. Through this, I have found that lies spoken and heard can be cathartic in moments by allowing the temporary avoidance, the denial, of the real truth and the price of it. Hope can also be found entwined in those fabrications as a reason to continue to believe and or cope for the deceiver as well as the recipient. As similar as all the behaviors of addicts and non-addicts are, they are still specific to each individual through the emotional definitions that each feels from the life that has been created on the circle of heavell. We cannot assume that the effects nor the steps taken and or lost will occur in the same manner for everyone; it is just not that simple. Brave is not necessary when we are in heaven nor in the illusions of perfection. Fear’s hand and courage’s hand are found in the beauty of hell exactly where they are needed. It is also the place where brave will eventually breathe in you when you are able to face the mirror. You are the perfect person to love, hate, accept and or change each part of you; never deny any of those parts because they are what make you the only you. Hope can be found in every moment on the circle of heavell where it walks hand and hand with that real truth because one cannot exist without the other; keep them both close to you and the chains will eventually break.