“Gotta talk to you now before we go to sleep But will we sleep once I tell you what’s hurting me?”

Well, well, well things really do come full circle. When OD ceased to exist, I never thought I would sit here typing out another entry. I am a little bummed that I changed emails so I can’t go back and check out the old diary, might try to get into that email again just for fun. I’m feeling pretty nostalgic anyway.

It’s been quite a while since my last entry and I am entirely embarrassed and sad to think that while I’ve gotten older, had children, gotten a great paying job, ect the fundamentals haven’t changed that much. It’s been weighing so heavy on my mind that most of the meaningful relationships I have with people, all run a little parallel.

I guess it started when I was a kid. My parents both struggled with additions. Very different sorts of additions but addictions none the less. My mother left when I was about 4 years old. Leaving me and my “sibling” Amber to fend for ourselves with admittedly the more traditional of addicts, my father. He was a heavy drinker and often forgot or denied the actions he would take while drunk. He could be violent sometimes and jovial/stupid the next. It was hard to tell from day to day what his mood might be. As the years progressed he began using drugs as well, I suspect they helped with the daily hangovers. He did have a few half hearted sober years when he married my step mom, who naturally I loathed.

Around 13 when living with the step monster became unbearable, I moved in with my mom. Her addictions are much more subtle and admittedly less terrifying if you don’t take too much time to think about it. There is no clear way I can think to say it except that she is addicted to herself. She’s hedonistic and rarely thinks about anyone else. When I moved in with her my original diary was created. It wasn’t long before I became that story book out of control teen. I had no guidance, rules or supervision. As long as I wasn’t bothering her she wasn’t concerned with where I was or what I was doing. It’s a lot of freedom for a teenage girl. I ended up pregnant with a 26 year old man when I was 16… And of course she didn’t care. I moved out shortly after my now 16 year old daughter was born and began my life as an adult. I thought I knew it all and had it under control. I couldn’t have imagined the paths life would take me down.

The one common thread that started at the beginning and continues on… I always end up loving addicts who will never choose me. Begging for someone to love me enough to put me first. If the person I love doesn’t hurt me the most, is it even love?

My dad chose drugs over and over again. When I was young I wanted to believe that he loved me more, but honestly he didn’t. He chose the drugs until August 5th 2010, when he took his own life to escape the hell he created for himself.

My mom… I can remember begging her to love me. Look mommy, I made you this, do you love me now? Hey mom I want to have a real relationship with you, I am coming to live with you, do you love me now? The scenario changes again and again as the years pass. The answer is always no.  Truthfully, I’ve accepted that not only is she incapable of living up to the high opinion I once had of her, but she just isn’t capable of loving anyone or thing more than herself. I worry what life will be like for her when her life nears its close and she doesn’t have anyone there to help her. I am her only child and it can’t be me.

Will, the first man I truly loved. How bittersweet to think of the day we met and how completely enamored I was with the melancholy musical genius. Unfortunately the music and groupies would always take precedent over me. He couldn’t possibly give up the ego boosts that were being spoon fed to him or love the little broken girl that CLUNG to him. Sure there were others before him that I loved…. But nothing compares to the sacrifices I made for him. Then it was over, he chose the neighbor… Someone I really thought was a friend until it all unraveled.

I admit that broke me. Through EVERYTHING else… I held onto hope and fairy tales and true love. I believed in the ideals of monogamy and happy ever afters, I clung to these ideals like a little life raft in a vast ocean. With the end of the Will era came my complete lack of faith in the human race.

The next man I would love, would be the most emotionally unavailable person I could have possibly encountered. He was an alcoholic partier. I only saw him when we were getting fucked up together or after a long night out when he would drunkenly bang on my door or window at 3 AM. I knew he was seeing other girls and for most of the relationship I freely dated as well. I felt comfortable and safe. The end would ultimately come and while it hurt, it didn’t break me. I viewed it as inevitable and wasn’t surprised when he married the next girl he seriously dated. Of course he would chose the girl that wasn’t willing to put up with the bullshit and demanded that he commit to her. No surprises… Even though somehow I still doubt that she loves him half as much as I do. Even though I wasn’t allowing myself to be to entirely vulnerable I loved him entirely the only way I could.

That brings me to the next one… The new addict that is bringing me down. I knew he was an addict from day one. I often wonder if his transparency regarding his drug problem was what attracted me the most. A new project… Someone I could fix. Surely if I made him better he couldn’t help but to love me. It worked for a while…. But I learned something new…. It is very heavy holding someone else’s burdens on you own shoulders and it’s a lot of pressure to be the reason someone quit drugs. You are the only thing that is keeping them clean and your humanistic traits will eventually drive them right back to the drugs. I didn’t get him clean…. I replaced the drugs with myself. It was pretty intoxicating being someones drug at times… But eventually he found new types of drugs to take that he could justify. “Oh this is all natural so it’s fine.” Truthfully it does not matter what a person is addicted to… Natural or otherwise. It is the behaviors…. The total lack of care for another person who questions your habits. It’s toxic… Sometimes I think I can’t do this even a second longer… And I leave. Truthfully, I am usually okay when I am single. I enjoy solitude and languish in the simplicity of it. Even though I feel great…. The lingering thoughts return and with them I return to him as well. In these moments I believe it could be different but it never is. I don’t know what else I can do. I think the only option I have left is for him to seek help… Or go away and not come back. I know he won’t chose me.

Perhaps it’s time that I myself seek help for my own addiction. Thankfully, it isn’t drugs…  I just couldn’t do that. I am none the less an addict judging addicts. I am addicted to addicts and fixing them. It isn’t entirely selfless either. When I am tirelessly focusing on fixing everyone else, I have no time to turn that same energy towards my own problems… That’s too hard, it’s easier to fix someone else. Is there help for someone addicted to addicts? Guess it’s time to find out.

XoXo