We're emblematic of the unknown...

I bought a book today called "Beautiful Boy".

It's a fathers' memoir of his son's struggle with addiction. I read the cover of the book while I was at Starbucks today and it struck a cord with me. I could relate so much to his experiences and his words. I was shocked to discover how similar the journeys of people living with the addicted are. Same story. Different people.
After my coffee was ready, I couldn't bring myself to put the book down. It had touched me. And it had been reviewed by Anne Lamott. I love her.
I drove over to B&N and purchased it.


I have just finished the introduction.
The introduction.
Sixteen pages.
I am shaken to my core.
Each page I read pulled back another painful layer of the ignorant bliss I contentedly survive within. Each scene he described brought me back to my own vivid memory of our version of his story. It's pushed my stomach into my chest and absolutely killed my nerves.

Truth. I would love to just pretend that these parts of my life are not.
That we're passed it. That we can pretend it's no longer an issue. That we're in the home stretch. That we're free. Ignorant bliss.
But addiction is life long. You don't just beat it and continue on with your life. It's a tooth-and-nail fight for survival both for the addict and for those who love them. They can be alright for years and in one breathe be back on their faces. The end is unclear. You can't anticipate what it's going to look like. You live page to page.

This torments me.
I need to know what the end is going to look like. I need that control. I need to know everything is going to be okay. I need the problem to be fixed. I need the cancer to be gone.
I need it.
Anything else makes me physically ill.
My inability to trust the fate of those I love to the invisible makes me physically ill.

I realize this isn't good.
Physical illness is not good.
Lack of trust is not good. It's contrary to everything I know...which is tormenting in it's own right. I can't live like that.
There's healing somewhere that I have yet to receive...or accept...
There's liberation I'm still waiting on.
I understand why they say ignorance is bliss. Honestly.
If it were truly a possibility, I'm pretty sure I'd be in line.
But that is so freaking dangerous. Because ignorance can't and won't last forever. And if you're not anticipating it. Or you haven't let go. If you're just relying on denial and you haven't learned to trust what's greater, when things fall it will destroy you.

You learn. Or you don't survive.
For me, I'm afraid it's destined to be the hard road. I'm too stubborn to have it any other way.
I'm just hoping I learn.
Maybe that is why I'm so drawn to this book. Lord knows I don't have the time to read something else right now. However, I am so tempted to stay up the rest of the night and devour it. I also want to throw it out the window, because it terrifies me.
It digs up things I have buried. Things I don't want to look at right now. Or ever again, to be honest. I don't want to nurse those wounds anymore.




Alright. That's all. I apologize for this...whatever this is.

I've beat this horse as much as I can.