Sorrow and Sunflowers

“  I can't look at the stars They make me wonder where you are Stars, up on Heaven's boulevard And if I know you at all, I know you've gone too far So I, I can't look at the stars ”   The moment when I realized that everyone who could, and would catch my fall was gone occurred as I was driving down the highway. My sons were sleeping in the back seat. The song that reminded me I most of my father (one of the dearly departed) was playing. The tears burst forward like they were sent from celestial fountains. "But I'm still here." he said. "When you are, I cry even harder, because you aren't really." "I'll always be here. In you. In the boys. In the aura around you all." "That won't help when the world is crashing down around me, and all my pillars have crumbled." "They haven't all crumbled. You are one. You have to be now." It was a similar conversation to the one I had with my uncle, (another of the dea...

  “  Whatever I fear the most is whatever I see before me Whenever I let my guard down, whatever I was ignorin' Whatever I fear the most is whatever I see before me Whatever I have been given, whatever I have been” ~Toad the Wet Sprocket Have you ever been scared to go to the bathroom?  I have.  I am right now as I write this. Sitting on the floor of my boys bedroom while they sleep, my ears carefully attuned to the sounds of the house around and below me. Listening for anything that may indicate that it’s safe to quietly creep out of the bedroom and quickly go to the bathroom.  If you had ever in my life BA (before alcoholic) asked me if I had ever been scared to go to the bathroom I would have laughed, or at least given you a weird look. What a crazy thing to ask. What a ridiculous position to be in. You just get up and go, right?  Not if you share a household with an addict. Not if you are afraid that the fragile quiet of the house could be shattered sho...

 “ Cut my life into pieces This is my last resort. Suffocation No breathing  Don’t give a fuck if I cut my arm Bleeding” ~Papa Roach This song echos through my mind a lot. Especially when I am going through an angry phase.  Like right now. Why do I have to bear the weight of his addiction alone? Why does everyone else get to leave, shaking their heads at what a shame it is and then go off to their safe happy homes, leaving me to my hell?  Why does no one STAY? Last night was a bad night. It’s actually been four to five bad nights in a row. I couldn’t sleep, and I got to thinking.  Why, when an alcoholic finally decides to get clean, do they get to go off to some rehab center, take 30 to 90 days off, meals prepared for them, activities, counseling, and then come home and be hailed as heroes for beating their addiction?  Where is the rehab for the families who survived the alcoholic’s addiction? Where is my intensive counseling? When do I get to leave for 30 ...