We Never Know

I’d like to take you back with me to May 7, 2017, and I’m going to make this short and to the point.

My son Jake was not living with us. We were no longer sending money, paying for things, allowing him to live at home, etc…

I woke up that day just like every other day; however, I had no idea how drastically life was about to change for our entire family.

My son had been living with his cousin and his family near Chicago. Jake knew the rules and conditions for being able to stay there, and he had broken them. His cousin stuck to his word and told Jake he could no longer live there, and he had two weeks to figure out something. Jake has not used since then.

Tonight we will go out to dinner to celebrate his nine years in recovery.

He has worked so hard, and I am extremely proud of him.

But that’s not my point.

You never know what day your loved one will wake up and decide to learn how to live differently. (Please read that sentence at least twice.)I had no idea May 7, 2017 was the day Jake was going to wake up and decide that for himself. No clue. Not one.

He did if for himself. He chose to seek out long-term recovery programs on his own.

Because we never know what day it will be, I encourage you to cling tightly to hope each and every day. Keep educating yourself about the disease. Keep making positive changes in yourself. Keep improving your communication style. Keep on trying to be the best version of yourself. Keep modeling healthy behaviors and choices no matter what relationship you have with your loved one.

Remember your loved one is still in there. He or she may not act like they are paying attention or listening to the positive changes you’re making in the way you talk with him/her, but they are.

The ugly things they say are the disease talking. I’m not saying those words don’t pierce our hearts, but I am saying it is the disease being manipulative and their brains convincing them they need to use more than they need to eat or sometimes even breathe. In your mind, separate your loved one from the disease. Love the person but do your best not to feed their disease. That looks differently for each of us and is a topic for another day.I’m going to say this again – you never know what day your loved one will decide to learn how to live differently. Don’t give up. Keep (or make) healthy boundaries, but don’t give up.

And remember…there’s always hope!

(I have finished writing a book where you’ll be able to read about our family’s journey. It should be published yet this year.)