It’s Contagious

Lately, I’ve been sick. Not the runny nose, give me a trash can now before I loose it sick. But the kind of sick that is unexplainable. My head feels like the pressure around it is going to make it cave in on itself. I can hear the rushing of my carotid artery in my ear so loudly that it is deafening. These symptoms lasted for over three weeks before I told anyone, let alone went to the doctor. Ha! Doctor’s are for when you are bleeding out of your eyeballs and last time I checked I wasn’t bleeding out of my eyeballs!

I am the first to tell you I am tough. I even pride myself on it at times. Knee surgery without pain killers. Done. Colds without any medicine. Check. Pounding headache accompanied by a twitching eyeball. Nailed it. I am tough. I will just tough it out. I will suffer through.

On my second week at treatment as I was checking through my list of “not fair’s”, this is not fair, that is not fair– my ever wise counselor said to me, “Mary, get off the cross we need the wood.” I was horrified! What was this sacrilegious person saying to me? As my stomach lurched the reality set in.  I had been offering myself up as a self sacrifice. Most of the time before anyone even asked me to be in the first place.

I was content to suffer even though the cure was just an arm’s reach away. I thought it was noble. I often found myself thinking thoughts like this…

• If so and so would just understand where I am coming from
• If he will just stop using
• If she will just read the Bible more
• If I wait long enough it will just go away
• If I could just understand WHY they are doing this, then I could fix them
• If I carry this addiction or secret for them they will get better.

I “if’t” and “should’ve” all over myself. But the thing is the “if’s” and “should’s” were controlling my life. I was giving my life away to anyone willing take the keys, while I was strapped in the back seat prepared to endure the suffering ride. I was a first class misery-martyr. I was addicted to self sacrifice. Addicted to the way it felt to be tougher. The way I could lament to those around me about how hard my life was. 

Living in the chaos of addiction is hard, I get it. First hand. But, it’s time to move on.

I’ve never had an addict sit in front of me and say, “My mom’s worrying got me sober.” Because that isn’t the way this works. Our program is full of mom’s and dad’s who had enough. Who chose themselves. Who found their own recovery. Who decided enough was enough. And guess what happened, their loved ones eventually began to get well.

Addiction may be a part of your story but it doesn’t have to define your life. You’ve got to give yourself permission to get back to living.

That permission will bring it all into focus. Like the first time you put on a pair of glasses with the right prescription. Clarity will flood through the lenses, choices will become clearer, decisions easier and joy will come seeping back into your life.

Today, I want to encourage you to find the courage to seek clarity. To step out and ask for help. To start working on YOU. Yes, it’s super scary. But, do it anyway. Be brave. Be strong. Go to doctor when you are sick. Call a friend when your down. Ask for help before you suffocate under a weight too heavy to carry on your own. Start working on you before it’s too late. Be who God called you because that  is the best gift you can give not only yourself but your addict as well. Chose to get healthy. It’s contagious.