Realizing your worth...

Even though this is a photography blog, I figured I might share some thoughts now and then. I might ramble about things that seem insignificant to others, and I'm totally okay with that if you are!

Over the weekend I was taught a lesson. You can not make others realize their worth. You can tell them until you are blue in the face just how important of a human being they are and what potential they have, but there are just some people that are too far in the hole to pull out. You can throw them a rope, you can build them a damn escalator, for f's sake... but they make the choice to either grab on or hitch that ride back out. It's not up to you to make that decision for them, sadly.

I am taking substance abuse classes specifically b/c of the history I have with knowing persons affected by drugs and alcohol. I have went from someone who used to blame addicts so sternly b/c I was so pissed off when one would die that they'd be so damn selfish and hurtful to others around them, to a person who has probably too soft of a heart for people suffering from addiction. The more I learn in my classes, the more I feel, which is becoming a problem b/c I'm finding myself getting emotional reading case studies. I'm getting emotional about STRANGERS I've never met.

This weekend, I got a call from a friend who said they wanted to go to rehab. They also needed a place to stay overnight. I agreed, listened to the story of  how they reached sobriety for a week along with promises and positive ideas about what they want for their life... and felt they were being sincere. They probably were... at that moment. No one WANTS to suffer from drug addiction. YES, they made a choice to start at some point. I know that's the argument that so many make. However, knowing the history of the people I personally know that are addicted, who watched their parents use, who watched their parents die with a needle in their arm, some who were horribly abused verbally, mentally and physically... you can't tell me that some addicts aren't the product of their home and childhood experiences.

Fast forward to the light of the next day, and the attitude starts to change. Maybe it's the sickness taking over, the need for the drug is creeping on strongly, I don't know. What I do know is priorities change and become things like getting some paperwork finished, grabbing an item out of pawn, filing for a tax refund... everything mentioned except rehab. This is where I feel my heart starting to sink. I know the cycle. I know disappointment is coming. First it's "can I use your phone?"  Ten phone calls later and it's, "can we run to the gas station?" The unraveling begins and before you know it, the addict is out of the car walking in hopes of getting a pick up from a "friend" and I use that term loosely because friends, real friends, would not use with you or support your habit. After the pick up, it's off to score some dope and the whole thing starts all over... a day and night high with other users, a day of wandering around and then a night out in the freezing cold, a day at a friends house hanging out while their parents aren't home (yes, these are grown ass people, 20's, 30's, but drug addicts almost always lose everything thus ending up living at home w/ a relative/friend or homeless altogether) and then maybe a few days going from couch to couch of friends who end up asking you to leave b/c they don't want an addict there while they go to work considering addicts will steal from their own family and friends. It's a fact, don't get mad that I say it, it's true. An addict may love you, yes, but they love the drug much more, it's as simple as that. The state of mind changes, it's nothing personal.

So, we wait. Wait for the call from a hospital or a friend. We wait for a call from the police. We wait for the possibility of having to identify a body.

But we hope... for a call from rehab instead.
And we hope.... this time the addict will stay there and finish the program.
And we hope... that the person we once knew will return to life with the living.