My heart bled for you as I watched you struggle; the constant self loathing and uncontrollable, abusive behaviour powerfully dragging you into a state of no man's land. At this point you said you ceased to feel and preferred it that way. How afraid I was of finding your lifeless body during one of my many visits.
Destructive self sabotage was your ally when I sought employment opportunities, tempting you with a purpose to drag you out of your dark hell. You declined the offers with endless, justified excuses. I knew your fear of failure debilitated your will to try again. Another fated disappointment would surely tip you over the edge.
I threw you many life lines in my denial of how sick you really were.
I desperately wanted you to find your way home and to realise how cherished you were and how amazing your life could be. I wished you could see yourself through my eyes – your talents, your tenderness, your selflessness. The strength and resilience I knew you possessed were now dormant deep within and hidden behind your wall of hopelessness. I prayed for you to embrace your wholeness, not just your demons.
I led you to therapy, hoping it would safely permit you to spew forth your immeasurable, overwhelming angst and pain. You were battling in such solitude and it frightened me terribly. You claimed you didn't feel comfortable and were unable to connect with the practitioner. He failed to understand.
It didn't help you were quietly intoxicated.
I placed your name on various detoxification centres' waiting lists and finally an opening arrived. I remember how elated I was and couldn't wait to share the good news. After you detoxed from your poison you would progress to a residential rehabilitation centre I'd organised. You would be professionally guided and supported to rise from the embers ready to grab life by the horns once more.
Yes, I had it all planned out.
We decided on a time I would pick you up to take you to your first step towards healing. Gosh that felt good and brought with it such relief. However, you were nowhere to be found the day I excitedly arrived. I realised then, not 'We' had decided on a time, but 'I'. I remember my heart broke into a million pieces and I sobbed a waterfall of restrained, powerless, despairing tears as I numbly sat in my car outside your home.
I wised up that particular day.
I understood, although I desperately yearned to, I couldn't rescue you from your despondency. I couldn't save you, no matter how fuelled and altruistic my intentions. I couldn't haul you along by the hand believing I knew how best to find you your answers. It wasn't up to me. However determined I felt to make things right, it was your journey, not mine. I realised I had to step back, as difficult and heartbreaking as it was, and continue to walk beside you, following your lead at whatever pace that happened to be.
Yet I could be your sounding board; a trusting, emotional, support to lean on. I would make sure your body ingested much-needed nourishment when you forgot to eat. I would catch you when your pain was too great to bear and silently cradle you in my arms. I would be there when you hopefully, wholeheartedly decided it was time for change. I would assist you to put structures in place to move you forward out of your dark, deadly oblivion.
I loved you endlessly and while it immensely pained me, I just couldn't run your race ...
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