Calling for Help...

It's in their voices. The ones who call to get help for a loved one. They're usually hesitant, sometimes their voices are small, almost like they're not sure they're doing right thing.

Even though some try to mask who they're talking about, within moments I know it’s about a loved one. Maybe a son.  A daughter. Could be a husband or wife.

And I try to help them because I sense their pain, their lack of understanding of addiction or alcoholism. I can usually tell that the realization has finally set upon them that they're not dealing with anything logical - or within their ability to deal with alone. They know there’s a monster in their midst, the addiction and alcoholism that has created chaos in the lives of their loved ones – and themselves.

Many have spent money on expensive recovery programs. Some have tried tough love. Many have tried everything, including supporting drug habits to keep their loved ones from going through withdrawals.

As gently as possible I suggest that the one who should be calling me is the one who needs help. But with most it's too early for them to be confrontational. And the confrontation usually is not with the addict anyway. It's usually with the callers themselves. It's tough to accept the idea that forcing someone to be responsible is a form of love.

And then there's always a tiny fear, deep in their heart, that the addict will no longer love them if they take a stronger position.  Yet that stronger position might save a life.