A middle aged man emails to ask for help. He says he's at the end. He wants to jump in front of a train. He's tried to overdose multiple times, only to awaken once again.
He talks about long dead addict parents. He's been to treatment programs more than once. Nothing has worked. He has no friends. He presents a dark narrative.
But what to tell him? He's tried treatment and failed at that. He's even failed at his suicide attempts. How to help?
Of course my heart goes out to him and I tell him what we can offer if he makes his way here. Because if he gets here he'll find many others with a similar story.
But they had to learn something about life before they made it over the divide into recovery. And what they learned is that life is sometimes a bitch.
They learned that they're not always going to feel wonderful. That there are obstacles. They discover that employers don't want to hire old dope fiends with no work history outside of making license plates in state prison.
They find that living in recovery is sometimes hard work. That sometimes we have to overcome our instincts to run away.
Hopefully, he finds his way here so he can give it a try.
