Back in 1998-1999 my younger brother was a reluctant client at TLC for around eight months. I'd invited him to the program because he really had no place else to go - he was homeless.
However, because he couldn't relate to the other clients - or the outside 12-step meetings - he ended up leaving. He financed his departure with the proceeds of a Pell grant the government had given him to return to school. And when he left he was as angry as when he'd entered. On his way out, he told the manager "F... TLC" and said that he could "kiss his ass."
He went to work at a casino in Primm, Nevada, as a maintenance man and resumed drinking and drugging. Within a few years, right after his 60th birthday, he died from complications of his lifestyle.
And I bring this up here because we visited my niece, his only daughter, on Labor Day weekend while we were in Reno/Lake Tahoe. We had a wonderful visit with her, her husband, and my brother's two grandchildren.
Driving back to our hotel I reflected on how much life my brother had missed because his disease took him so young. He died young and he also died angry at me and the world around him. He wasn't pissed off at anything in particular, just the world in general - like many of us when we're using.
Not only did he die too soon, but he never got to meet his two grandsons, ages around 4 and 7. They are really smart, well-behaved kids who do well in school and don't seem to be on the same path as their grandfather or me. It's a pleasure to be related to such happy, well-adjusted children.
Once we wander down the path of addiction, whatever we use, we risk missing a big slice of what life is all about. Our family, our friends, and the enjoyment that life brings us when we engage in posititive and constructive things are experiences we can never get back once we trade them for our addictions.
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