Helpless Helper

I called Al-Anon.

In tears.

Ugly, snotty, gasping for air type ass tears.

The lady on the other end of the line was patient as I struggled to ask for where the meetings be at.

Knowing good, damned well I could have probably Googled the time and locations myself.

But I just needed somebody to hear me.

I needed someone to hear my pain and understand.

I really wanted her to give me all of the solutions that had worked for other people.

The ingredients to the magic potion.

Or the words to the prayer.

That makes a loved one stop using and abusing drugs.

To read this blog in its entirety, click here.

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