Not sure if her writing is autobiographical, but Joan Larkin’s poetry on addiction is really powerful. A friend just pointed her work out to me today.
I wanted to share this poem.
I got word recently that someone I cared about had health consequences which crept up due to his addiction. It occurred to me that when you are in recovery, and you are able to move away from addiction, you can feel a sort of betrayal for the friends you have that did not make it out of those throes. I never knew quite how to name it before.
Using is something people often do together. They share it. They bond over it.
You can want so badly for someone to join you in getting better, and you can still feel bad when they do not. I wonder if people who survive disasters or catastrophes experience this. It is a complicated and specific feeling.
I still have hope that this person and others can swim to shore. He is creative and always has been. I hope he can transmute that creativity into a strategy towards living. And fighting.