It’s all My Fault!

Day 403.

Adam read an article by Marc Lewis.

His angle on the opioid crisis is that it all stems from trauma, childhood or later. 

Here it is again!

I am rewinding every harsh word, every abrupt reaction, every cruel comment. 

All the arguments.

All the echoes of how I hurt him. 

It’s all I can think of.

It was me.

It was me who lead Luke to use drugs.

I killed my son.

I killed Luke.

Everything that came after was a response to that trauma.

So what do I do now?

What do I do with that?

I felt it in Boston as I screamed that I killed my son.

Anyone who will try to talk me out of it - if I take their assurances - will just be denial.

Who in this world would say “Yes you did”. “Yes you are right.”

I can only remember all the shouting.

I cannot remember anything good in me.

I think of all the people I know who have suffered from addiction.

They suffered trauma at their parent’s hands, however unintentional.

My icon on Luke’s phone is Hitler.

The frustrations.

The way he always sought my approval - was it because I withheld it so?

My head is spinning.

My emotions are rolling in my stomach.

How do I deserve to live?

A sensitive boy and a cruel mother.

What was I doing?

If this is true - 

Is the answer once again Ibogaine?

To interrupt the addiction and pass them into a trance to see their traumas and clear them. Because even though they have lived with trauma and turned to drugs, they still deserve to be rid of both the hell of their trauma and the hell of their substance use.

Poor Luke.

God, I have so much regret.

How do I go on?

I’ve made a mess of everything.