The Last of the Tough Love

Day 543.

I am reminded by Facebook that 3 years ago I was living at Shutters Hotel whilst Lorene and Joy were filming in my house.

You’d think that would be a lovely memory. A five star oceanside hotel with an expense account.

But oh no! It was hell.

Not because I was displaced by filming, but because I was displaced by my last attempt at “tough love” with Luke’s drug use.

He was wild and out of control, so I threw him out, again.

I’d done it once before, and it was hell. I did it, maybe for all the wrong reasons. I did it because I hoped it would bring him to his senses and bring him back to sobriety. It always worked for a short while, but it didn’t last. During the time he was away, I would live in constant terror.

It was agony. As is this, but now, at least, I don’t have to fear that he may die or he may cause harm to others in a car crash or... because the worst has already happened. He is dead.

The absence of that terror is hard to celebrate. There’s no joy in having been right. How can I learn to give some sort of gratitude for being off that rollercoaster. For indeed, amidst all this grief, that is something.

When he was rolling, it was terrifying. When he was sober, the fear of relapse was too. I can have some peace now, surely... but Oh no!