My sponsor asked me to write a farewell letter to my addiction. This is what I wrote.
Farewell, Dear addiction, you were there for me when I needed you most. When my mother died you were my comfort. When I was scared you made me feel safe. When I was alone you were always there for me. You comforted me through pain and sorrow and you were always around to help me celebrate my victories. I never gave you credit for all the times you stayed with me when I was at the bottom of the heap. You gave me a voice and although it was not a voice heard by anyone but me it was with me constantly, chattering away non-stop like white noise. All these times you were there for me. You gave me the ability to be invisible, a gift that served me well and probably saved my life. However, and there is a huge however, all these things you gave me came with a price. I was never allowed to grieve because I hid with you behind closed doors. I never developed courage because you told me that the substance I craved would take away all fear and protect me. I isolated and had no meaningful relationships because the wall between me and others (which you helped me build) was ten feet thick and made with stones of fear held together by mortar made of resentments, lies, shame and guilt. You told me I was unworthy or others weren’t good enough and most of the time I was unable to see a person’s true self because I was kept enveloped in a fog. The fog you created for me to keep me safe, in the shadows, unseen. My pain and sorrow grew because I never worked through it. And every time I felt some hope you were there to whisper in my ear, “You don’t have to go there, stay here with me I will keep you safe. I am comfortable and I am your life.” I listened to you thinking you were my closest friend. And then one day I heard a voice. A hand reached out to me. Gradually I stepped into the light. I saw a glimpse of you smirking as I fell back into your waiting arms time and time again. I heard you laughing as I told others about you. You thought I would never break free and sometimes I thought you were right. But there is something much stronger than you and that is God. I saw the light and I heard someone’s sweet voice say, “You can have this – you can be free.” All those years when I thought you were my friend you were scheming behind my back, slowly you robbed me of my dignity, joy, and faith and you did it with a smile and a lie. I always believed you until I saw the light and I saw the difference between the lie and the truth. So here we are. It has taken a long time. You and me are looking for different things. You want me bound, desperate and alone and I want release. I want to be free. I want to grieve, feel fear, grow courage, experience pain, hunger, happiness, love, disappointment, joy. I thank you and I release you. Go to wherever addictions go when they are no longer needed or wanted, when they have finally been exposed to the light. It’s okay to leave I’m stronger now. I can see through the fog, I have seen the truth, I’ve experienced the light of God. We weren’t made for each other anyway. I was meant to live and walk with a source greater than you, I was meant to be, to feel, I was meant to live unchained. Go attach yourself to another. You and I know longer exist together. I release you with love but I do release you completely. But know this, I will be watching. If I see you deceiving others I will share the light with them. I will expose you and your lies. So, you lier, cheat and thief, farewell, skedaddle, adios, arrivederci, ciao, auf Wiedersehen, so long, good bye, adieu, hit the road Jack and don’t come back!
it sounds like this addiction has bit the dust.
sounds like this addiction has bit the dust
This is a wonderful letter I love it
wow this is a good letter im thinking about telling my sponser about this to see what she says it might be a good idea for us to write a farewell note to our addictions