Boston has been frozen over for the last 30+ days. Under mountains of frozen water the city slumbers, gasps for breath and waits for the warmth of change.
Like the city itself, my family has been frozen; in an icy battle with depression, torment and addiction. It has laid us dormant much like the snow silences and chokes the city.
Addiction is a hard storm to bare. It is relentless and tears down all those it encompasses–the addicted, their loves and supporters. It is a vile, cold and biting wind that snatches our voices and lashes us with shame.
This shame and secrecy builds our icy walls blocking out the warmth of kindness, the rebirth of joy.
Yet, as with everything change is inevitable, snow falls from our roofs as the warm wind returns. It will be weeks before the storms are a memory to our city, but it is much longer for those weathering addiction.
It has taken two and one half brutal years to get here. Not the eye of the storm, no not yet….this is the first warming. It is the day when the wind has calmed and the addict realizes that they cannot do it alone. They have hit “bottom”.
It is on this day that those suffering under this blight–the addicted and those along side the addicted–have waited for. The storm will rage, winter is not over. There is still rehab and the long debilitating first year post rehab to be faced.
Those under the ice know the wicked jet stream of want can steal away this fledgling hope, yet it’s there. Hope.
In this moment, we exhale.