Judging Addiction

"People inspire you or they drain you, choose them wisely." -Hans F Hanson

I came across this picture as I was browsing Houzz (if you aren't familiar with this home decorator app/website you are truly missing out) and I couldn't help but literally laugh out loud.
It is the proverbial glass house.
It is where they live...you know who I mean...the 'friends' and relatives and everyone else that judge us.
As the parent of an addict I have had to learn to accept the judgement of others who think it was my parenting that caused my son to use drugs. If it was their child then they would have dealt with it differently you see...they would have 'fixed' the situation.
I have walked through the whispers and lived through the shame.
Hell in the beginning I blamed myself too, often taking the time to defend myself and my son.
Yep, there I was at high school sporting events trying to explain why my son was an addict.
Now can you stop and imagine someone trying to explain why their child has cancer? Or juvenile diabetes?

I have a friend, at one time my very best friend, who stands on the other side of the addiction debate.
Is addiction a disease or a choice?
She thinks it's a choice.
Her absence at my sons memorial service solidified her stance.
This is a woman who knows me...she knew my son when he was a toddler...she was my BEST FRIEND.
Until judgement day came.
Then she climbed the nearest pedestal, wrapped herself and her children in perfection, and JUDGED ME.
Her children lead a 'normal' life she told me. (I just wonder if they know they live in a glass house...)

Everyone is entitled to their opinion about addiction. Many addicts will even tell you that addiction is a choice...and maybe for them it is.
I am not here to discuss neuroscience, brain cognition or the genetics of an addict. What I can say for certain is this...living with an addiction is a very loathsome way to live, and dying from addiction is a very tragic way to die. If given the 'choice' why would anyone choose addiction? If death by disease was inevitable and you had to choose your method of dying why not choose a disease that creates sorrow and pity in the eyes of others?
In essence, why not make yourself judgement proof?
That's what I would do.

I never asked my friend her definition of normal, although I wanted to. In fact, that last text message from her still sits on my phone, like a flashing red light, to remind me how far I have come and how stuck she remains. Because you see, when you jump on a pedestal you might have a great view of everyone around you, but you leave very little room for yourself to move.
That is how I see her now.
On a 12x12 pedestal, in her glass house, stuck in her own perfection.
Imagine the pressure?
To live that 'normally'...

To put it simply, "Life is too short to spend with people that suck the life out of you."

Eventually glass houses shatter, and from what I understand, it's usually from the inside out...