Every now and then a movie catches your soul off guard.
Beautiful Boy was one of those for me.
I know I’m late watching it, but maybe some things don’t come to you until you’re ready to receive them.
The story follows a father whose whole heart is wrapped up in his son, a son who is fighting addiction. And the way this story is told absolutely rips you apart. Not in a dramatic Hollywood way, but in that quiet, painful, “I know this ache” kind of way.
I can’t speak for anyone else. I can only speak from what I know.
Addiction is a soul-sucking demon.
It doesn’t just steal from the person going through it. It drains the people who love them too. It steals peace. It steals sleep. It steals joy. It turns love into fear and hope into something you’re almost scared to hold too tightly.
There are days when the people who love an addict feel like they could just lay down and die from the weight of it. You want so much for them. You see who they are. You see who they could be. You see their purpose, their light, their life still waiting for them.
But the brutal truth is, you cannot want it more than they do.
They have to want it enough to fight for their own life.
And that is a hard, heartbreaking thing to accept.
So many of us could tell this story. So many families have walked these footsteps. So many people know what it feels like to love someone and still feel completely powerless.
Sometimes love doesn’t feel like enough.
Tough love can break your heart in places you didn’t even know could break. And even when you set boundaries, even when you refuse to accept the behavior, even when you know accountability is necessary, that demon of worry still lingers in the shadows.
Always watching.
Always whispering.
Always waiting for the phone to ring.
I am beyond grateful that one of my beloved ones is clean, healthy, and thriving. That is a blessing I do not take lightly.
But I also have others I love who are still fighting those demons from hell. And I know many people reading this understand that sentence in their bones.
I don’t know if this is a positive post.
But it is a real one.
Maybe that is enough.
Maybe it gives someone a small glimpse into the darkness so many families are trying to bring light into.
Beautiful Boy opened up reflections in me that I’m not running from. I’m sitting with them. I’m acknowledging them. I’m embracing the epiphanies, even the painful ones.
