I have this saved in about a half dozen places on different computers so I will never lose it. It was written by Jon, the wonderful man who started SR:
My name's Jon. I'm an addict. And this is what addicts do. You cannot nor will not change my behavior.
You cannot make me treat you better, let alone with any respect. All I care about, all I think about, is my needs and how to go about fulfilling them.
You are a tool to me, something to use. When I say I love you I am lying through my teeth, because love is impossible for someone in active addiction.
I wouldn't be using if I loved myself, and since I don't, I cannot love you.
My feelings are so pushed down and numbed by my drugs that I could be considered a sociopath. I have no empathy for you or anyone else.
It doesn't faze me that I hurt you, leave you hungry, lie to you, cheat on you and steal from you.
My behavior cannot and will not change until I make a decision to stop using/drinking and then follow it up with a plan of action.
And until I make that decision, I will hurt you again and again and again.
Stop being surprised.
I am an addict. And that's what addicts do.
For awhile I had it printed out and in my wallet so I could have it with me as a constant reminder. It was that explanation that allowed me to detach with love from my A who was doing his best to ruin his own life. It was Jon and others here who told me I could love him right into his grave if I didn't get out of the way and allow him to experience the JOY of his own consequences. The people here held my hand every step of the way as I set and maintained boundaries... and they reminded me that I could and should teach people how to treat me.
Grace.
Dignity.
Respect.
I outlined the things I would and would not talk about. I told him I didn't want to hear about his conquests, how drunk or high he got, or what dumb things somebody did at a party. Those are not what your mom wishes to discuss with you. And I'm going to end the conversation immediately if we go there. I learned to say "well, I love you and I've got to go now." And I would hang up the phone.
There was a period of time where we didn't talk much. He was struggling in his life, and he really didn't have anything else to talk to me about! sometimes our conversations were very short - hi, blah blah, well, I have to go and I love you. And I remember a few times that I worried I might never get another chance to speak with him again. And GOD I was scared. But the people here loved me through it and reminded me that if it was our last conversation, it had been a good and loving one.
This mom stuff? It ain't for weenies. Thank god there's a place like SR and a program of recovery available to us so that we have the tools we need to make it through whatever happens.