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Trust - Friend & Foe Trust. A drawbridge across which hordes of hostile troops can storm to rape pillage and plunder your soul. Loneliness can also drain you dry. You cannot escape it without crossing the drawbridge: Trust.
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Introduction Addiction is a fatal disease which many see as self-inflicted, feeling addicts ‘have made their bed and should lie in it’. This stigma can deter addicts from ‘coming out’, which sadly is the very thing they need to do to overcome their addiction. I battled with, and overcame, addiction. My story brings hope, and strength, to all those affected. It will hopefully move others to compassion. I was helped by these organisations: Alcoholics Anonymous; Narcotics Anonymous ; Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous. You’re welcome to contact me at: p_r_bushby_addict@outlook.com
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‘Til Death Do Us Part’ Old demons do not stray as you escape their shadows. They just smile and relocate, knowing a sudden turn of fate will bring them back their prey.
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Extract from Addiction’s Case Files: ‘Peter Bushby – Addict’ When my scouts reported Peter’s marriage was in trouble I made him dwell on faded, tainted, discarded memories. I taunted him with the void in his life, until he questioned living on. Obsessed with filling the void, he went hunting, neither knowing nor caring who he caught. He briefly sated his need, but could never fill the void. He just grew hungrier and hungrier. I tempted him with attractive but deadly fruit, and taught him to master deceit, like I once taught Zeus to become a swan. No well woman would touch him, but the rest had no such qualms. His sins tormented what was left of his soul and any remaining goodness slowly drained away. I was relentless in my pursuit. He ran from the chaos, into the bottle, right into my hands. Visibly diseased by now, he still found victims, using them until they collapsed. He grew weaker until he too collapsed into darkness and almost all expunged him from their lives. I led him close to the edge, where fears of falling and jumping tore him in two. Broken and burning, he reached rock bottom. I should have killed him off when I could. After he entered rehab I rarely caught him alone. Clouds no longer deterred him, he just waited for them to pass. I laid false, and dangerous trails, which he avoided. He summoned help every time I got near, and I was powerless against the cohort he formed. He has reached a good place, but in time ‘euphoric recall’ might outweigh ‘harsh reality’. I’ll be waiting. If he does ever let his guard down, he won’t escape again.
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EXTRACTS FROM MY DIARY 1970 - 2022 “She hasn’t strayed with her body….. I’d rather have kept her soul”. “Spiralling out of control, plummeting in a flat spin. Drinking all day, every day. Stopped eating. Having blackouts. Deep trouble!” “Bruised head to foot, surrounded by broken glass, gave up.”. “Rehab is tough! Held incommunicado but health-checked, detoxed, fed, watered, and watched. Crying all the time from the detox.” “Released – still so much fear, doubt, and uncertainty. Addiction keeps trying. Never alone if you pick up the phone.” “Helped my wife through serious health issues, accepted by her family.” “Had a cup named after me for shifting Bridge online during lockdown.” “Restarted photography and now studying for a Master’s degree” “Still married, against the odds” 37
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