My father would have given anything to not battle addiction. He tried, and tried again. When he told me he was clean, I knew he wanted to be, and we all prayed he would stay that way. But it never did last. Each time was harder. Still, I never gave up on him.
My father lost his battle four years ago. He came to terms that he no longer could take the battle he had to deal with every single day. He took his own life.
He was always loved. Always supported. He wanted it to be different.
Addiction affects young, old, all races, all ethnicities. It’s the hardest battle to fight. But we will continue the fight for him.