07/09/2025
So… you want to work in addiction treatment?
You want to sit with the dying?
Hold space for the broken?
Wrap your arms around people society would rather forget?
You want to watch a 17-year-old fall in love with he**in, and carry his casket at 21?
You want to hear an 18-year-old girl whisper through tears how she sold her body for one more hit?
You ever heard a father scream so loud in grief he loses his voice cursing God?
Ever held a mother while she begged you to bring her baby back, even though you can’t?
You want to be called a fraud, a scumbag, a sellout, because you collect a paycheck for bleeding out every day trying to save people?
You want to be judged by people who’ve never sat in a detox, never pulled a body from a bathroom floor, but somehow still think they know better?
You ready to fight for hours to find help for someone with no insurance, only to get a call three days later saying they’re dead, and the family wants to know why you didn’t do more?
You want to carry that guilt?
Carry it into your home, your bed, your child’s birthday party, where you feel like a stranger because your soul’s still stuck in that moment you lost another one?
You still want in?
Because this will break you.
It will numb you.
It will rob you of your light, your sleep, and sometimes even your hope.
But if you’re still here, still standing…
Still choosing to show up,
Still choosing to believe in one more chance,
Still fighting for one more life…
Then welcome to the war.
This isn’t a job. It’s a calling.
And despite all of it… I still choose this.
Every damn day.
This is a day in our lives working with addiction!