Not Your Fault

The man nodded as he gestured to an empty chair. “Please, join us.”

I hesitated before sitting down in the chair he indicated. I didn’t know what to do in this situation. I knew how support groups worked in theory, but I never thought I would find myself actually attending one. I decided to just sit back and listen this time. I wanted to understand how everything actually worked before I shared. I knew that I was going to have a hard time, but I was determined to try. I sat up straighter, trying to focus on the task at hand. It was hard. Probably harder than trying to deal with my emotions by myself.

Every story that I heard broke my heart. The amount of tears that were shed during the group as the members spoke was enough to fill an ocean. I found myself relating to them in a way that I didn’t think was possible. When the leader of the group asked me if I wanted to speak toward the end of the meeting, I cleared my throat nervously. I wasn’t sure if I was ready. Hell, I knew I wasn’t ready, but I had taken the step to show up. I needed to take this step and share too.

“Yes.”

“You have the floor.”

“Well, as I said before, my name is Brennan,” I said as I clasped my hands together between my thighs with my eyes glued to the floor. “My wife and I had three girls. Triplets. Their names were…” I cleared my throat again. “My wife and I had a lot of problems. During one of our fights, she took the girls and tried to leave. On her way home, she crashed the car, and all of them passed away.” I paused to try to calm the tightness in my chest. “They were all gone before I arrived on the scene. I have spent the last several years since the car crash blaming myself. If I had just given in to what my wife wanted, she wouldn’t have taken my girls. If I had been a better father, I would have left my wife and sought full custody of my girls. If I had been smarter, I would have realized sooner that my wife’s addiction outweighed everything else. Even our girls. I miss them every day, and I wonder if there is anything I could have done to have saved them.”

I lowered my head more as I took a deep breath. “I can’t help but blame myself. I tried so hard to be a good father. I tried so hard to be a good husband. I got the two mixed up and ended up putting more emphasis on the wrong relationship. I live every day with the guilt. I am not ready to let them go, but I am ready to let my guilt go. My daughters were everything to me. They still are. They were so pure and innocent. They wouldn’t want me holding onto this blame that I placed on myself. I want to honor them by letting it go.” I looked around at the group, expecting to see pity on their faces, but all I saw was understanding.

“Does anyone have anything to say to Brennan about what he said?” The facilitator asked.

“My daughter was an addict. I know how hard it is to deal with that. The addiction takes over and consumes their soul. There isn’t anything you could have done if she wasn’t ready to stop. I had my daughter in and out of rehab for 6 years before she overdosed. I held onto my guilt for years because I thought that I could have done more. I should have tried harder. I should have forced her to stay in rehab. I should have locked her up in the house and not let her out until she was better. But that’s not the way it works. It all comes down to decisions. No matter how much I begged her to stop, no matter how much I spent on rehab, it was always my daughter’s decision to use. The same goes for your wife. She made a decision. It takes a strong man, well, a strong person, to stand beside someone who has an addiction. Especially when that person makes it known that they don’t care about you as much as you care about them. It’s hard not to just walk away. But for as hard as it is not to walk away, it’s even harder to stay. You tried to help her. You tried to protect them all. Their deaths were not your fault. It was the addiction’s.”

I shook my head a little. “It was mine. I knew she was struggling. I should have helped her in a different way.”

“No, Brennan, it’s not. Unless you introduced her to whatever she was addicted to, it was nott your fault. The hardest thing I have had to accept in my healing journey is that my daughter’s overdose wasn’t my fault. Your wife made a decision, a bad one. And because of that decision, she, along with three innocent children, lost their lives. You will realize that her decision was hers and hers alone. And once you realize that, your healing journey will be successful. Trust me, it will not be easy, but it is worth it when you can let go of all of the negative feelings and be able to focus on the good ones. On the good memories.”

I nodded as I tried to discreetly wipe away a tear. “That’s why I’m here.”

“And here is a great place to start,” the facilitator said before clapping his hands together. “I think that is a good ending place. Our next meeting is Friday. I hope to see all of you here.” When everyone started to get up to leave, the facilitator called out my name, making me turn back toward him. “May I have a word?”

“Yes,” I answered as I walked over to him.

He led me over to a table where he started to pack up the coffee before writing an address, a date, and a time on a napkin. I looked down at it when he pushed it into my hand.

“What is this?”

“It’s another support group.”

“Are you kicking me out already?” I inquired angrily.

“Not at all. That group is for widows and widowers. I think you might benefit from it. I know of other groups if you are interested. I know of a group of people who have dealt with or are dealing with addicts. If you are interested in it, I can get you the information on it too. I just don’t know when that meets off the top of my head. I run this meeting and the one for losing your partner. That’s why I know the details of it,” he told me.

I crumpled the napkin in my fist. “And you think that group will help me?”

“Yes. I know it will. The pain you are feeling, the guilt, is mostly due to your wife. That group, along with the other one, will help you work out that guilt. So, please, think about it and let me know. I hope this doesn’t deter you from coming back to this group, but I am hoping that you will decide to go to the other ones. We can’t just heal one aspect of your guilt and pain. We have to heal all of them. At the same time if we can. If we don’t, you will never heal, not even in that one aspect. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I nodded as I looked down at the napkin again. “I do. Thank you.”

“Will I be seeing you at that meeting tomorrow?”

I swallowed hard, trying to push the lump down in my throat. “Yes. I’ll be there.”

He put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. “It’s a great first step, Brennan. Give it a little time and really work at this. I promise you it works. It hurts, and it will break your heart, but every day gets a little easier. Your girls will go from being the source of your pain to one of the things that will make you smile.” He pulled a card out of his pocket to hand to me. “If you need anything or just want to talk, this is my cell phone number. Don’t hesitate to use it.”

I nodded as I took it from him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I walked out of the room, my thoughts going in a million different directions, with the main one being: Was Harry right? Was there anything that I could have done that would have changed the outcome of what happened? Was it all her choice, and nothing mattered but her next hit? I sat at Eden’s gate for a long time after I arrived, silently crying as my thoughts continued to race. Long after the sun had faded from the sky, I climbed out of my car, slowly walking to Leah’s house, only stopping long enough to let Rose know I was back. She had taken one look at me before hugging me tightly. I held her for a moment before excusing myself to crawl into Leah’s bed. As I wrapped her pillow up in my arms, I let my tears freely flow again.

“I wish you were here, Leah. I wish I had just told you that I loved you,” I whispered into the air. “I wish I could hold you. Especially right now. I need you. More than you ever needed me…”