This may seem a very strange analogy, which came to me today whilst changing the beds....My relationship with my drug addicted daughter is very much like my airing cupboard.
My airing cupboard is stuffed to the brim, it is not neat and it isn't tidy, it has mismatched duvets covers there accompanying pillowcases long gone.
I open it and nothing is in any order, often on opening everything falls out on my head, so it gets stuffed back in and the door jammed shut because sorting it out is just too big a job.
On occasions I feel in the mood to take it on and set to, with neat piles and order restored, I stand back feeling quite smug.
The smugness quickly evaporates when things need to be added to it and it quickly gets back to exactly the way it was.
How crap am I why can't I keep it sorted, why does it unravel so quickly without my be even being aware of it.
Of course being the mother of an addict, is much more complex than that, but this is my take on it.