How did I get to be here?

How did I get to be here? How did my life get to this point, mom?

Those were the words spoken to me by my son, the day he was accepted into a medical clinic on April Fool's Day, 2008.

How did my son get to be at this point in his life? That's the million dollar question.

Just yesterday, I was visiting "B" on day #11 since he said "yes" to going in for his first detox. I remember thinking to myself "He's so tall!" I was looking at his hands, with his long fingers. For a moment, I was brought back to a time where he was my precious young boy-- no older than 3 years of age. He was so innocent, full of life and love for his mom. He loved to give and receive butterfly kisses. I was so filled with a hope that he would grow up to have a happy childhood. I can remember how much I wanted my son to be raised without the violence and dysfunction that I had known.

So, how did he get to be where he is today? On April Fool's Day, he was obviously sick-- his body filled with poison. His body is shaking, he feels ill and his beautiful eyes are half closed. I would not know, until the next day, just how loaded he really was. I did not find out, until yesterday, how little he remembers of his two hour drive to a place I had placed my hope in that it would get him well.

It has been eleven days, and I am filled with both hope and fear. In eleven days, I have just scratched the surface to understanding addiction. I am accepting the fact that B has a long a hard journey ahead.

I have attended 3 Al-Anon meetings, so far. It's hard for me to move past the Al-Anon books and pamphlets. Why? Because B's is not an alcoholic. That's a small mercy, but he is still an addict.

So, I have learned to become used to saying "Hi, I'm Debby...and my son is an addict".
I have accepted the fact that there is healing in acknowledging that my son is ill. He is addicted to opiates and he wants to be well.

I am feeling frustrated, fearful and very certain that addicts cannot find recovery unless they are working the program-- I absolutely believe that addicts need to be working the 12-Step program. They need to be in meetings every single day, until they have found a sponsor.

The question is-- will he do this? I know that I will do this. I will work the 12-Steps to help myself and to learn what I can and cannot do to help B. And that is why I have started this blog, TODAY. It is both painful and exhausting to try to explain what's going on. It is my hope that I can direct my friends and loved ones to read and follow along as I share details on my long and difficult journey that I did not buy a ticket to board-- a journey in wanting to support my son's fight to be clean and to stay clean from using drugs.

My son bought this ticket, the first time he was given oxycontin to take. Until two years ago, I had never even heard of this drug. It's evil. It's powerful. It is everywhere-- and it is stealing the souls of our young children.

For two years, I could not tell that my son was using drugs to the depth that he was in. Yesterday, my son confessed all-- it was a lot for me to digest. I hope that my blog will help me process what the two of us spoke about. So, now I know, that addicts will tell their loved ones exactly what they want to hear.

My heart and mind is open, now. I need to try and understand this dark world the my son has entered. I don't want to explore this darkness, but I pray that the light of Jesus will expose this miserable and evil world of drugs. I can't ignore nor deny that I need to support my son, but I might have to say "no" to him. It won't be easy, I know.

My Higher Power of the 12-Steps is the God of the Bible. My Abba Father, My Creator.

How did my son get here, Father? He could, very well, be shot in the head, badly beaten, missing, in an ICU ward or in prison. Thank you, Heavenly Father, for your mercy on him.

You have a plan for him.

In Jesus' Name,

Mom