Friday, May 30, 2008

Guess who's coming to dinner?

Right now, my life is on a fast merry-go-round and I want to get off! Work is hectic, and I'm struggling to get a peaceful night's sleep. It's not worry about my son that's keeping me up, this time. It's the curse of menopause that's causing me either throw off my covers, to be followed by a sudden case of shivers that leaves me tired at the end of each workday.

Yesterday, being Thursday, brought B at my job just as the student's were breaking for lunch. I've got it figured out, by now-- B likes to scope out the cute girls who hang around the school. His hormones are in full swing...gone is my shy boy who only cared about Pokemon, skateboards and South Park TV shows.

So, I offered to take my son and his roommate to lunch. Had I known that B would order a plate of Eggs Benedict AND a plate of scrambled eggs with bacon AND juice, I might have stuck to ordering a glass of water and a toothpick for myself. That boy can eat! This is good, because B lost a lot of weight during the time that he was using.

I was proud of my strength when he hit me up for $20.00 that he'd pay back. I simply said "no". He didn't argue with me. Co-dependency classes warn loved ones that we should say "no" to giving addicts money. It's harsh, but my son needs to learn how to provide for himself. At least, I get it. Unfortunately, his father has spent about $1500.00 to fix problems with B's car. In addition, B's father tells me that he's going to give our son $200.00 to pay his parking tickets.

Hello? Can we spell E-N-A-B-L-E-R?

Moving along with last night.--I got home at 7:15pm. I had a haircut/color appointment that I was not going to cancel. Even though I was happy to say "yes" to B's request for him and his roommate to spend the night at our home. Foodie that I enjoy being, I had a plate of seared and roasted pork tenderloin, roasted potatoes and steamed fresh green beans on the table in 40 minutes. It made me very happy to serve him the first home-cooked meal he's probably eating in many weeks.

I was able to spent about 2 hours, total, chatting with B and his roommate (a mature man who seems to be a nice guy). Fatigue took over, and I was in bed by 10.

I woke both guys up at 6:30am, made them both a quick hot breakfast and we all left together. They were appreciative and I enjoyed their company.

So, that's our latest update on how B is doing.

Tonight is when I go to my local Christian support group. I have come to appreciate these meetings. They are my chance to talk with addicts, parents of addicts/alcoholics, survivors of child abuse-- essentially, we share something in common. We are either in recovery, trying to stay in recovery, or we are affected by someone who has been through recovery. Addicts seem more than willing to talk about their addiction.

I enjoy the short worship music and teachings, because I feel encouraged. Next, we break into small groups. The small groups help me, too. I like being in a small room, with a handful of women where we can share our feelings. The rules are strict-- we remain anonymous (no last names). We have 3-5 minutes to speak, and nobody is allowed to interrupt. If we cry, nobody is to hand a tissue to us (there is healing in tears, and we want the person to let go). We cannot offer advice, either.

When I hear other people's stories, I am affected in different ways. Sometimes, I just feel grateful that my problems are small compared to others. Sometimes, I feel someone understands what I am going through, because their story mirrors mine.

Once again, I can hardly wait till tomorrow morning. My alarm will not go off at 5:15am. I can sleep in, read my paper and enjoy a leisurely cup of coffee. I have my husband who wakes up loving and cheerful just about every morning.

I continue to pray for my son throughout different times of the day. There are days when I worry about him, but that's when I remind myself-- God is in control of all things. I revert back to Step #1 and remind myself that I am powerless over my son's addiction. He is powerless over his addiction.

So, I pray, lean on my husband, and attend support groups for people like us-- the ones who are trying to heal from the pain of watching someone struggle with their sobriety.

My son is hanging in there, but he will always battle his addiction. It's just the way things are.

Till the weekend,

Debby

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

So far, your son is hanging in there. I hope that this continues. I wish you and your son the best. May this path continue and I hope that the Lord can guide your son to do things the right way. Goldie

SuboxoneMom said...

Thank you so much for sharing your heartache, pain, fear and joys with those of us in the blogging world.

I am an opiate addict who began my recovery with Suboxone.

Your words have especially touched me because when in our addiction "mode", an addict doesn't think they are hurting anyone except themselves.........

To know that we have broken hearts when we broke our promises to those who stood by us allows me to realize that I hurt far more people than just myself.
And don't be too hard on Dad. Yes, he does enable. I am assuming he doesn't go with you for support.

My fiancee's brother is a meth-addict. I could write for HOURS on what he has done. But instead I will say this; when he asks us for money to eat, pay a bill, pay for an RX at the pharmacy, we do not give him cash. However, it when I see that my fiancee is getting weak, I just encourage him to go with his brother and pay for whatever BS he happens to be using as an excuse for the money. I tell him, "Go ahead, take your brother to the pharmacy and pay for his meds" or "If he needs to pay a bill so badly, ask him to give you the statement and you will pay it for him" and if he needs money for food, Tim offers to take him to eat. 9 times out of 10 his brother decides he doesn't need that RX, or he isn't quite as hungry as he thought he was. Funny, yet sad, right.

We have saved a lot of money when we decided that cash was an evil when it was in his brother's hand......

Godspeed.....

Suboxone Mom