My blog therapy

My brother sent a link to an article that stated blogs can be group therapy. Boy, howdy! Sometimes I don't know if I'm “blogging” just for my own sake, or someone else’s.

It’s interesting (at least to me) how my blog is evolving into my personal thoughts and feelings.

There are times, when I am writing, that I visualize myself at a podium--- speaking to a room full of parents of addicts. At times, I feel as though I’m venting my feelings to just my family and loved ones. There are, of course, times when I’m writing my feelings to no particular audience.

A couple of days ago, I expressed my frustration with B’s father. I’ve thought about deleting that entry—and I may still do that. It sure felt good to journal my feelings, though. I still haven’t told my son about this blog. I don’t think he’ll mind, because I’ve kept things pretty anonymous. I would hope that the day he reads my thoughts, that it might help him to understand my perspective on how his addiction has affected me. I even hope that he'll want to write his own blog, and share his own story about his addiction and present recovery.

A couple of weeks after I began this blog, I began to read the book “My Beautiful Boy” by David Sheff. It’s a poignant book, but I am relating to so much of what he shares. I’m thankful that B’s addiction didn’t reach the level of shooting heroin or crystal meth into his veins as Nick Sheff did. But the feelings of helplessness, guilt, despair and lack of trust are very similar. No doubt, David Sheff loves his son unconditionally. Ditto, for me.

I never know what thoughts are going to manifest from my head to my keyboard. Each day, I go through a lot of different emotions. At times I am completely focused on my job. Other times, I have moments of feeling anxious and concerned about my son. My best friend makes me laugh, for the most part. She is really getting to know my son. I’m thankful that she finds him amusing. It’s good to have a friend who can gently grab me by the collar, and remind me that I’m slipping into my codependency habits with B. My husband has commented that when I talk to her on the phone (lately is has been several times a day, every day) that she changes my mood to be one of laughter and joy. I so cherish our friendship.

Until very recently, I had no idea the ways that I’ve been enabling my son’s addiction. I simply cannot afford to buy the materials things that B has held as his higher power, so that's something I'm not guilty of. What I’ve come to realize is that I have moments that I want to surprise him with something he really wants. They're not necessarily high ticket items, but they're also not necessities. What parent really doesn’t want to? However, my best friend reminds me that it’s time for B to learn how to get a job, and buy these things on his own. She's right, of course.

How many other parents can relate to this, I wonder?

I did speak to B today, for a few minutes. He sounds good, though I could tell that he didn’t want to chit-chat with me for very long. Thank goodness I don't use the kinds of guilt trips that my mother once used on me..."why don't you every call me?" or "I guess you don't care what the doctor said about my checkup...?" That used to irritate me! At least, that's a victory for me. When I look back to the times that B was using, I am now aware that most of his calls to me were to set me up for the other shoe to drop—the hesitant “so, mom… can you do me a favor”? “How much” is what my mind would immediately wonder.

B definitely wants to break away from me, and I can hear it in his voice. My common sense knows how important it is for me to honor my son’s need to find his own independence. I’m trying, I really am!

I will, however, see him on Mother’s Day. I’m looking forward to it.

Debby