Monday, October 20, 2008

A son's confessions to his mom

B showed up, with his father, at my house around 8:00pm. I could see that B’s eyes had resumed that hooded look. It’s like his addiction had sucked the sparkle right out of my son’s life again.

B asked me to go outside, while he lit up a cigarette. It was déjà vu to last April, where he started to cry. I knew, with a maternal instinct, that this was not an act. He is deeply remorseful and ashamed. This is what he told me:

He said that his father left for Oregon the same time I left for Hawaii. B’s car is still in the shop, so he has no transportation. Boredom set in—and he reminded me that this is a very vulnerable position for addicts to be in. He says that he was invited to go to a party (…said the serpent) and he ran into someone from his drug past. This person offered B some “black” (heroin) to smoke. B says that he didn’t feel much and then went home. He says that the next day he called this “Messenger of Satan” who was happy to come over and “front” more drugs to B. The two of them smoked three times that day and then the following. So, B says that for three days he smoked heroin and that the high was back just like before.

This is exactly what B’s treatment center educated my husband and me about. We were told that should B relapse, that his brain would immediately pick up where he left off. So, B realized he had messed up and he bought some subutex from a friend.

As a mom, all of this felt a bit surreal. I can honestly say that I am not emotionally devastated. I guess that B’s treatment center prepared me for the inevitable—I knew that B only had a 3% odds of staying sober. My feelings weren’t of anger—as a mom, my only thoughts are to get B in for help as soon as humanly possible.

B wanted to wait until this Friday to go in for detox. It didn’t take much for him to agree with my plea for him to go first thing today (Monday). He agreed to do so, and then he broke down into more sobs. I can tell you, that the guttural sobs from someone who is going through withdrawal is enough to tear your heart out. My husband—who is THE most wonderful and compassionate person—came outside. B looked at him, and told him he was ashamed and sorry. My husband was 110% compassionate and supportive.

B and I talked about options. I won’t write anything, further, because I need to trust that God has prepared the way for him to go. As soon as I know, I will update my blog.

I do know this—my son admits that he was not working the program. He admitted that he thought he could so this on his own. The 12-Step program works, if you work it. You need a sponsor. He’s seen other friends clean up their lives without working the 12-Steps…however, each addict has their own story. My son is addicted to opiates. He says that oxy-contin is no longer his drug of choice. It’s heroin. It’s cheaper, and easier to get.

Be afraid, parents. Be very afraid.

Heavenly Father—your power and your glory is far greater than Satan. I pray that you have my son in your precious hands. Please, fill my son with your presence so that he breaks free of the Dark One’s lies. He is deceptive. He is evil. He wants my son. Only you, Abba Father, can make the devil flee.

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