Sunday, March 29, 2009

Spiritual battles and putting on God's armor

Yesterday wore me out, emotionally. I spent two hours with my son, taking care of errands. Those two hours felt like I'd been throw into a boxing cage, and I came home frazzled and on the verge of a total meltdown.

B is in a very fragile state, with his sobriety. I can sense it, just like the weather is beginning to heat up to spring climates.

This "D" guy, that took my son to a Thursday meeting... he's bad news. Very bad news. He shares the same name as his sponsor. That's the "D" I thought was calling me at home, asking for B. It's the same "D" who has been calling my cellphone (B lost his recently). It turns out that he's been the person selling my son weed.

He's on my S**t List. I told my son that "D" has no business being anywhere near my house. I'm not happy that this guy even knows where I live, let alone my phone numbers.

I don't want drug users/sellers in my life. I'm living with one, who is fighting for his sobriety.

It appears that B owes the guy money. $30.00, he says. I drove B to meet this guy at Border's--a public place. B gave D the remainder of his cash. All of it. I am waiting outside the door.

15 minutes later, my cellphone rang and B grabbed it. He told D not to call my cellphone or house again. I was angry. Something feels very wrong. Very, very wrong.

Things went downhill from there. B seemed stressed and anxious. There's something going on.
I agreed to drop B off, for 1/2 hour to meet his sponsor. In the meantime, I paid $145.00 to pick up his diabetes prescriptions and suboxone refill.

I got home later than I planned to, and that set me into a really foul mood.

!#$!$#!@.... the dysfunction that follows with addiction is back in my house.

My cellphone rang again. It was "D"'s number. He hung up when I answered.
I called him back from a land line.
He answered.

"This is B's mom. I heard my son tell you not to call my numbers again. You know why my son is living with me. For that reason, I will not allow anyone to come near this house or to contact my son if I feel that they are going to jeopardize my son's rules to live here."

"What did I do?" he asked, incredulously.

"B told me everything. I know. Don't call here anymore, and leave my son alone."

Pause.

"Okay", he says.

Click.

I told B what happened.

"Can I call him, with you listening?".

"Yep, go ahead". I hand him the phone.

B dials and D answers.

Things sounded heated. B kept saying "I'll talk to you face-to-face". B seems to be trying to calm D down and I can hear D shrieking. B keeps telling him that he's in serious trouble with me. He tells D that I'm freaked out and B wants no more to do with him.

I'm going to lose it, I can tell, at this point.


I tell B to hang up. Now.

B continues to argue with D and I grab the phone.

I tell D that he is harassing my son, and if he continues to do this, I will call the police.

B freaks out and grabs the phone back.

By now, my blood pressure is through the rough. S**t.

Flashback:

I recall who this D is now. He ran with B and his heroin using friend last year. I heard that D is bi-polar and not quite right. He's violent. He's vengeful. He barged into my ex-husband's house and confronted B over money, before. Even my ex couldn't calm him down.

I asked B why in the world (well, HELL) did he reconnect with him?!

"I thought he had changed", he replied.

I'm thinking that he has not learned. This guy, obviously, has something B wants. Weed.

"I regret it, mom. I want him out of my life."

My son was a chatterbox, last night. He would not shut up. This is not a good sign.
I asked him to pee and he readily agrees. I wait, outside the toilet door and he dips the tester into the urine.

Thank God. Clean for opiates and cocaine. Positive for THC.

B is back to chain smoking. These are not good signs.

I tossed and turned, all night. I dreamed about finding drugs in the house.

I overslept, this morning. I slept too late to go to church.

Devil, get out of my joy!

It's noon. B woke up at 9:30 and said he wanted to go to church. I handed his suboxone dose and talked to him. I told him that I am feeling we had a major setback, over the last three days. I told him that I am very concerned that he is holding back something from me. I tell him we have time to make the next service.

"I'm not using, mom", he said.

Yeah, heard that many times before. I leave the room.

15 minutes later, I could hear him snoring. He's still snoring.

I think that I'll let him sleep. It's better, this way. He did his chores, yesterday. I told him to purge his car, completely of all paraphanalia. All of it. He's been procrastinating this. He showed me all the foils, with that ugly black stripe of heroin. I have come to loathe the sight of it. He founds some straws. We got rid of it. The car sits in our driveway. We've insured it only in case it's vandalized or stolen. I hope this isn't going to happen...but this D guy worries me. B doesn't have car insurance. He hopes to save money to buy car insurance.

If he quits blowing money, and knows that buying weed--- or any drugs-- will end his living here, he can do this in a couple of months. We worked on a budget, and he sees that after paying rent and savings, he should have an extra $100 a week. If he learns to be careful, he can save for insurance. The boy can't save money. I have a long way before I can hope to show him what sacrificing and patience (he has none of those traits, yet) can do.

He cleaned out his closet and showed me books and magazines, where he stashed foils. They are now gone. He emptied his duffel bag, and found more foils. These are all from before January, when he was lying about his sobriety.

Poison. Disgusting poison. I hate the sight of heroin.

Today, he has to shampoo his bedroom carpet.

I told him that if I find any black residue...any more of the foils, it's over. If I find any positive traces of any drugs in his test, he's gone.

Telling my husband about this, while B is sleeping, made me choke up.

"Do you know what my greatest fear is?", I asked my husband.

"That B will relapse again?" he replied.

"Worse. That he will relapse and I will have to throw my son out of my life for one year. I cannot fathom the pain that will bring me".

Dear God. The devil is attacking this house with all that he has. My son has one foot in your Holy world and one foot in the devil's snare. My son knows you, Father. My son clearly knows the difference between right and wrong. But the devil is fooling him. The devil is playing with him. The devil is tempting my son.

I pray that you will sever ties to D and anyone else who is trying to lure my son back into using drugs. I pray, Heavenly Father, that you will deafen the lies of discouragement that the devil is whispering into B's ears. I pray that you, God, will fill my son's thoughts with your loving and encouraging thoughts. Help me, Father, to be a Godly mother. Help me, Father, to show my son that he is making progress and that you are pleased.

Thank you Father, that my son and I are able to talk. I pray that I will help lead my son down the path you have set before us. I want to follow you, Lord. I pray that my son will follow along with me.

Amen.

1 comment:

Barbara(aka Layla) said...

Hi,

I am going through your blog reading posts here and there. The similarities between our sons is uncanny, but I guess its to be expected because the basic characteristics of all heroin addicts are the same.

Oh how I can relate to finding foil with the black mark, my son used pens most of the time for a straw...every pen in the house was gone, I had to replace them with the kind you can't pull apart and use as a tube/straw.

My son is on day three of suboxone. I am scared. I don't have a husband or an ex-husband to support me through this - not saying that as "poor me" just saying that it would be so much easier to have a male involved in all this. It seems to help.

Good luck. I will be pryaing for you and B.