Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Update and Pensive and Peaceful Thoughts

I made it through the day, focusing on work. I'm waiting for darkness to fall, so that I can climb into bed and (hopefully) fall asleep.

I ended up calling my friend whose son has been selling my son his heroin. I prayed about it, and decided that I would want to know what my son's been up to if the tables were reversed. "AD" was thankful that I told her. We chatted for a while, catching up on our lives. I've known her for at least ten years. She used to be a facial client of mine. We realized we are neighbors, just a mile apart. I love her. She's a Godly woman, with a kind heart. Her son shoots heroin, which is as bad as it gets. "J" has been in and out of rehab, in and out of their home. Like my son, he's never been arrested (well, a misdemeanor for having needles on him).

I am so thankful when I can speak to a Godly woman. We are on the same level. We are both feeling calm-- just trusting our faith in the Lord to keep us from fretting and worrying.

"Barbara" commented that she feels numb-- about her son's recent arrest. I understand. I'm a combination of "numb" and "calm".

For the first time, since this drug addiction journey began, I'm truly realizing that there isn't a single thing that I can do to help my son find a way to face his demon of addiction. I get it.

I am running a few possible scenarios through my head. I'm also accepting that my son might not be living here by Saturday. I have to "feel" my son's desire to stay sober.

He is with his sponsor, now. He says he confessed his drug use to his sponsor. He says that "D" was very disappointed. B walked out the door with a notebook and a pen. They are meeting at Starbucks to start working on Step #1.

My son could be lying. But, I'm not going to focus on that. I've made peace with myself about my son's lies--

As long as B isn't stealing money or property from me, I have come to learn that addicts lie as a way to get what they want-- drugs. I believe that addicts know that what they are doing is morally and legally wrong. But, when an addict needs to use, they bury any kind of moral values and say "f--k it" (my son's own words). My point being-- I'm not going to get riled up if I catch my son in a lie. It's his own demon for him to deal with. He's hurting himself with his lies...unless he steals, and he hasn't yet. Then, he'll find an instant invitation to leave our home and the locks will be changed.

I made a giant leap allowing my son to take care of his own business. B's paycheck was $215.00. He had to pay his employer $117.00 in bounced check charges and another $66.00 to his bank for the bounced checks. He closed his account.

He asked me if I wanted the rest of his money, but I decided to let his weekly rent slide. He has a little bit of money left over. I told him that if he wants to spend $30-some dollars on drugs, that's his choice. I suggested that it would be better used for gas to get to work. My reasoning in giving him a break with paying us weekly rent is that maybe B is suffering the physical consequences of his irresponsibility. He has worked for one week just to pay off bank charges. That has got to hurt.

He knows that he's in high danger of being out of our home, in two days.


Is my son staying clean now? I have no idea. I've given this to God.

Now, when I speak to my son, I try to keep God's wisdom in what I say. I'm not preaching fire and brimstone. I'm trying to choose my words very carefully-- reminding my son that he does not need to feel shame for what he's done. He needs to ask God for forgiveness, and to lean on Him to get him through the temptation that calls out to him.

Addiction is temptation. It' s not about willpower. My son needs to have a will to live a sober life. My son needs to see that God created him for a purpose. B needs to find joy in knowing that he is loved by so many people.

Pain is all part of life's process. Those of us who believe in God's promise of heaven know that we are just here to learn.

When I am all alone, as I was today during my lunch-- I was reclined in my car seat and watching clouds roll by through my moon roof.... I felt my first pangs of deep sorrow for my son. This "storm" that has hit our home can still be a good thing. It makes me cling closer to the Lord. The storms of life draw us nearer to Him.

How I long to see him feel happy, without the aid of drugs.

"High on Life"... such a cliche' from the 60's. But, so true.

I pray that God will give me, my husband and B a peaceful night's sleep.

1 comment:

Anonymous :) said...

Debby,

I am the daughter, sister and mother of an addict. And, I was an addict for a five-year span some thirty years ago. The worst period of my life was when my husband and I realized that our daughter was seriously ill with an addiction. In rehab, they called her a garbage can addict because there isn't a drug that she won't overdo. She has been to three rehabs. We have spent close to one hundred thousand dollars. Beyond the money, I used to drive to work and back crying. I followed her, monitored her friends, contacted the parents of her so-called friends, prayed, contacted parole officers of her friends and judges when it was their court date to ensure that these influencers would be put away for years. I was devastated by my daughter's choices. I saw her very close to death. When the cheap treatment programs didn't work, I drove her to an expensive 90-day program. She was so ill entering that program that she had to spend five days in detox just to get to the 90-day portion of the treatment. She had a beautiful room and was surrounded by some of the most highly recommended drug counselors in the country. My husband and I spent family week surrounded by affluent parents-falling apart. We were all falling apart, all living in as much terror as someone falling out of an airplane without a parachute. The best days were when my husband and I got into a zone where we knew we were falling, but pretended not to care. I watched my husband age rapidly with worry. I counseled my daughter. I took her to a Christian counselor. I drove her to 12-step programs. I blasted Christian music and read all the books that you have recommended. I sat through family weeks. I went to a cardiologist with chest pains and a rapid heart beat. I slept - with no energy left. I woke up in fear. I called my daughter, begged my daughter, loved my daughter. She is one of the truly sweetest people I have ever met. I listened as a Christian counselor raised her voice to say, "Your sweet daughter is gone!" No, she's not I thought. No, she's not. My sweet daughter is very ill. Like your son, her mind lies to her. Then, she turns around and lies to us. Her mind lies like my mind lied to me. When I was young, there wasn't one part of my brain that didn't believe that I was in need of a drug to get through the rest of my life. It didn't matter to me what anyone else thought about that. So, I know what's driving my daughter. I just don't know how to fix her. After my husband and I depleted every resource, on my way home from an out-of-state rehab family week, God blessed me with one thought. "I am not God." That gift, that Christ died to take on my smallest concerns, began my process of climbing out of a deep, dark pit of fear and a belief that if I kept on exerting my energy - mental, physical, spiritual, financial - that my daughter would have an aha moment and all would be well. It's not about me any more. It's about God, only God. I am weak, but He is strong. He is loving and powerful and fixing my daughter is not too big of a job for Him - but it is His job, not mine. I will not fear. I will not interfere. I declare that Jesus is working in her life in unseen ways. If I see her struggling, I will rejoice because I know my God is working. I used to think that my family would not move on without my daughter, that we were in a war and I would not leave my daughter on the battlefield alone. If I had to throw her over my shoulder and carry her out, I would. Now, I know she's not alone. God will carry her out. I will not doubt that for one second. Isaiah 44.
Madison