Friday with my son....at least, I hope so

I feel as though my battery is running low. Yesterday, I was flushed and feeling a little "off".  When I get home, last night, I made homemade chicken soup and went to be early. I was too tired to blog, watch TV or do much of anything else.

I try to reply to the comments that are left by you readers, but I'm so tired when I get home that I don't do it as often as I want to. Thank you so much. I read each of your comments, and consider what you are trying to say. There is so much wisdom and support that each of you generously leaves. I appreciate hearing the points of view from parents and I especially appreciate hearing the perspectives from recovering addicts. 

My son called me, yesterday. He was upset that his doctor won't renew his prescription for suboxone because he has not been in to see him for three months. B called me, sounding very upset. B had a doctor's appointment that he "forgot" about. Now, the next opening isn't for three weeks and the office basically acts like "oh well".  They're not a friendly office. In fact, they're downright rude. But, they are the only certified doctor to prescribe suboxone where we live. I wish another doctor would come into town and give this office some competition. But, that's just me...

"Mom, I'm scared".  "I can't make it past five days", my son lamented.

You need help, B but you won't seek it-- is all I could think.

Let me pause right there-- 
I am fully aware that my son is trying-- without any success-- to work his own program. B has talked himself into a million reasons why "meetings" don't work.  He has a sponsor who has way too much personal drama in his life. My son's life is spiraling into complete danger.  B knows what to do. He learned it in April 2008, at his treatment center. My son did really well while he was in rehab. He's smart. He knows all the sayings of the program. He was all about "the program". He stayed sober for six months.  I have paid for counselors. I have taken my son to meetings. I've even set up "rewards" (privileges) if he went to meetings. I've drug tested him. 

B cannot seem to let go of his "past"-- those friends that he used with.  For six months, B lived away from here. Still, he admits he would drive 2 hours back to his home turf.  So, my son relapsed after six months. He did another stint in rehab one year ago, at this time. He used drug inside the treatment center. So, you see? B isn't necessarily safe in a treatment center.

My son needs to learn how to be safe with himself, no matter where he is!

I know that the best thing for B would be to go into a treatment center and then an SLE for one year. There's a good chance I can get my son into "Rescue Mission", located in the Bay Area of California. There, my son can live for FREE for one year.  But B won't do it. He says the area "isn't nice". (Really, and your life is all roses?)  He says that he doesn't want to live with a bunch of junkies. (Really? And you are...?)  I've heard of Teen Challenge.  B's friend "Z" spent a year there. Z came back clean and sober and on fire for Jesus. It is "Z" who offered my son free heroin if he'd hook him up with his connection. Z spews out scripture and goes to church, then uses heroin.

I found such hope that my son was working, got his own apartment and that he wasn't using. But he admits that he can't stay clean for seven days. He made it to fifteen days, and then his friend seduced him. It takes two, I know...

Back to my son's call--

Finally, I said to B, "I can't help you. I can only be a compassionate voice".

There was a pause. I had a feeling that my son was hoping I'd offer to buy him suboxone at full price. I won't. First, I can't afford that luxury. Secondly-- my son was irresponsible with his suboxone. Whether his roommate stole them, or my son sold them is irrelevant. Had my son been more careful, knowing that his roommate is a thief, he would still have suboxone.  I didn't say this out, loud of course. I'm just letting you (readers) know my thoughts.

Then I said, "If  "M" (his roommate) is such a good friend, then it is his responsibility to replace the subs that he stole from you.".

Silence.

"I'm sorry, honey. I can hear your frustration and fear. You need help, and you need to find a way to not need suboxone. Your insurance is finished in two months."  NOTE: My son's COBRA will increase to $800.00 a month, and we cannot afford that. As it is, we are paying $400.00 a month.

"Yeah", he said, sadly.

"I'm sorry, hon. I really am".

I didn't hear from my son all day on Thursday. As I laid in bed, I prayed for my son. I can't imagine that B has any peace in his head.

I'm supposed to pick B up at 6:00, tonight.  I plan to take him to his apartment to gather up his dirty laundry. My son's clothing  looks unkempt. He has no money or car to get to a laundromat.  I will cook dinner for my son, and let him take a good shower. My son doesn't shower for weeks, but he doesn't stink. I don't know why. It grosses me out, but that's how he's been for quite some time. 

It is my hope that I can try and put aside my son's drug addiction, and have a small amount of family time. It will be "pretend", but dinner in our home is about conversation. When B was a little boy, I never allowed the TV to be on.  Dinner = family time.  How I long to spend time with my son, where we're not talking about drugs!

I hope that my son can enjoy a homecooked meal and take home clean smelling clothes. I'll drive him home, tell him I love him and pray he gets some sleep.

But, anything can happen. When my son is withdrawing, it's so painful to see. Sometimes, he can't eat.  He sleeps a lot.

My son turns 21 on Sunday.  It seems that B has taken a detour from the path that God  set before him. I pray that my son will find his way back to that road that is lit by God's perfect light.

Stay tuned...

Ten minutes in the car with my son...

I think I'm in a state of "numb".  By that, I feel as though I've grown a very thick skin when it comes to dealing with my son's addiction to opiates. I feel as though B is in limbo. He's withdrawing again. It pains me, deeply, when I see my son leaning against my car window...his arms crossed protectively over his stomach. From the corner of my eye, I can tell that my son is in pain.

I gave B a ride to his job at 6:30 this morning. B muttered an apology to me that he wasn't talkative. Yesterday was his day off (they cut 8 hours from his 56 hour work week). He said he stayed in bed all day long.   What can I say to that?

B muttered "I can't go on doing this".  Somehow, I interpreted that to mean that he's tired of the cycle of sobriety, then relapse, then withdrawal.  I paused a moment.  Then I said, "it's an evil thing".

"What?" he asked.

"Drugs. It's an evil thing. It draws you in."

"Yeah", he responded.

He's due for more suboxone.  I suggested he call and order them.  I handed B a lunch I packed for him, as I made mine.

I will pick B up on Friday, after work. I told him to bring all of his dirty clothes and I'll make him a nice dinner while he is washing it.

"Thanks mom", he said.  He opened the car door into the early morning dark.  For a moment, B looked at me-- as though he wanted to say something.  Then he said "bye and thanks".

I drove off to work, feeling sick to my stomach.  For a moment, I began to horribilize my son's imminent death or incarceration, unless he changes his ways.  Then, I turned in my iPod and listened to Pastor Greg Laurie on Harvest radio.   Pastor Greg has been my morning dose of teaching of the gospel.  He's a wonderful teacher and I have faithfully listened to his daily 20 minute messages.  Today's message is on "courage".  I was reminded of the Apostle Paul, who was suffering in a Roman dungeon.  Still, Paul sang hymns and praised God. Pastor Greg went on to explain that "be of good cheer" in Greek really translates to "Be of good courage".

I'm in that dungeon right now.  I turned off his show and said a prayer for a mother who wrote to me last night. She shared her story with me-- so similar to many of ours. Tonight, I will read her story when I have time to respond to her.

For a moment, tears welled up in my eyes. When that happens, it's when I pray like this:

Father, thank you that you are my source of strength and courage. I pray that a miracle will happen for my son, today. I pray that before my son ends up in jail, or he dies from his drug use, that he will be enlightened by you. B is under spiritual attack, and I pray that you will intervene for my son. I ask that you will empower me with your wisdom and knowledge.  Thank you, Father, that despite my pain in watching my son destroying his life and health-- that I can still feel that my blessings far outweigh my struggles.
I pray for the mother who reached out to me. I pray that you will use me as your voice to her, and others who are struggling with a loved ones with addiction.

Thank you, Father, for your mercy.

In Jesus Name.

My thought for today-- courage is fear with prayers.

B's phone call to me and his update

No sooner had I logged off from my laptop yesterday (Saturday)  and I got busy doing my chores-- the phone rang at 10:45am. It was B. 

"Hey, mom".  "Can you give me a ride to work?" 

Of course, I said yes. These are rare golden moments to catch up on my son.  I'll try to update what he said and  I will type my thoughts in italics, as they were conversations in my head but I never said to B.

I picked up B at 11:40am. He smiled, and as we drove off I asked him how he's been.

B: "Not good", he replied.

Me: Shi*, I thought in my head.

B: Well, remember how I said I had 15 days of sobriety... (he pauses).

Me: Dear God, I think to myself.

B: Well, "M" stole all of subs (suboxone) and so it made me relapse.

I said nothing. I just felt my stomach doing twists.

B:  I relapsed, mom.  I'm broke.

Me: "Are you sober now?"

B: Yes.

Pause a moment-- I'm not believing that. How can he be clean without subs? He'd be in terrible withdrawals. But, I don't say these things... I just listen.

B went on to tell me that his friend "Z" asked B to connect him with dope (heroin).  "Z" freebases it, just like my son does. B said that Z offered him a free gram for hooking him up.

"How can I say no to that, mom? I'm an addict?!"

I said nothing.  I felt like throwing up and my head was spinning.

B goes on to say he's sick of being M's roommate and he wants out. He says as soon as he gets money-- they he says, quickly-- "yeah, I keep saying that but I meant it, this time"...he says he wants to move out and away from M. He blames his friends for getting him strung out again.

No, B, you got yourself strung out, I think.

At this point, I ask how much his paycheck was. He tells me, and he explains that he owed Z $350.00 for drugs he fronted for him and another $150.00 for his "connection".  I do my head math, and realize that left him with less than $100.00 to last for two weeks. Essentially, all of his hard earned money went for drugs.

B goes on to tell me, in great detail, about his relapse. Deja vu', I think.

Finally, I said to my son "I'm disappointed and I'm sad, but I'm not surprised.   I don't lecture, this time. I realized that I've made a step in acceptance that I cannot change my son's decision to be clean or sober. He has to do it.

What I did say to B was that I cannot focus on his friends who are using. I tell my son that I can only focus on his (my son's story)-- and that I'm praying for him, because that's all I can do.

B is quiet.  I think he was expecting a lecture, but it never came.

He asks if I would buy him a bottle of water, because he's thirsty. Being a diabetic-- and one who doesn't take care of his health-- thirst is common when his blood sugar is high...stress really causes B's blood sugars to soar. I park, get out of the car with him and I buy him water,  some snacks and I give him $5.00 to buy lunch at the golf course snack shop. B grins, and says "thank you" with enthusiasm.  For the record, I don't consider that enabling.  B can't buy drugs for $5.00. He has to eat-- and he's a diabetic. Sometimes, the diabetes overrules his drug addiction, in my book.

I drop him off work and tell him I love him.  I tell him I'm praying that he will disconnect himself from friends who use.  I emphasis, that I'm praying for him. He nods his heads in agreement, says he loves me, gets out of the car and waves at me as I drive away.

As I'm walking through the grocery store, I realize how blessed my life is. I can buy anything I want to
eat-- filet mignon, organic fruits and vegetables-- anything I want at all. We aren't rich, but we have no debt.  We have savings, and both of us work and have benefits.  My son is struggling to make ends meet-- learning how to pay rent, he has no car, and he's a drug addict who is insulin dependent. He has little food in his apartment, and he is broke.

I realize that my head is spinning in shock, and I begin praying that God would ease the stress and fear that is beginning to well inside my eyes and I feel like crying.  Fortunately, I compose myself and I begin to shop for the groceries we need for the week. There's no filet mignon, of course!  I shop frugally and wisely. My husband and I live a very simple life, and we like it just that way.

I dreamed of my son, last night. At moments when I would wake to full consciousness, I prayed for him.  My son is struggling against odds that are not in his favor.  I'm so disappointed in his relapse. I come to terms that my son has never really been sober since May 2009.

I think of fellow bloggers who have children in jail.  I pray for them. I cannot imagine the pain of knowing your loved one is in jail. I thank God that my son isn't in jail. I drift back to sleep...

This morning, I went to the grocery store and bought my son some grocery staples. I will take the $50.00 out of his trust account-- which is slowly whittling down to nothing.  I still don't think this is enabling. While my son blew his money on drugs, I won't let him starve. Again, he's a diabetic and he needs to eat.  We swing to his apartment (right behind the grocery store) and B comes downstairs to retrieve what I bought-- milk, bread, cheese, juice (for low blood sugars), lunch meat, some canned chili. He's is so thankful. 

B never asked me for money or food. I wanted to do this. Is this codependence?  No, I don't think so. It's a mother loving her child. 


In my heart, my son is still using.  As I sit in church, I bow my head and pray that my son will return to his Higher Power.  Without my son leaning on Jesus Christ, his odds of never recovering are not in his favor. Without Jesus Christ in my life, I would not have the strength to accept the things I cannot change. Without my faith in God, I would worry myself sick over my son.

I believe that I have made a giant leap of faith as the mother of a drug addict. I finally understand that there is nothing I can say or do to help my son find sobriety.  My son will have to finally admit that he is powerless to change his ways-- until he wants sobriety more than anything else in his life.

For now, the best thing I can do is what I have finally learned.   I need to be a safe place where my son can tell me what's happening in his life.  I believe that B finally trusts me-- and if I can learn to listen to him and continue to praise God's name and pray for my son-- one day, my son will surrender his will to God's. I truly believe this. B picked up his bible from me about two weeks ago.  He talks of God, often.

One day, my son will ask God to shine his perfect light and exposes the darkness that possesses him right now.

I'm very sad to know that my son is still using.  I rejoice that God has been so merciful to my son.

At least my son is alive.  I continue to pray that God would sever the relationship between B and M. I continue to pray for M, who is an alcoholic and a drug addict.  I feel pity for M's spiral into what, I believe, will ultimately end up with his being in jail.

I pray my son will never end up in jail-- and that he will change his ways, before it's too late.

I've been without the internet for 24 hours. In a way, it's almost like God holding me to my affirmation that I want to whittle down my time on the internet and to spend more time doing things for me-- and for my marriage.  So, back to real life-- I'm logging off now.


Thanks for listening and reading.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time; Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it; Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His Will; That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him Forever in the next. Amen. --Reinhold Niebuhr In loving memory of Fr Bertram Griffin -- 1932-2000 Requiescat in Pace

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will direct your paths. Proverbs 3, 5-6

Getting to know my support system & restructuring my daily routine

Sleeping in, this morning, was long overdue. Yesterday was a 14 hour day for me-- my job and then working the football game ticket booth with my husband. We get paid to do it, and we enjoy the energy of the high school kids-- and watching the game in our beautiful new stadium. Still, I was dragging my knuckles as I came home.

I checked my blog and then I decided to visit the other blogs I'm following. I found myself reading late into the night. Then, I realized-- I spend a lot of timing blogging my food and recipes in my "other profile". I spend time taking care of my house chores, cooking for ourselves and reading recipes.

I don't spend enough time visiting other bloggers who are dealing with addiction in their lives.  Why?  I felt selfish and I want to change that.  Before falling asleep, I quietly prayed for my son and for the stories I had read -- and caught up with.

I changed my routine, this morning. Instead of reading my food bloggers RSS feeds, I read blog RSS feeds on addiction. I want to get to know all of you.  You have been so supportive to me! I want to support and pray for you. 

I still feel angst about my son's silence. We did not have a disagreement, or anything.  Having read Madison's post this morning, I hope that my son is avoiding me.  Madison made a comment on another blog (I have so grown to admire her) that spoke to my heart. My co-dependent tendency is to feel resentment when my son doesn't accept my help-- recently, offering to drive him to the DMV to get his driver's license replaced.  Thank you, Madison.  You are right. I need to be aware of that.

I am checking in on Lynn's blog, Where is my Perfect Happy Family?, because she needs encouragement. I am praying that she will not feel so overwhelmed and inadequate and that she will slowly learn to work on not enabling her son.

I always read An Addict In Our Son's Bedroom-- there, I find so much wisdom, written to eloquently.

I am relating with Lisa's pain in denying her son's request to move back home. 

There are many other bloggers I will acknowledge-- so if I didn't mention you, I will! 

Now, I'm going to log off my laptop and pay attention to my husband and taking care of my weekend chores. My refrigerator cupboard is bare and I want tonight to be a date night. 

I miss my son, and I have grappled with "should I call"?  I think I need to let my son call me. He knows I love him.  I have to wait, patiently and hope B is working on his sobriety. With his crazy, alcoholic roommate, the odds are not in his favor. Still, I have to resist my urge to "horribilize" my thoughts with too many "what if's".

Praying for and appreciating all of my blogger friends and followers. Thank you!

A prayer for my son as I wait to hear from him

Heavenly Father,

Thank you for your grace and for your mercy with my son. You know that my heart is heavy, having not heard from my son.  I pray that my son's lack of calling me is all of your divine plan for him. I pray that my son is breaking away from me, and that he is learning to take care of his obligations without my interference.
I confess to you that, at times, I feel anxiety and fear for my son's safety. But, I give that back to you, Lord, at the cross I lay all of my worry. For if I worry, then I am telling you that I don't trust you.

I pray for the families of addicts and lift them up to you. I pray that you would encourage their hearts, qualm their fears and reveal yourself to them-- that they would know that you are our Almighty God and that nothing is impossible for you.

I pray for Lynn, who found my blog and is reaching our for support from those of us who share an addict in our family. May you comfort her, guide her and hear her prayers.  I pray that you will bless my blog as a ministry and a conduit for your glory, Father.

I ask that you would put it into my son's heart, to send me a message that will be good news. I pray that my son, right now, is sober and that he is longing to reconnect with you. I pray that my son is feeling the peace and joy that only our Lord, Jesus can give us when we are most afraid.

Thank you, Father, for blessing my life-- with my husband, my friends, my blog supporters and my church.

I pray these things, in Jesus Name.

Amen.

A new blog from a mom who needs support

I would like to ask my readers, followers, friends  and supporters (you mean so much to me) to pop into this new blog. This mom is dealing with alcohol addiction with her son.

We could all use group hugs. I know-- so many of you give them to me and it helps me so much.

Please visit: Where is my perfect family?

Not a word....

Work has been crazy, this week. I think of B a lot.

I haven't heard a word since Sunday night's drama. Nothing. Zip. 

My son got his first big paycheck on Tuesday.

Father God, I pray that my son is using wisdom with his money. I pray that my son is not listening to the temptation to spend his money on drugs. I pray that my son is determined to pay his rent, take care of his obligations-- and I also pray that he is doing something legal, fun and affordable with it. He works so hard.

The only reason that I'm not calling my son is that I need to let him figure out how to live on his own. I'm afraid that if I call, he'll want something...

I live in faith that if something bad happened to my son, I would have received a phone call.

I wait. I trust. I pray. I hope.

I miss him and I love him.  

Crazy, insane phone calls in the middle of the night

It's 9:30pm and Craig and I kiss each other good night.

12:45AM, the phone rings. I jolt awake, afraid--

It's B's roommate, I realize. He sounds out of it.
"I'm worried about B", he says?

"What? What's wrong?" I shriek back. I hear C bolt upright and awake.

There's a pause-- M says "sorry, I shouldn't have called".

The line goes dead.

I lay in bed, heart pounding.

The phone rings a few minutes later. It's M. He says my son is hallucinating and acting weird. He sounds loaded/drunk, to me. I ask him if B had used anything. No, he says, he had a couple drinks with M.
He starts to prattle some crazy stuff to me, and says that B is asleep. I hear call waiting, but M is yelling to B to wake up! I hear him pleading with B to respond.

C's cellphone rings. It's B's dad. In the meantime, M is telling me a crazy story-- something so wild that I can't even talk about it for fear it might be true.
I see C getting dressed. B gets on the phone, and he sounds out of it-- like he's been sleeping. He says he wants to go to a meeting... I tell him I'll come get him.
The line goes dead.

C and I drive to B's apartment at 1:05am. I call B and he answers his cellphone. B sounds coherent and fine. He says he's sorry I got called. He says there's drama going on, but he can't talk about it. I ask him to come downstairs so I can see that he's okay. Instead, he leans over the balcony, with M and they both appear okay. B says he's sorry I got a call in the middle of the night. He reassures me that he's okay.

I call B's dad, who is on the brink of hysteria. He wants me to call the paramedics. B's dad says that B had called him earlier to say he's going to drown himself in the river. This reminds me of when he OD's on his Kolonopin.

I tell B's dad I can't force B into the car.

We get home at 1:15am. I lay awake until about 2 am, visualizing giving this to God. It's more than I can handle.

It's 5:20am, and the alarm goes off. I jump, and realize I have to go to work. I'm exhausted. I call B. No answer. I pray.

It's 6:45am and I'm driving to work. I call B. No answer.

It's 7:20am and B answers the phone.

"B, are you okay?"

"Yes, mom."

"What the hell happened, last night?" "M was talking crazy stuff."

"I'm sorry, mom."

"Are you at work?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I just want to you are are alright".

"I love you, mom".

It's 4:20pm. When I get home, I'm making a light supper then turning off the lights by 9pm.

I need to sleep.

Please, God. No more calls in the middle of the night. You are watching over my son.
I pray this is all part of your plan.

Mom

He is trying

Today is my last day of vacation. B called me, last night, asking if I would mind giving him a ride to work. He has been getting up at 5am to walk over an hour to work. I said "yes", since I've been sleeping in all week and I need to get my brain back into early wake-ups.

My son was very thankful, as I handed him a cup of coffee and a breakfast roll. It was dark and very foggy. I struggled to see the road-- and I was thankful my son wasn't walking in the darkness.

I have to commend my son that he is working seven days a week and walking to work. If my son was using, to the degree that he was, this would not be happening.

Thank you, God. My son is putting his best foot forward. He is going to work on time, and he seems to be growing into a man.

Thank you, Madison, for a lovely comment that touched my heart. You are an amazing woman:

Yes, some families (not that many) seem to be so blessed with wisdom and favor that they never have to live through much of anything. But, for the rest of us, we get to lean on a loving God's strength to help us live in peace. We get to believe that the biggest flakes in the world will grow to become the amazing people they were born to be. All mistakes forgiven. Walking miracles. We get to believe before we see. Have a very blessed day.

My life is blessed,

Comment moderation and anupdate on dealing with life

Yikes! I forgot to sync my Gmail to download into Outlook. Plus, I forgot that I needed to log on to this blog to approve comment moderation. Sorry! I had wondered why nobody had responded to my posting, and then I realized the problem.
Thank you, for your encouragement. It means so much to me.
----------------------------------------------------
C and I have been enjoying paid time off, at home. California had it's first big storm of the year. The storm, as predicted, hit early on Tuesday morning. I woke up around 4am, thinking of B. Did he find a ride to work at 6:30am? I had bought a water-proof hooded jacked for my son, as an early birthday gift (November 1 is his 21st birthday). B was thrilled when I gave it to him. I said a quiet prayer that my son was okay and able to get to his job, and drifted back to sleep.

Later on, that morning, I called my son. He said that he borrowed money to take a taxi to work, and that he arrived on time. He said his boss called him to say that he wasn't needed, because of the storm. B was mad, and he said he boss dismissed his frustration. I asked him how he got home.

"I walked", he said.

"How long did it take?" I asked.

"About an hour and a half", he responded.

I had mixed feelings about that. I felt relief that B had a good rain jacket to wear, and yet I felt a sense of a good lesson in taking care of "life" in this. B has a few hundred dollars set aside (in my care) to fix his car. Why he has procrastinated taking care of it, I don't know. Later in the day, B showed up and had the tow truck with him to move his car to the mechanic. It was pouring rain-- and there was my son, beaming with a smile, and thanking me for the jacket. Funny how small things can bring such joy.

Wednesday morning, B was distraught. He says that the towing company messed up the driving column when the car was dragged onto the flatbed truck. B had forgotten the key to his car (typical) and he says the tow drive isn't going to be responsible for any damage. I'm not buying any of that, by the way. I mention this, because B was so upset that he said "I can't deal with this..." and he hung up.

"I can't deal with this". I thought about that, after he hung up. Isnt' that the root of B's problem? He can't deal with life.

Some people are blessed with a good life-- one that has very few struggles. They grow up in a two-parent home. They have a beautiful home, family vacations and no financial problems. I know people like that. I know parents whose kids grow up to graduate from college and who have successful jobs-- marry a nice spouse and have kids.

But, that's now my life. My parents divorced when I was 14 and I was so happy. The beatings my mother received would come to an end. My mother struggled to support my brother and I-- my oldest brother left home when I was ten years old. I left home at 18, and never returned. I chose the wrong men in my life. I married, the first time, at the age of 19 to a man 10 years older than me. Two years later, I divorced him and spent the next few years living a life that must have broken God's heart.

My life has had so many heartbreaks, setbacks and disappointments. How or why I have developed a sense of survival is something I've never questioned. It just is. I've been viewed, most of my life, as a "strong" woman. At times, I take that as an insult. I don't want to be perceived as a pushy or willful woman-- which my mother was. Truth be told, I'm strong on the outside but my feelings get hurt very easily.
I still struggle with self-esteem issues.

I see many of these characteristics with my own son. B makes friends easily. He is polite, charming and intelligent. He looks like the kind of young man a mom would want her daughter to bring home for dinner.

What my son is lacking, most, is perseverance and dependability. He is, at this time, the world's biggest flake-- in my own eyes. B shuts down in times of adversity. He procrastinates taking care of business that is important. I've been told that he's a good worker. When he is off work, he'd rather watch TV or movies, video game or just "kick it" with friends-- smoking and watching TV, movies or gaming with them. Much of this is just youth, I know.

On the other hand, it frustrates me because I'm an adult. I'm a mom. I have the maturity and wisdom to see that my son is not facing responsibility. He has allowed the trials and tribulations of his life to paralyze him.

These are all triggers to using. All I can do is to work on my mother's knee-jerk reaction to TELL my son to take care of business! It's hard. It's futile and I have to let him figure it all out.

I assume he's found a way to get to work. We have a tentative plan to meet at 1:00 today for me to drive him to the DMV to replace his lost/stolen driver's license he's been missing for three months. See what I mean? Procrastination.

There's a 50/50 change B will follow up and keep our plans, for today.

I'm off to catch up on other blogs I am following-- while you give me support, I want to reciprocate and read your stories and updates.

God is in the House-- my son's continuing drama

It amazes me how fast time flies, once you hit the 50-plus milestone in your years of living.  Last week, I began to post a series on my son's life-- and now, it's been almost a week since I've blogged here.  I've set aside comments from readers that I want to personally respond to, and I hope that I can get to them this week. My husband and I are on vacation, this week.  My school closes for one week for Fall and Spring Break, and for two weeks for Winter Break.  It's hard to believe that it was one year ago that C and I were enjoying a long-overdue honeymoon in Kauai.  That's when I blogged about my dream that my son was using again.One year ago, my son was in the tailspin of a relapse that would result in his second stay at his Treatment Center, in Northern California. That part of the story will be detailed in Part III of my son's life-- to come.

But, for this weekend, my son's drama hit another wall. B is still working at the golf course. He's working seven days a week, for a total of 56 hours a week. He is not being paid overtime, and receives no benefits. Woman of integrity that I strive to be, I know this is illegal.  It makes me mad that companies take advantage of young people who desperately need a job. I advised my son to hang on to every single pay stub. I told him that once he quits that job (or gets fired, which seems to be his lot in life) that he can go to the labor board and file a claim.  I feel that my son should not be taken advantage of, like this, but I also think companies like this should not get away with it. In the meantime, B will earn enough money, if he stays clean, to pay rent and afford the bare essentials of life. At least B is working so much, that he can't find time to use. End of soap box on that topic.

B's new hours mean that he needs to be at work at 6:30am-10:30am. He has a split shift, where he returns to work at 3:00pm and leaves at 7pm.  B asked if I could give him a ride to work 2 out of the 5 days, because his car still isn't fixed. Reluctantly, I agreed to do it. In the end, this gave me 15 minutes in the car with him to talk.

As I feared, his roommate situation is not a good one. "M" is a dark soul.  His father is an ex-con and an alcoholic. While "M" was living out-of-state with his father, B told me some terrible stories about M's life. Essentially, M and his father would drink every day and steal tools to pay for their lifestyle. Me, being someone who is shocked at that kind of lifestyle blurted out "then, why did you pick him as a roommate?!"
As soon as I asked that question, I already knew it was a stupid question. B's time was running out to find a place because he could no longer live with us. "M" got kicked out of his mom's house and the two found each other.

The Drama:

So, the drama begins on Saturday night. At 11:45pm the phone rang, and we were sound asleep. Already, most of you know how foreboding those kinds of calls are... it was B, asking me if I he could spend the night at my house. He said that M was so drunk, he was smashing the walls, vomiting in the apartment and threatening to "f--k" up my son.  I had flashbacks to his former roommate, when B lived in Benicia.  If you want to read about that drama (which is familiar with this current one, click here).  I decided to go and get him, since he's 10 minute's drive away.  I don't think C was thrilled that I got dressed and went to rescue him. It's what mother's do! B was waiting for me, in his PJ's and a bag of laundry (which I told him to bring).

B was shaken and upset.  I listened to his story and I felt so sad for my son. B said "what is wrong with me?"  Addiction and your addict friends, is what I said... I gave B the 10 second rules-- no drugs? Check. No smoking cigarettes in the house. Check. No going in and out of the house, during the night. Check. Be quiet as a mouse. Check.

I slept, sporadically, checking in on my son. He sleeps like the dead-- mouth open, snoring and very hard to wake up. I woke him up to change his laundry and returned to bed.

At 5:30am-- my first day of vacation, and waiting to sleep in-- I woke him up and drove him to work.

B said something to me that I wanted to share-- he said he slept really well in my home because it felt like a Christian home. He said he could feel that God was in the house.  I like that.

B says he's clean, now, almost three weeks. All I can do is hope he is being honest with himself.

Joshua 24:15 (New International Version)

¹⁵ But if serving the LORD seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your forefathers served beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD."

I offered to pick B up at 10:30am so he could come back, finish his laundry and nap.  We stopped at his apartment, so B could get more laundry. He showed me his bloody pillows and bedding, where M had smashed his head and passed out on it. Nice....   B said that M had called, earlier that morning, crying and saying that had no recollection of what happened.  B also tells me that M is a thief (no kidding) and he thinks that's who stole his wallet with $300.00 in it-- a few months ago. He said that M took 10 of his subs and sold them!  All I can do is listen, grit my teeth and pray silently for M. 

One year ago, B's former alcoholic roommate ended up throwing my son out of their apartment. A shot himself in the head, probably a few days later, and his body was found weeks later. 

This is the craziness of my son's life.  I try not to worry and obsess about it. My son and I had some good talks, yesterday. He said that he feels our relationship has come a long way in one year. He says he feels he tell me anything-- and he tells me everything-- because I don't lecture him or freak out. I do, but inside.

I picked B up from work, last night, with his clean bedding and laundry.  He said that he missed me, and living in our home. He hugged me and gave me a kiss on his cheek. I told him that the rest of this week that I would not be available to be his chauffeur.  B is supposed to tow his car, today, to the repair shop.

At 4am, a storm hit us-- strong winds and rain. I silently prayed that my son found a ride to work. Otherwise, he'd have to walk our miles in this weather. For a moment, I wanted to get up and go get him. Then, I gave it to God... my son must learn to find his own way. I bought my son a water-proof raincoat as an early birthday gift, yesterday. At least he has something to wear, I thought...and I drifted back to sleep.

Thank you, all of you who say you admire my courage and my strength.  I have highlighted this Psalm in my bible, because it explains where my strength comes from:

Psalm 18 (New King James Version)

¹ I love you, O LORD, my strength.

 ² The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;
       my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge.
       He is my shield and the horn ^[a] of my salvation, my stronghold.

 ³ I call to the LORD, who is worthy of praise,
       and I am saved from my enemies.

³¹ For who is God, except the LORD?
         And who is a rock, except our God?
 ³² It is God who arms me with strength,
         And makes my way perfect.
 ³³ He makes my feet like the feet of deer,
         And sets me on my high places.
 ³⁴ He teaches my hands to make war,
         So that my arms can bend a bow of bronze. 

Prayers answered and special thank you's

I believe that God, at time, allows pain in our life as a way to draw closer to Him again. That is how I am feeling, this morning.

I want to thank a few people who, faithfully, read my blog and leave such encouragement and support in prayers. If I have left you out, please forgive me. Everyone matters to me! I want to thank Madison, Prayer Girl, Barbara, Glass House Ministries for your prayers.  Angelo, thank you for commenting on my blog and sharing your own struggle with addiction. I can tell that you care about my son's welfare. I am praying for you.

I also want to thank "Dad & Mom" for leaving such an encouraging comment yesterday. In particular, "Dad" honed in on the struggle that parents/loved ones of a addict struggles with:

Your son is like my son. They only understand what they can grasp right now, whether it is using, stealing, lying, dealing or just living. Consequences are something that is "future" and we know addicts don't do future.

When they someday come to realize that all the problems stem from one common denomiator they will be motivated to change. Till then you can just stand to the side and shake your head in amazement that the answer is so easy but they just can't see get it.

Yes, that's so true.

I finally called my son-- fearing that he had been fired from his job. No, he hadn't. In fact, he was given an extra shift and will be paid overtime!  B also paid his rent and bought his suboxone. I saw him, last night. He looks good.

Praise God, and thank you!  I believe in the power of prayer. Thank you, everyone, for your support, encouragement and for sharing your stories. I'm behind in reading many of your blogs, but I have a week's vacation coming up. I'll catch up, then.

God is so good!

A Mother's instincts-- trying not to worry

One day at a time-- that is what "the program" teaches/preaches. I know this.

Still, I am struggling with not worrying about my son. "Things" have been happening with my son-- not good things. More drama, more struggles and I can see the lack of joy in my son's eyes.

As the mom of a drug addict, I feel so helpless. It pains me, most, that my son has so much drama in his life. I can't imagine what it's like to be inside his head. He's always trying to clean up his messes. Financially, he's upside down and many times it's because of his lack of follow through or planning.

My stomach is in knots. My son's new job is on the line. B told me he had a feeling he was going to be fired. He has so many other issues that he told me about. Not one of them was positive. I can only wait-- hoping that another bad phone call doesn't come. I told my son how much it hurts me when he asks me for help. I hate saying "no". His eyes are lacking that joy that I once saw. He is struggling. I like what Madison said to me-- "tough love" is really "true love". I love my son so much and I want him back.

I keep clinging to God's Word-- did you know that the bible references "fear not" 365 time? It's true. One promise for each day.

Mathew 6:34 - (The Message Version) "Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.

Father, you know my fears. You know my love for my son. Nothing is impossible for you. Nothing. You are greater than anything else, because you are my Higher Power. You are God, my Creator. Abba Father, please fill me with your loving presence that I will not give in to fear. I trust you, Lord.

My son's life then and now-- CONTINUED TO PART 2

I left off last night with--

April Fool's Day, I remember leaving our home at 5am and picking up my son from his dad's house. His cousin came with us, for moral support. My son was a mess, and he kept popping pills. I prayed the whole way there.


My son was admitted, after his intake. We prayed over him, and we drove away. B spent 30 days in detox. About 10 days into it, my son freaked out when they stopped all meds and the withdrawals really hit. My son was sick, vomiting, diahrrea, panic attacks-- you name it. Still, C and I drove up each Saturday morning to sit through 4 hours of classes on addiction. I didn't know that my son had finally resorted to smoking black tar heroin. He was freebasing, and I didn't even know people did that! I was so naive.


C and I also went to NA and AA meetings and I began to read everything that I could.


My synopsis is getting longer than I had planned. I will try, tomorrow, to finish up the story-- share what my son has told me about the horrible things that have happened to him. He's been robbed, many times. He's overdosed, he tells me. He has relapsed more times than I can count.

--------------------
Let me fill in some of the stories of my son's addiction. I am hoping that someone who is new to the world of addiction will read this. Many followers of my blog are already familiar with this story-- it might match their own...different names, different gender, different dates:

My son tells me that it was a 16 year old girl who handed my son his first Norco pills. B says that she did this to "impress guys". She stole them from her mother and grandmother. Eventually, that girl started to give B Oxycontin. He was hoooked in no time at all. By the way, B didn't pop them. He snorted them. At the time, I didn't recognize the telltale yellow stain on his white T-shirts. B tells me that comes from rubbing off the time-release coating on the Oxy pills. He would chop them up and snort it. Nice, huh?

B's addiction grew to the point that he was taking 80's (green oxies). I don't remember how much, per day. He tells me that he OD'd several times. His friends seemed to know what to do. I discovered a vial of something. When asked, my son said it was used for overdoses. I forgot the name of
it-- probably because I want to.

In our area, Oxy cost anywhere froom $25-$50.00 per pill. My son resorted to dealing oxy in order to support his habit. Now that I look back, I can see where I missed a lot of signs. B was always at "J's" house. I though the had a crush on her. It turns out she supplied the pills, B sold them and they were partners. I suspect they eventually became lovers, but I don't know for sure. Those are things I don't like to think about.

Let me stop here-- I am speaking to parents who are at the beginning of this stage. I am speaking to parents who think that their son/daughter is a good kid and that they would never do drugs. My son is a good kid! He's a great kid! He's handsome (of course I feel that way), charming, polite and very intelligent. He doesn't look like a drug addict. Still he IS a drug addict.

Oxycontin kills. It's serious stuff. It's an epidemic in this country that is out of control. It's legal, unlike heroin-- if prescribed and used the way it's prescribed. But, it's out of control and doctors prescribe it all too easily.

Parents, if you have painkillers in your house-- lock them up! Count them!
Parents, pay attention to your student's grades. If they begin to plummet, don't ask your kid why? If your kid uses the typical excuse "oh, that's an old grade, I made up the work"-- don't believe them! Contact your studen'ts teacher, and ask THEM why!. Email them. Kids lie. It's just the way it is.

(I'm getting worked up now...bear with me). I have lost count of how many parents say to me (working at a high school) that "my kid doesn't lie". Really? Does your kid have lips? Are they moving? They're lying. I see how these kids behave on campus, when they're parents aren't watching them. I see who they associate with and I think...oh boy. Sure enough, trouble comes. I see parents who are in denial, every single day!

My son's plummeting grades and high attendance problems were loud cries for help. His father simply excused them. I see this where I work all the time, too. While I'm ranting-- what's up with parents who take in their kids' friends because they got kicked out of the house? Hello? Do you believe the kid's sad story, or do you really investigate. Call Child Protective Services, for crying out loud!  Right now, a nice kid is living with his girlfriend-- he's 17 and the girl is 18. Her mom is letting them shack up! The girl is a drug dealer. Mom? Anybody home? Hello?

My son was always on his cellphone. I didn't allow it at the dinner table. I hated that stupid cellphone, but his father paid for it. Parents, if you are paying their cellphone bill take a look at the statement. Had I looked my son's cellphone, I would have seen over 100 names in it. These were B's customers. I hate text messaging. I really do. What happened to a real conversation? Kids text for drugs all the time. Read the texts! Learn how! Parents, if you suspect your kid could be using drugs, then disconnect the text messaging. I didn't have text messaging as a kid!

Another sign-- my son always had nice clothes. Lots of CDs. He had video games and he was eating in places I couldn't afford. B always had a lame excuse-- that he traded in his games for new ones. That his dad bought him shoes...that a friend gave him his new brand name shirts. My son made THOUSANDS of dollars dealing drugs. He has nothing to show for it.

My son says that a friend introduced him to smoking heroin. Oxy was too expensive for him, and heroin is cheaper to buy. B quit selling oxycontin because the police had him on their radar. It's a miracle that B never got busted. He got pulled over, several times. He got searched. But the police never found his stash. B says he had dozens of oxy pills in his possession when he got pulled over. He'd probably still be in jail, by now. B said it scared him so bad that he got out of the business.

He says that he liked smoking heroin from the first time he smoked it. There aren't any telltale signs. Not really. Sure, my son got skinny but he's always been tall and lean. I noticed that my son couldn't sleep at night, so his father got him prescription sleeping pills. My son started having panic attacks, so his dad got him klonopin. My son was, literally, a zombie.

With that came lots of drama. I will continue with that tomorrow.

Today, my heart goes out to parents and loved ones who are so new to this.
Please, learn about oxycontin! Please. I have links on my blog. Take it seriously. Please, parents, find a support group in your area. Talk to other parents. Look at links on my blog and visit other bloggers. Follow their links...the path will lead you to people who have been there, done that and are still doing it.

I'm so thankful that I was prompted (I believe, by God) to start my own blog. It first started out as a way to keep my family updated on my son's progress. Now, this is beginning to evolve in my ministry.

Yes, I am a Christian. I'm not perfect. I'm just a believer and follower in my Lord and Saviour, Jesus.. If you aren't, I still care about you. Addiction takes hostages of all socio-economic and religions or non-religions. Addiction steals our loved ones soul and they are fighting a battle that has a very strong opponent.

Parents, please educate yourself. B's father never did take the time to attend classes, let alone an NA meeting. I'm not an expert, by any means. I read and I GOOGLE as much as I can.

I know this-- my son and I have restored our relationship. I think that I finally got the message to be a "safe place" for him to come to. That is, I have learned to listen to my son's stories. They horrify me, and they break my heart. Still, my son isn't asking me for answers, most of the time. He is pouring out his heart to me, and I can only listen and pray for him. I try and give advice, but a little at a time and in 10 seconds or less. Otherwise, he'll tune me out. No lectures. Kids hate it. Watch your tone of voice. I have had to work on that. I try to keep compassion in my voice. If B senses I'm angry, he tunes me out.

Part 3-- Tales of horror from my son on gangs, robberies, overdosing and all the horrible drama that comes with addiction.  Tomorrow...

Still-- I cannot blame myself. Yes, I missed things but that's in the past. If I can reach ONE parent's heart today...tomorrow... in the future...then I am paying forward the blessings and protect that God has given me.

I must go now. It's the end of my lunch. I have typed this in the HS library, surrounded by lots of kids. Forgive any typos, grammatical mistakes. No time to proof-- and I am hitting SEND with love and prayers.

My son's life-- from beginning to now, Part One

It will be two years, this December, that my son revealed to me that he had a drug problem. Many readers-- and I appreciate each and every one of you-- might have jumped in on my story, having missed a lot of details on my journey as the mom of a drug addict.

I thought that I would try and write a synopsis-- highlighting, as truthfully as I can, who my son is:

B was born almost 21 years ago. I had been married to his father for 5 years, before I became pregnant. I had dated and lived with B's father for 4 years before we were married. I was 24 when I met B's father-- he was 34 years old.

I have blogged about this marriage. Suffice it to say, that I have owned up to my fair share of why the marriage didn't last. This story is about my son--

When B was 8 years old, his father packed up 90% of the house belongings and moved out while I was at Disneyland with my son, my brother (divorced) and his daughter. My brother ended up moving into the house, since he was looking for a new place to live.

Neither my son nor I had any foresight that this was going to happen. It was all planned out by B's father. After almost one year-- our divorce was final and I was forced to move out of the only home that B ever knew. His father and his new girlfriend (who happened to be my former employee and "friend") moved in.

I was completely broke. B's father had cleverly had me sign a Quit Claim Deed (I thought we were refinancing our home). He got the business, the house and I received zero alimony and zero child support. He had no assets, according to his attorney.

Life as a single mom was a struggle, that lasted a total of 11 years. Kids can, at times, go to the highest bidder. Life with dad was Disneyland. Life with mom was fun, but mom had no extra money for the things that kids want. In the meantime, I had found a contemporary church and I was beginning to re-learn about Christianity (I was raised as a Catholic and turned away from God for 20 years. I didn't like religion at all!) I was still not fully grasping the concept of being obedient to God, but I was beginning to find love and acceptance as I grew closer to knowing who Jesus is. My son also enjoyed the youth ministry and he willingly asked to be baptized.

Fast forward to my son being diagnose with diabetes at the age of 12. Not too long after that my son met a kid I shall call "MG". His mother was a meth addict, his father an alcoholic and those two were embroiled in a bitter divorce. I didn't want my son hanging out with MG, but we all know that kids will find a way to be together. When my son turned 13, I felt as though I didn't know him. Naturally, we began to lock horns. Me, being stressed out over finances-- well, I wasn't the pillar of patience, to say the least. My son would move in with his dad, when he couldn't get his way with me. His father would criticize how I raised our son...yadda, yadda, yadda.

When B was 14 years old, he broke his wrist. It was a nasty break, and I remember being in the emergency room. The doctors gave my son the maximum dosage of morphine, but B kept saying he didn't feel anything. B was prescribed vicodin. Little did I know that this prescription would ultimately trigger his brain's love of opiates. Years later, my son told me that he went through that bottle in 2 days.

High School was "interesting". My son, and his friends, would hang out at our home. I'd try my best to be the "nice" mom, allowing my son to invite a friend over for dinner. My own mother never allowed that, so I wanted to give my son what I didn't have.

I played by all the "good parent" rules. Curfews. Dinner at the table, no television and we'd talk. I always wanted to meet the parents of my son's friends.
My son had to check in with me, and he always did. He played the rules just fine.

In his sophomore year, he was busted cutting school with MG. I found out that MG's mom had picked them up from school and called in my son's absence as "me". My son admitted, to me, that he had smoked weed. His father picked him up, and said he'd deal with it.

For the rest of high school, my son bounced back and forth from dad's to mom's house. I was the Anti-Christ, and his dad was the cool guy.

I knew that my son was headed down a bad road, when his 3.0 GPA began to plummet down to a 1.5 GPA. My son began to miss a lot of school, and his dad always excused his absences. Once B got his first car (a used truck) he became scarcer at home. His father said he was just being a kid. I began to worry, but I was helpless.

I can honestly say that I rarely let my son know if I was dating someone. My son NEVER saw a man sleeping in my bed. I made sure of that (thank you, Dr. Laura Schlessinger). My relationship with my son was rocky, to say the least.

My son missed graduation by ten credits. In hindsight, I wish I knew then what I know now-- working at a high school in the counseling office. Now I can clearly see how I should have been more vigilant about my son's absences and poor grades. My son started using vicodin, then Norcos and then Oxycontin when he was 16 years old. He tells me, that I had searched his bedroom closet better, I would have found the weed, baggies and scale -- clearly showing that my son was selling weed in middle school. I had no idea, and I never suspected a thing. I always wondered how my son afforded new shoes or video games. He always said his dad bought them.

B finally finished up his credits 6 months after his class graduated and he got his diploma. I nagged him to death about it.

In January 2006, I married my husband "C". When we returned from our honeymoon, my son said he needed to talk to me. He told me he was using Oxycontin and that he owed some bad people money, or they would hurt them. Stupid me. I had never even heard of oxycontin. I paid the debt for him, and took it out of his trust fund.

Here's what I so regret-- I never took the time to learn what Oxycontin was all about! I didn't even know that blogs existed on this topic. I thought my son simply "quit" and all was good...

My son was living at his father's house. "Dad" really didn't have rules or curfews.
Then, in March 2008, my son told me that he was in deep trouble. That's when he told me his addiction to Oxycontin had gotten worse. I was beside myself. His father was beside himself.

I remember, vividly, seeing what a mess my son was. He was working at a golf resort and messing up, big time. He got fired less than two months into the job. He had spent every penny and was overdrawn by hundreds of dollars. His father paid all the debt and I was distraught over what was happening.

By the grace of God-- and I mean that-- I was led to a drug rehab center in my hometown. They didn't take our insurance, and I could not afford the $8000.00 they wanted for detox. The woman, however, handed me a phone number. It was a drug treatment center two hours north of here. Right then and there, I dialed the number from my cellphone and prayed. Yes, they took our insurance. Yes, they had ONE bed available.

I called the phone number someone had given me that same day. They said this man was an excellent drug counselor/intervention counselor. The man answered the phone, and said he could see my son that night.

I went back to work, and B's father called me. He said that B was having health problems and freaking out. I had no idea what to do. My boss took one look at me, and said "go!"

I remember calling B and telling him he had an appointment at 5pm. My son agreed to go, and one hour later he said he wanted to get help.

April Fool's Day, I remember leaving our home at 5am and picking up my son from his dad's house. His cousin came with us, for moral support. My son was a mess, and he kept popping pills. I prayed the whole way there.

My son was admitted, after his intake. We prayed over him, and we drove away. B spent 30 days in detox. About 10 days into it, my son freaked out when they stopped all meds and the withdrawals really hit. My son was sick, vomiting, diahrrea, panic attacks-- you name it. Still, C and I drove up each Saturday morning to sit through 4 hours of classes on addiction. I didn't know that my son had finally resorted to smoking black tar heroin. He was freebasing, and I didn't even know people did that! I was so naive.

C and I also went to NA and AA meetings and I began to read everything that I could.

My synopsis is getting longer than I had planned. I will try, tomorrow, to finish up the story-- share what my son has told me about the horrible things that have happened to him. He's been robbed, many times. He's overdosed, he tells me. He has relapsed more times than I can count.

To be continued--

That plea for help and my having to say no...that hurts me so much

I had a different posting that I meant to publish a few days ago. Then, life got in the way. Now, that one is on hold.

My son called me yesterday. He wanted to know if I would buy his suboxone, anxiety meds and Ambien and he'd pay me back on payday-- on the 5th of the month. Each prescription costs $40.00 I hate being asked to do that, and I was crazy busy at work. I said I'd have to talk to him tomorrow (which is now today...Saturday).

B just called, and he sounded like he just woke up. He said he couldn't sleep because his roommate watched a movie all night and B sleeps in the living room-- he is sharing a one bedroom studio with a "friend" named "M". B asked if I'd give him a ride to work, which I am happy to do.

He called, later, to say he had a ride to work...but would I at least buy the suboxone. I asked about the methadone he said he'd bought from someone. He said something like "it's junk". I'm not sure what that really means, and I really don't want to know.

This was so hard for me-- I reminded B that I agreed to buy his diabetes insulin and supplies. I reminded him that I said I would no longer buy his addiction meds and that I did the math-- no way, after paying rent, could be afford to repay me.

He wailed "I don't know what to do if I don't have any suboxone!". I said nothing. I just told him that it hurts me when he asks for money. I hate saying no, but I must.

He started to cry, dammit. I hate that. For a mom, that hurts to much to imagine their child in pain.

Addiction sucks. Tough Love sucks. I hate this.

I know I did the only thing I SHOULD do-- my son must learn how to face life. His father (and I) didn't do my son any favors by always bailing him out when he was in need.

B is getting his first taste of mom meaning that he must learn to manage his addiction and life on his own.

I'm so sad. But, this is what his treatment center said that we must do. We were told that addicts will use any way of manipulating help from us-- especially guilt. My son has no life coping skills-- absolutely none. It pains me to think that he's withdrawing, but I must remember-- my son does have an option. He can find a facility that will help him with this. He has medical insurance.

I pray that my son will hate the withdrawals enough to realize that every time he uses, his brain will reset the detox clock back to zero. He's caught up in a viscious cycle. I need to brace myself-- either my son will reach the bottom that it takes to admit that he has to fight this need to use. Or...

Well, I already know what the other options are. They're not pretty.

I'm going to a Women's Bible Study luncheon today, at my church. I know that God has heard many prayers for my son-- from people like you and loved ones. I just pray that my son will turn to God, and ask for help. It's there. He just needs to admit that he can't do this on his own.

I did it. But it doesn't mean I like saying "no"-- especially when I can afford it.