A mother's reaction to a dangerous situation

A mother's instinct to protect her child can sometimes become so overpowering, that nothing else matters.

I have been so good about setting and keeping boundaries with my son. But there comes a time, when everything I learned flies right out the window.

I debated on sharing with all of you what has happened within the last 48 hours. Undoubtedly, once I post this, there will be parents of addicts who will shake their heads at me. There are parents who have been ripped off by their addict children, and who have become hardened against addicts ploys for money. I can understand why so many parents have pretty much flipped on the "I'm not enabling my addict's addiction anymore" switch. They do this, to preserve their own sanity. I understand this, completely.

My story is the truth:

My name is Debby, and my son is an addict. My son has been addicted to smoking heroin since, at least, April 2008. He started with oxycontin in 2005, and his brain finally morphed into liking "black". My son is an addict. He doesn't deny it.

OK, I'll cut to the chase--

My son admits that he is "chipping". He smokes some "black" and then uses suboxone to help curb the withdrawals.

Once again, my son got himself into another mess. This is round #3. A mother knows these things. The last few weekends, I have picked up B from his job. We swing by his apartment so that he can gather his laundry. He comes to my house, and does his own laundry. He eats dinner with us. It's an opportunity for my son to visit with us, and it's good.

Saturday, I could tell that my son was really wound up tight. His cellphone kept buzzing. He'd go outside and (this time) I didn't try to snoop. B doesn't live with me, so I figure he needs to deal with his own stuff.

B looked pale and very distracted. I asked him "what's wrong", when my husband wasn't in the room. B didn't want to tell me. I kept urging him to tell me. He wouldn't.

Finally, he told me that his roommate called and that there was a car outside the apartment. It was my son's dealer.
B let me listen to a voice mail. They were threatening my son.

Many parents, at this point, would think "Too bad. He got himself into this mess, and that's the way it is.

I can't do that. Maybe I haven't grown a thick enough skin. My son hasn't been in jail. Except for $40.00, just recently, he has never stolen from me.

B asked me to drop him off away from his apartment. He didn't want me to be in any danger. B called the dealer on speaker phone, and I could hear the conversation.

"Tomorrow, a very heavy Mexican accent said". The call ended.

I dropped off B, where his roommate waited to escort him back to the apartment.

I didn't sleep well. I kept waking and praying for my son. Stress makes his blood sugars soar, which is dangerous for a diabetic.

Monday afternoon, B called me very distraught. He was sobbing.

"Pray for me, mom. Please!"

We prayed together, and my son asked God to forgive him and to help him.

I went into a private room at work, and called B right back.
He told me that the dealer found B, as his friend was giving him a ride to work. The car cut in front of them, and the dealer pointed his hand as though it was a gun. He threatened to show up at B's work if he didn't pay up. Today.

I called B's friend. The story matched. This is the one friend that B has, who doesn't use.

I picked B up at his job, all the while I prayed and asked God for wisdom.

I made up my mind. I gave Brian the money. It wasn't a lot. I listened to the dealer say $150.00.

B pleaded that he only owed $100.00. The dealer said "we want interest." Finally, the dealer say, $120.00 and we are cutting you off.

Thank you, Jesus.

Before anyone judges or criticizes me, please know that I had some important dialog with my son, in the parking lot of his job. I asked my son, why?

B tells me-- and I believe him-- that he doesn't want to use to get high. He says he can't take the withdrawals.

We talked about so much, that I can't blog it all. In a way I don't want to. Not now. Our talk was deep. My son has BS'd me many times. I knew, deep in my soul, that my son is desperately wanting to find sobriety. My son said that he has reached bottom, at last.

Has he?

My son called the dealer and arranged a meeting. I went home to change clothes and to eat a fast bite of dinner. B called and said he wanted to go to an NA meeting. I picked him up.

"Mom, I need to stand up tonight. I want to say, I'm B and I'm an addict. I can't stay clean. I'm desperate. I need a sponsor".

Both B and his roommate were waiting for me. "M" has been sober for a week. He has never been to an NA meeting and wants to support my son.

I said to "M, "I want you to know that I have never hated you "M". Like it or not, I have been praying for you like crazy."

"It's working", he said. I'm sober. I want to clean up my life.

My son will pay me back. He is writing a life plan for me, as part of the deal for my helping him. We are not done. Tomorrow night, B will go with me to a Celebrate Recovery meeting. B wants to return to church. He says he wants to reconnect with Jesus.

I spoke with B right before I went to bed. He said he feels better, having gone to a meeting. He apologized over and over again, to me.  

The hardest part for me was telling my husband what I had done. C wasn't happy with me. He reminded me that I promised I'd never help him get out of his mess.

I did just that. I broke that promise. I was afraid my husband couldn't forgive me.
He was upset, but I had to tell him what I had done. I can't lie to him. I love him too much.

I still feel that I did what a mother has to do. If anyone wants to tell me that I'm a fool, then I will take it. I cannot live with myself, knowing that my son could have been beaten, stabbed or shot over $120.00. I believe that B will pay it back.

My husband hugged me this morning. I think he understands that I love him too much to lie to him. I didn't ask my husband for permission, but I was purely in mother protective mode. I was scared for my son. He was sobbing at a level that tore my heart. My son isn't evil. He's an addict.

For the love of God, please understand that I know that my son needs a one-year program. It isn't in the cards, right now. I'm too weary to list them, because if you've been following my blog I've written about them over and over again.

So, you see-- I'm as human as everyone else. The strength I've been told I have only goes so far. If my son was to end up in jail, or dead-- well, it's something I hope I never have to experience.  I reacted to pure panic over my son's safety.

Today is a new day. I have searched my soul and I feel that what I did carries no guilt in me. I can only pray that my son will remember the fear and that he will finally make the phone calls, today, that we talked about.

I welcome any and all comments about this. Be honest, because I want this blog to be a place where we can share our true thoughts.  My feelings get hurt, but it makes me stronger. I chose to share this moment in my life with you, because maybe there's another mother just like me-- who reacts this way.

Thank you for your prayers. Please pray that my son will stay with NA, that he will get a good sponsor and that he will finally work hard-- the odds are not in his favor-- to find sobriety and keep it.