One more "new" mom of a drug addict, and a brief check-in and thank you

I was thinking about Lou's comment, that she'd like to see me share something about me-- something positive and encouraging.
I agree, so I wanted to wait until I had something to share.

Actually, in a way, I had two good day's news from my son. I gave him a ride to work on Saturday and Sunday. We didn't talk about drugs. B seemed happy, mentioned he's slowly getting more work hours back. He talked about the meals he's learning to cook, and it almost felt "normal". He never, once, asked me for money.

Monday, B asked if I'd please give him a ride home. I was tired, and had decided to grab food to eat. This is highly unusual for me, since I'm Martha Stewart in the kitchen, and enjoy homecooking over any kind of fast food joint. This time, I told B I'd take him to his favorite fast food place. He was so excited to eat a good meal, that he can't afford to buy. He was sweet and loving, and very appreciative.

Today, I lost it. I lost it over something unrelated to my son. There is a student who was caught stealing liquor from a grocery store. He was busted with stolen contraband, on campus, and foils with heroin residue were found. This kid has always flown under the radar with me. He's a nice kid.

The Police were here, the mother was here, and I am to begin processing this student's paperwork to check out of our school. I know the story, but I am bound to confidentiality. I locked eyes with that mother, and she reminded me of myself. She looked like a typical mom, professionally dressed, poised...and we locked eyes. I wanted to run up to her and hug her. I wanted to tell her that I am one of "them"-- the heartbroken mom of a heroin addict. I wanted to tell her that I have walked that road, 18 months ago-- a journey that she is just now beginning.

I was frozen in time-- looking at this woman, who was waiting for a teacher to come and have a conference with her. I had to walk away, because I didn't want to risk being disciplined for talking about a matter that is highly confidential.

I broke down crying, alone, in my break room. My heart broke for all the mothers who have to deal with this pain. It's hard to explain to anyone, who hasn't been there, what it's like to see your child in full withdrawals. I saw it, this morning. You see, my son is trying to not use. He has been going to meetings. He is out of methadone, and must wait until Thursday for his first intake. He's made the decision to do a 30-day methadone outpatient clinic.Suboxone, he says, doesn't help anymore. My son has freebased "black" for five years. His brain is pretty messed up from the level that he was using. It was said, at my son's treatment clinic, that when an addict relapses, their brain picks up where it left off. A little heroin won't work. It's a sad and cruel price to pay.

But, this morning, he called me because he was scared and hurting. He said he hasn't used and he doesn't want to, but the withdrawals are getting worse. I believe him. I bought him a breakfast meal, and I drove off to work in prayer for my son. He is trying and I pray that he gets the help that he needs.

I thought I was handling things fine, until I saw that mom.
She doesn't know why I was looking at her. Maybe she thought I was judging her.

Lord, how I pray for the moms in this world who have children who are addicted to drugs. We try to be strong, Father. But, sometimes, we can't hold ourselves up anymore. I pray for that mother, Heavenly Father. I pray for the student. May they find the right path to sobriety, understanding and redemption.

That's all I have to say, for now. Thank you, for your private emails and comments. I didn't mean to ignore any of you. I'm not the least bit upset by all the comments. Not at all. I just need to digest things and sort through them. Ultimately, I trust my own common sense to do what is right-- and my faith.

I am longing to find one weekend, where there isn't a crisis that forces me to make choices that hurt.