The walls begin to close in... maybe?

I read all of your comments, yesterday, like a blubbering fool. I guess it's so obvious how much I love my son.  I know I'm not alone in that. He will always be that child that I so desperately wanted to have. Even as a young man, struggling for sobriety, I have no regrets that he is my son. I see the goodness in him, that has been clouded by his addiction to opiates.

I woke up at 1AM, thinking of my son-- of course.

Maybe the "bottom" is hitting him? He's unemployed and is going to be very limited on what jobs he can apply for. He won't pass a UA test. I asked one of the police officers at my school campus. Yes, they confirm, methadone will test positive. With unemployment rates making headlines, my son needs a miracle.

Or, maybe this is the miracle of God's work? 

Last night, I spoke with B. He spent the entire day filing for unemployment. I had to stifle a laugh when he described the Social Services building as a "total zoo" and that he never wants to walk in there again, for the rest of his life!"

Yeah, me too.

B sounded so remorseful for the bounced checks he owes. All of his last paycheck has gone to pay them back. In a way, I felt a ray of hope, when B said that "all of this was when he was strung out again, wanting to use".  I could hear a true regret in his voice.  He says he feels so stupid for believing his former roommate (M's) advice to just write a back check, get his drugs, and pay it back on payday.  He didn't count on how high the fees would be from both the bank and the grocery store.  He also said that the grocery store told him he could have been arrested for writing bad checks.  B sounded so surprised.

Yep, it's a crime, B. That's check fraud.

He was silent.

At times like this, it takes a lot of effort to not lecture my son. He gets it, now. The harsh reality of how his drug addiction has bled him dry, has really begun to sink in. I FEEL it. 

He started to ask me something, then his voice trailed off...

What? I asked.

He's out of milk and low on food.  I had to tell him I can't help him-- dammit, that's hard.

B did apply for food stamps. IF he qualifies, the maximum he'll get is $200.00 a month.  Actually, I could live on that, but I am an advanced cook. 

It looks like medical is a no-go, for my son.  I'm beginning to worry about how he's going to afford his insulin in about 3 months. I have stockpiled his supplies from the last of his health insurance.  For the first time, I looked at the retail value of his supplies. Wow!  One bottle of Lantus insulin is $199.00 and one box of his Humalog flex pens costs $200.00-- and he was getting three boxes for $40.00 on his insurance!
So, for $300.00 we got about $2000.00 worth of diabetes supplies. It's shocking.  His premius will go up to $800.00 a month-- and we cannot afford that.

As I lay in bed, wide awake in those early hours, my heart grieved for my son.  No matter what choices my son made, I believe that my son never considered the consequences. That only make sense. What addict makes a conscious choice to live that kind of life?  I think of my son's brain, and the damage done. I think of my son's lungs, from smoking black tar heroin and cigarettes. I think of his kidneys and his eyes, that are being damaged from not taking care of his diabetes.

Then, I see my sweet baby boy, and my heart feels so sad. As I type this, I can feel the tears coming again. 

I remembered a saying I once heard--

When you can't sleep, don't count sheep. Talk to the shepherd. So, I asked God to help me let go of my worries and that he would take them into his own precious hands.  I drifted back to sleep until the alarm went off at 5:15am. I woke up feeling warm & toasty, with my husband sleeping next to me.  It makes me count my blessings, as people in my own hometown are homeless and cold. I don't want that for my son!

This morning, I prayed that my son would feel HOPE today.  I thought of "Alex" (from Dad & Mom), and how he refers to our world as being cruel.  Then, I thought of my son, and all the bad things that have happened to him in his short life as an adult.  I thought of my son's friends-- many whom I've known since they were in the 6th grade.  Some have gone on to be graduating from college. Some have found sobriety. Other shave been incarcerated, while some are currently in rehab. I recall a few of my son's stories of being robbed at gunpoint, threatened, being carjacked and ripped off... I can't dwell on that too much, because I see my baby boy being hurt. Moms don't like to think of that. It breaks our hearts.

Where will my son end up?

The hardest part, as a loving mom of an addict, is that we are wired to be compassionate. Men, on the other hand, view things much differently. I see it in how Ron writes (Dad & Mom).  He is the male voice of common sense. While I think I have common sense, I am still a mom-- who carried this child in my womb and who raised him from the moment he came into this world.

I live in a good world, because I see the goodness in it. I don't associate with "bad people"-- criminals.  I value the friends that I have because they are good and honest and hardworking people.  I have the most wonderful and loving husband in the world. I adore him. He's honest, hardworking and I trust him, implicitly.  I love my friends and my two brothers.

I want that for my son, more than anything. I want for my son to stop seeing the darkness and evil that's in this world. Satan is at the head of that table-- he lies, he deceives and he doesn't want to let my son go.

I pray that my son will feel God's presence in him and be filled with hope. Only a God loving person can understand exactly what I am saying. It is when my world has been battered by the storms of life, that I know I can cling to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, who is my rock and my salvation.

I prayed for so many of you-- each person who has left comments-- Madison, Dawn, Barbara, Chai, Cheri, Lisa C...oh, so many of you!  You are all in my thoughts. You understand what I'm going through. We're all in this together, at different stages.

I left my son a voice mail, this morning. I just told him that I love him, and that I'd like to have him over for dinner tonight. I'm hoping we can print the forms he needs and help him to get through the red tape process of filing for assistance.  I'd like to encourage him to apply for a one-year program. This could take a while.

Now, if I could just get into the festive spirit of Christmas.  I can't stand all that commercialism, buying presents (we only pay cash) and decorating.  I feel the spirit of Christmas as a religious holiday. That's what it is, and it saddens me to see how many people forget that it's "Christ-mas" and not Happy Holidays.

I'm going to try, this weekend. I have this fantasy of B coming over and helping to put up the tree ... but, sometimes these things don't happen. We shall see.
I also pray that my son will go to a meeting and keep applying for jobs. It's tough, but he can't give up.

I won't.