I know that my last blog was very long. I have come to realize that "blogging" is a high-tech way to journal. Journaling is therapeutic. At least, for me, it is.
So, today I am feeling peace in my life. I want to be optimistic that my son has everything he needs to learn how to live on his own. He has a full-time job. He has a new place to live. He has a car. He also has a few things that many people don't have-- he has health insurance (that we pay for) and he has car insurance (that his father pays for... and I have no say in that one).
Is my son using? That's the million dollar question. I have to say "I hope not". My son failed a drug test. Why is something that is between B and God. I've heard it all before-- I've heard my son swear he's clean many times before he went into a treatment center. Since he was discharged, at the end of April, I can only gage his sobriety by his behavior.
Before his detox, my son was highly irresponsible. Telltale signs that something was amiss was his body. He stands tall at 6'3 and is already pretty thin. B grew very thin when he was using. His eyes were dialated, and sometimes they were barely open. He always had dry-mouth.
B couldn't sit still for long-- his knees would shake up and down, like a nervous twitch. The most frustrating part was that I could not understand my son. He spoke fast, and I felt like he was speaking a foreign language. B was always begging for money, and he was always broke. I noticed that his laptop was gone. He sold anything that he owned to buy drugs.
The worst part of my son's addiction was that the two of us butted heads all the time. He was sweet and charming when he needed money. Otherwise, he wouldn't answer his phone or he'd get mad at me when I'd say "no" to him.
Today, I don't see that kind of behavior. What I see in my son is laughter again. His eyes are bright and alive again. He eats me out of house and home, when he comes to visit.
Yeah, he's still irresponsible-- but he's also a nineteen year old kid who lost two years of his life to drugs. He's also a kid whose parents divorced when he was seven. It didn't take long for my son to learn that two different households had two different rules. The end result, is that my teenager perfected the art of manipulation.
A teenager who is also a drug addict-- what a combination!
I am hopeful that my son and I are rebuilding a relationship of trust that has been broken between us. There is a long road ahead for my son-- he is walking a very brittle line between sobriety and the "call" of drugs.
In a very small way, I can understand how difficult it is to fight addiction. I am addicted to sugar. When I'm feeling stressed (or occasionally bored), my brain starts telling me that a nice big chocolate bar would taste so good. If I give in to that craving, the worst damage I've done is to my waist and my scale. For my son, giving in to his brain calling out for an opiate "high" would potentially put him back into a tailspin of drug addiction.
I need to focus on being the kind of mother who is a safe and supportive person he can turn to when he is feeling "lost". I feel so bad that my son has to grow up so fast, without the life skills he needs. This is not what I had planned for him-- I had hopes and dreams that he'd go to college and be the first college graduate in my family tree.
He is the greatest gift I've been given. I will never give up on him. He has the charm, intelligence and a group of supportive friends and family. I only wish that he would understand how much he needs to find a sponsor and to work the 12-Steps. He needs to look to his higher power to help him fight the urges to "use" when he feels overwhelmed.
My son is a believer in Jesus Christ. Is he following him right now? I can only pray for him every single day.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Phone calls in the middle of the night...
When I first started this blog, five months ago, my purpose was to find a way to update my family and friends on how my son is doing. This blog started to evolve into my own "ministry" about drug addiction. I was surprised at how many "hits" I was getting from total strangers.
I don't know what happened, but I began to avoid logging on to blog. I think I know why, now:
Subconsciously, I think that I allowed myself to think that my son is fully recovered.
That is dangerous thinking, I know. But, I think, that' s why this blog didn't see like such a vital ministry anymore.
I was wrong. I don't even know where to begin to bring anyone up-to-date on how my son is doing. I wish that there was a "quick" update, but it's long. I apologize for the length of this, in advance--
My son started a new job on August 28th. He is working for a racing team as a "glorified gopher". Of course, that's my own definition of it. B seems to love his job, because the hours are long and it's hard work. He's having to load the race car transporter and to be at the beck and call of the race team. He loves being in the race pit, and all the excitement that goes with it.
Now, that's the good news. The rest of the blanks have stressed me to no end. My son's life seems to be filled with so much drama. How can my son feel any kind of peace in his life?
Last Wednesday, my phone rang at 1:15am. It was my son, sounding pretty shaken. He told me that he had returned to his apartment (B had been staying at his dad's house for a week) in Benicia. He said that his roommate "A", began pounding on his bedroom door and then bolted into the room. "A" was very drunk (my son had found empty beer bottles in the kitchen). "A" started yelling at him and then "A" left in his car.
As a mom, let me say that this is very upsetting. I cannot bear the thought of anyone threatening my son. My maternal instincts kick into high gear-- I become "Mama Bear" who wants to protect her cub. I told my son to call the police, if "A" returned. I was thankful that my son had given 30-days notice to leave that apartment-- and that was coming up in a few days. The relationship between my son and his roommate had deteriorated-- mostly because "A" was drinking again. The 30-day notice would expire in four days. Of course, I could not sleep for the rest of the night. So, I logged on to Craig's List and looked for places for my son to rent. That's where I spotted a Sober Living Environment in my son's hometown and another room for rent. I decided to contact these places at a decent hour-- it was 3:30am before I went back to bed. I couldn't sleep, though, worrying that my son was in danger.
Each evening, my son would check in with me-- after working 12-14 hour days. There was no word from "A". He was missing in action. My guess was that he checked into a motel to drink. Unfortunately, that's not uncommon for addicts to do. I began to toss and turn at night, with worry. Yes, I was praying. Yes, I know that when I give my worries to God, I need to trust in Him. But, I couldn't stop worrying about my son. It's a mother's curse.
Three days later, my husband and I drove to Benicia in the morning-- it was Labor Day Weekend. I wanted to preview the Sober Living Environment that I had found. I had spoken with the people who ran this SLE and told them the situation. They were so accommodating, and supportive and wanting my son to become a resident. I was so hopeful that my son would move into this SLE. I still believe that an addict, who is serious about their recovery, should live in an SLE for at least a year. If an SLE is well-run, residents will be randomly drug-tested and will be required to attend 12-step meetings. That's what I found at the SLE that I visited-- I found that the house manager would have been the perfect "fit" for my son. It was a lovely home, that I would have lived in myself.
I had promised my son one more month's rent (from his trust account) but that would be the end of the help to get him on his feet. It has been five months, since my son was admitted into a treatment center for his addiction to oxy-contin. So, I wrote the rent check to the SLE and my heart was feeling so hopeful and relieved.
I don't think that I'm an enabler. I say this, because I decided to pack my son's apartment that day, while he was working. Yes, that sounds like I was enabling him... my logic was that my son was in possible danger. I wanted to get him out of the apartment, and we were there with my Jeep. My husband worked, hard, loading things down the stairs and into my Jeep. I packed up the things I had given or bought for my son, from the kitchen. It was stressful, because my husband was not happy about what we were doing. The tension between us started to thicken-- that's unusual, because we get along so well.
I felt, in my heart, that there was no choice. My son could not call in "sick" because he started the job two days earlier. I wanted my son out of that apartment and far away from "A".
B finally got off work five hours after we had arrived. We took him to see the SLE and to meet the house manager. We had already moved B's things into the SLE-- and then disaster happened.
My son failed the drug test. There it was-- a "positive" for opiates.
My heart sank, and I wanted to cry. I didn't, and I kept a strong facade that I was going to let my son deal with the consequences. I won't even get into the "why". B swears that he was taking a prescribed narcotic for the back injury he suffered from his car accident. No matter what, an SLE cannot allow anyone to be a resident if their test comes up "dirty". The house manager returned my checks. I could tell that he felt really bad, but I knew that this is how things had to be. B was really upset and I could see he was starting to stress.
So, we loaded up his things again and returned to the apartment. I drove home, feeling discouraged, afraid, disappointed and just plain worried about my son. Over and over, in my head, I kept rehearsing all of the events in my son's life since he was admitted into treatment.
I realized that my son's five months of sobriety was now returned to Day One. The odometer had rolled back...and I wondered if my son realized this.
I could not sleep at night-- I'd wake up at 3:00am, wondering when "A" would return. I wanted my son out of that apartment, but he had nowhere to go. My best friend would not let him stay at their house, since he had tested positive. I would not call my son-- I had to let him figure things out.
Still, I could feel my body feeling exhausted and stressed. I could not meddle. B's father asked me to plead with the SLE, but I told him that I was not going to interfere. This would be my son's mess to clean up.
Tuesday morning, on my way out the door to work, the phone rang. It was my son-- "A" had returned, and had bolted into his room and threatened him to get the "f" out of his apartment. He literally threw my son out the door. What could I do? I prayed and I drove to work. My head was spinning.
I had to focus on my job. I could not share with anyone what was going on in my personal life. I have a job to do, people who are depending on me to do it-- and I could not let my personal problems affect my quality of work. With that said, B's father drove up get my son's belongings out of the apartment. They had to call the police, because "A" had changed the locks.
My son is out of that apartment, and I feel sorry for "A". When I met "A" he had been sober for... I don't know! At least 30-days, but... He is lost-- "A" has been through three rehabs, has done time in prison, and he is lost to his addiction...
So, for two nights, B has spent the last of his money staying at a Motel 6. I know that this is Life Skills 101 for him, and at least I felt he was "safe". I could finally sleep through the night.
Last night, my son called to say that he met with the man who was renting a room at a condo. I had found this condo on Craig's List, too. B was accepted to move in to this place. I don't know what to say-- this man is in his late 50's and he has a 20 year old son (who doesn't live there). I told my son that if he did not move into an SLE, that he cannot ask me for anymore help. If he loses his job, or mismanages his money, he is on his own. I mean it.
This morning, B's father is on the way to pick up B's belonging that are in storage at my best friend's garage. I have given my son his last rent check help from his trust account.
B slept in his car, last night. Again, this is good character building, I hope. Of course, I worried about him being safe.
So, here we are-- a new home for my son... this will be his four new place in five months.
I can only say that I pray that this new home is part of God's plan for him. I pray that this new roommate is going to be sober, safe and sane.
What would make me happy is for my son to have joy in his life. Being "happy", to me is too worldly. Having money makes us happy. Having "fun" makes us happy. But "happy" can be short-lived.
I pray that my son will discovered the wonderful feeling of "peace" and "joy" that only the Lord can give us. I say this, from experience. In my deepest part of my heart-- my spirit, my soul... I believe that only my Lord, Jesus Christ, can fill me with "peace" and "joy".
Even when times are troubled, when I feel afraid or worried-- I know that when I become quiet and still enough, that I can receive "peace" and "joy" from my Heavenly father-- because He will never forsake me.
That is His promise. Despite all the stress that my son puts me through, I can draw on that "peace and joy" and feel thankful for all that I have.
Right now, I pray for peace and joy in my son's life. Where his sobriety is now ...who knows... I pray that my son will find calm in the storms of his life.
I continue to pray for those who are addicted to drugs and alcohol. They need to "work" the program for the rest of their lives. There is no cure for addiction.
I need to remind myself that my son IS an addict, and he always will be. He will always struggle with wanting to "use". His battle is still waging on, and I need to be careful that I don't think that it's over.
It isn't.
I don't know what happened, but I began to avoid logging on to blog. I think I know why, now:
Subconsciously, I think that I allowed myself to think that my son is fully recovered.
That is dangerous thinking, I know. But, I think, that' s why this blog didn't see like such a vital ministry anymore.
I was wrong. I don't even know where to begin to bring anyone up-to-date on how my son is doing. I wish that there was a "quick" update, but it's long. I apologize for the length of this, in advance--
My son started a new job on August 28th. He is working for a racing team as a "glorified gopher". Of course, that's my own definition of it. B seems to love his job, because the hours are long and it's hard work. He's having to load the race car transporter and to be at the beck and call of the race team. He loves being in the race pit, and all the excitement that goes with it.
Now, that's the good news. The rest of the blanks have stressed me to no end. My son's life seems to be filled with so much drama. How can my son feel any kind of peace in his life?
Last Wednesday, my phone rang at 1:15am. It was my son, sounding pretty shaken. He told me that he had returned to his apartment (B had been staying at his dad's house for a week) in Benicia. He said that his roommate "A", began pounding on his bedroom door and then bolted into the room. "A" was very drunk (my son had found empty beer bottles in the kitchen). "A" started yelling at him and then "A" left in his car.
As a mom, let me say that this is very upsetting. I cannot bear the thought of anyone threatening my son. My maternal instincts kick into high gear-- I become "Mama Bear" who wants to protect her cub. I told my son to call the police, if "A" returned. I was thankful that my son had given 30-days notice to leave that apartment-- and that was coming up in a few days. The relationship between my son and his roommate had deteriorated-- mostly because "A" was drinking again. The 30-day notice would expire in four days. Of course, I could not sleep for the rest of the night. So, I logged on to Craig's List and looked for places for my son to rent. That's where I spotted a Sober Living Environment in my son's hometown and another room for rent. I decided to contact these places at a decent hour-- it was 3:30am before I went back to bed. I couldn't sleep, though, worrying that my son was in danger.
Each evening, my son would check in with me-- after working 12-14 hour days. There was no word from "A". He was missing in action. My guess was that he checked into a motel to drink. Unfortunately, that's not uncommon for addicts to do. I began to toss and turn at night, with worry. Yes, I was praying. Yes, I know that when I give my worries to God, I need to trust in Him. But, I couldn't stop worrying about my son. It's a mother's curse.
Three days later, my husband and I drove to Benicia in the morning-- it was Labor Day Weekend. I wanted to preview the Sober Living Environment that I had found. I had spoken with the people who ran this SLE and told them the situation. They were so accommodating, and supportive and wanting my son to become a resident. I was so hopeful that my son would move into this SLE. I still believe that an addict, who is serious about their recovery, should live in an SLE for at least a year. If an SLE is well-run, residents will be randomly drug-tested and will be required to attend 12-step meetings. That's what I found at the SLE that I visited-- I found that the house manager would have been the perfect "fit" for my son. It was a lovely home, that I would have lived in myself.
I had promised my son one more month's rent (from his trust account) but that would be the end of the help to get him on his feet. It has been five months, since my son was admitted into a treatment center for his addiction to oxy-contin. So, I wrote the rent check to the SLE and my heart was feeling so hopeful and relieved.
I don't think that I'm an enabler. I say this, because I decided to pack my son's apartment that day, while he was working. Yes, that sounds like I was enabling him... my logic was that my son was in possible danger. I wanted to get him out of the apartment, and we were there with my Jeep. My husband worked, hard, loading things down the stairs and into my Jeep. I packed up the things I had given or bought for my son, from the kitchen. It was stressful, because my husband was not happy about what we were doing. The tension between us started to thicken-- that's unusual, because we get along so well.
I felt, in my heart, that there was no choice. My son could not call in "sick" because he started the job two days earlier. I wanted my son out of that apartment and far away from "A".
B finally got off work five hours after we had arrived. We took him to see the SLE and to meet the house manager. We had already moved B's things into the SLE-- and then disaster happened.
My son failed the drug test. There it was-- a "positive" for opiates.
My heart sank, and I wanted to cry. I didn't, and I kept a strong facade that I was going to let my son deal with the consequences. I won't even get into the "why". B swears that he was taking a prescribed narcotic for the back injury he suffered from his car accident. No matter what, an SLE cannot allow anyone to be a resident if their test comes up "dirty". The house manager returned my checks. I could tell that he felt really bad, but I knew that this is how things had to be. B was really upset and I could see he was starting to stress.
So, we loaded up his things again and returned to the apartment. I drove home, feeling discouraged, afraid, disappointed and just plain worried about my son. Over and over, in my head, I kept rehearsing all of the events in my son's life since he was admitted into treatment.
I realized that my son's five months of sobriety was now returned to Day One. The odometer had rolled back...and I wondered if my son realized this.
I could not sleep at night-- I'd wake up at 3:00am, wondering when "A" would return. I wanted my son out of that apartment, but he had nowhere to go. My best friend would not let him stay at their house, since he had tested positive. I would not call my son-- I had to let him figure things out.
Still, I could feel my body feeling exhausted and stressed. I could not meddle. B's father asked me to plead with the SLE, but I told him that I was not going to interfere. This would be my son's mess to clean up.
Tuesday morning, on my way out the door to work, the phone rang. It was my son-- "A" had returned, and had bolted into his room and threatened him to get the "f" out of his apartment. He literally threw my son out the door. What could I do? I prayed and I drove to work. My head was spinning.
I had to focus on my job. I could not share with anyone what was going on in my personal life. I have a job to do, people who are depending on me to do it-- and I could not let my personal problems affect my quality of work. With that said, B's father drove up get my son's belongings out of the apartment. They had to call the police, because "A" had changed the locks.
My son is out of that apartment, and I feel sorry for "A". When I met "A" he had been sober for... I don't know! At least 30-days, but... He is lost-- "A" has been through three rehabs, has done time in prison, and he is lost to his addiction...
So, for two nights, B has spent the last of his money staying at a Motel 6. I know that this is Life Skills 101 for him, and at least I felt he was "safe". I could finally sleep through the night.
Last night, my son called to say that he met with the man who was renting a room at a condo. I had found this condo on Craig's List, too. B was accepted to move in to this place. I don't know what to say-- this man is in his late 50's and he has a 20 year old son (who doesn't live there). I told my son that if he did not move into an SLE, that he cannot ask me for anymore help. If he loses his job, or mismanages his money, he is on his own. I mean it.
This morning, B's father is on the way to pick up B's belonging that are in storage at my best friend's garage. I have given my son his last rent check help from his trust account.
B slept in his car, last night. Again, this is good character building, I hope. Of course, I worried about him being safe.
So, here we are-- a new home for my son... this will be his four new place in five months.
I can only say that I pray that this new home is part of God's plan for him. I pray that this new roommate is going to be sober, safe and sane.
What would make me happy is for my son to have joy in his life. Being "happy", to me is too worldly. Having money makes us happy. Having "fun" makes us happy. But "happy" can be short-lived.
I pray that my son will discovered the wonderful feeling of "peace" and "joy" that only the Lord can give us. I say this, from experience. In my deepest part of my heart-- my spirit, my soul... I believe that only my Lord, Jesus Christ, can fill me with "peace" and "joy".
Even when times are troubled, when I feel afraid or worried-- I know that when I become quiet and still enough, that I can receive "peace" and "joy" from my Heavenly father-- because He will never forsake me.
That is His promise. Despite all the stress that my son puts me through, I can draw on that "peace and joy" and feel thankful for all that I have.
Right now, I pray for peace and joy in my son's life. Where his sobriety is now ...who knows... I pray that my son will find calm in the storms of his life.
I continue to pray for those who are addicted to drugs and alcohol. They need to "work" the program for the rest of their lives. There is no cure for addiction.
I need to remind myself that my son IS an addict, and he always will be. He will always struggle with wanting to "use". His battle is still waging on, and I need to be careful that I don't think that it's over.
It isn't.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
My son is living the life of Job
Sometimes I feel like if there was no such thing as bad luck, I wouldn't have any at all... actually, I should say that I used to feel that way. A few years ago, I read the book of Job in it's entirety, and I really reflected on what it means to praise God, despite the troubles we have in our life. From reading the story of Job, and all of the terrible things that happened to him-- and how God restored his life, I better understand how God will restore our lives-- in His time, and if we remain faithful in trusting Him. I have learned the meaning of "God has a plan for us", because my life was restored, after years of heartbreak, bankruptcy and so many frightening episodes of "life".
Today, B was broad-sided by an 86 year old man, and it appears his "new" car is totalled. B is okay, though he says his back hurts. This happened just a few hours ago.
My son is really bummed. He said to me "I think that God is trying to get my attention".
I don't call this Kharma. Perhaps it is God's way of trying to get our attention when bad things happen. Then again, I think that when bad things happen, it's not that God orchestrates the bad event in how it unfolds. At times, I think it's more than we go about doing things in our life, without asking God for guidance, wisdom and direction. So, (and this is what I do believe) God just waits for our consequences to happen-- and that's when I think he is waiting for us to look "up" and realize that we need to pay attention-- to God's will.
I have no idea why my son has been involved in so many car accidents. I can only thank God that each and every time my son has been mercifully spared of severe injury or death.
At least my son has been hanging out at my house, reading and taking care of doctor visits that he has long neglected. So far, he appears to not be under the influence of any kind of drugs.
Honestly, I sometimes feel as though my son is one drama, after another, waiting to happen.
So, we shall see what the outcome is with his car. Hopefully, it is not totaled and it can be repaired.
Unbelievable!
Thank you, Lord, for sparing my son of physical harm.
- I say this, because my son is having a really bad stroke of bad things happening.
- Two years ago, he was carjacked and his truck was totaled.
- In May of this year, a girl hit him on the freeway. His car was not damaged, but she is now claiming bodily injury-- months later. He is not at fault.
- In June, he caused a three-car accident and his car was totaled. This time, it was his fault because he rear-ended a car in commuter traffic in the Bay Area. His father found an identical car to replace it-- the insurance money was less than $4000.00.
Today, B was broad-sided by an 86 year old man, and it appears his "new" car is totalled. B is okay, though he says his back hurts. This happened just a few hours ago.
My son is really bummed. He said to me "I think that God is trying to get my attention".
I don't call this Kharma. Perhaps it is God's way of trying to get our attention when bad things happen. Then again, I think that when bad things happen, it's not that God orchestrates the bad event in how it unfolds. At times, I think it's more than we go about doing things in our life, without asking God for guidance, wisdom and direction. So, (and this is what I do believe) God just waits for our consequences to happen-- and that's when I think he is waiting for us to look "up" and realize that we need to pay attention-- to God's will.
I have no idea why my son has been involved in so many car accidents. I can only thank God that each and every time my son has been mercifully spared of severe injury or death.
At least my son has been hanging out at my house, reading and taking care of doctor visits that he has long neglected. So far, he appears to not be under the influence of any kind of drugs.
Honestly, I sometimes feel as though my son is one drama, after another, waiting to happen.
So, we shall see what the outcome is with his car. Hopefully, it is not totaled and it can be repaired.
Unbelievable!
Thank you, Lord, for sparing my son of physical harm.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Reflecting on 4 1/2 months ago-- it seems a distant memory
For the last few days, I have been reflecting on the miracles that only God can do. I try not to rewind that fateful night, on March 31st, too often. It was the night when my son came to see me and I could see how ravaged his body was from his addiction to Oxy-Contin and to smoking heroin. I felt as though my son had been taken by a terrible demon, who wasn't willing to let him go. B was a mess. I don't wish for any parent to see their child as ill as mine was. I was so afraid for him, and desperate. I still remember, falling onto my knees and crying for God to give me help. He heard me. I remember how hard it was for me to give my son $50.00 to buy pills "from the street". It sounds crazy, but I was trying to buy time until morning-- when I could make phone calls to see how to get my son into treatment.
I remember how afraid I was, the next morning. Since April 1st, I truly believe that the multitude of prayers for my son have no only been heard by our Heavenly Father, but that he has answered prayers for healing, mercy and hope. My son was going through heavy withdrawals, and his father was so desperate to help him that he actually paid for more street drugs so that my son would not become physically ill. In desperation, I asked my boss if I could leave my job and I drove to a local recovery center. I didn't feel as though this outpatient clinic was the answer to help my son. I drove to another treatment center, only to find out that they did not take our insurance. I wish I could remember the woman's name, because she paused and returned with the name of a treatment center (in the Oakland Bay Area) that she heard was a preferred provider for our insurance.
I dialed the number as soon as I got into my car and I remember feeling that God had performed a miracle-- my son had an appointment to be interviewed into their program! The miracles didn't stop, that day. I had to convince my son to go in for treatment, but he was fighting it. He was convinced that a methodone clinic would be the answer. I knew that he was trading one addiction for another. I was given a phone number for a person who did drug counseling. Another miracle-- he answered the phone. He offered to see my son, that evening.
I remember calling my son and telling him I had found help for him. Would he do it? He paused for what seemed like an eternity.
"Yes", he finally said. I have no doubt that God was in control of all of these events. It went to smoothly. I remember loading my son into my Jeep, with my husband and his cousin who came along for moral support. To this day, my son does not remember his cousin being there. He was so loaded, that he says that day remains a blur.
Today, my son sat next to me at church. He was listening, intently, as our pastor spoke about his newest series-- How Jesus give us hope when we are at the end of our rope.
I strongly believe that the only reason my son is doing as well as he is today, is because of faith that God is the God of miracles. He is the I Am. God deserves all the glory for where my son is today, at this very moment. I can remember my fears for my son's life, my heart ache, my sense of being in shock over my son's addiction-- and I would feel a sense of peace that God was handling the whole situation.
My son's recovery has been a series of the right opportunities opening at just the right time. He has met people who have helped my son in his recovery-- with support, with small jobs. My son is about to start a new job on the 28th of August.
B has been staying with me, since this Friday. He is here because he needs a crash course on working around race cars. That is his father's passion and profession, so his father is beaming with joy and pride that his son is starting a career with race cars. B wants to stay with me for a few days, because he realizes he needs to eat healthy food and that he needs to get his body into shape. He sees that his diet of junk food and smoking has left his tall and slender body physically weak. He spent three days, working 12 hour shifts, at a race track and he sees how physically demanding it is to be an assistant to a racing team.
Today, the miracle that my son is still clean and doing well in his recovery, has made my heart feel a deep gratitude to God. I give Him all the glory and praises for saving my son from death-- and that is not an exaggeration. The odds of my son's recovery is only about 3%. That is not very encouraging. That B never got arrested is another miracle. I call that God's mercy. God has a plan for him, and I hope that my son finds the way to fulfill it.
Based on what I am seeing in B, today, I believe that he is not using drugs. He still struggles with sleeping well, and he tosses and turns at night. He relies on paxel to combat depression-- and that saddens me. He is still very immature, and I believe that his drug addiction stunted his mental growth. He struggles with remembering things-- all drug aftermath, he agrees.
I still catch him embelishing stories, and I still don't believe everything he says. He is still very manipulative, but I am learning to call him on it.
My son has a long way to go, and I don't forget that the demon of addiction wants him back. I am not comfortable with my son being back on his home turf-- close to all of his drug contacts. While he says he deleted their phone numbers, I don't doubt he could find a drug dealer if he really tried. He plans to return to his apartment in a few days. In the meantime, I will line up doctor appointments to manage his diabetes and to get his eyes checked.
I think that the reason I am not blogging every day, like I used to during April, May and June, is that I feel as though the crisis of B's drug addiction has passed. I need to remind myself not to become complacent. My son could relapse tomorrow, next month or in a year.
My son is a drug addict, and he always will be. I will continue to pray for him, and others who are struggling with this disease. Ultimately, I pray that God will use my son's experience to become a testimony to others who are going through this.
I will continue to blog about my son's addiction, how it affects me and to share other stories. I might not blog every day, but at least once a week. If I can touch one person's heart, encourage them, pray for them-- then God is using me for his Glory.
Blessings.
I remember how afraid I was, the next morning. Since April 1st, I truly believe that the multitude of prayers for my son have no only been heard by our Heavenly Father, but that he has answered prayers for healing, mercy and hope. My son was going through heavy withdrawals, and his father was so desperate to help him that he actually paid for more street drugs so that my son would not become physically ill. In desperation, I asked my boss if I could leave my job and I drove to a local recovery center. I didn't feel as though this outpatient clinic was the answer to help my son. I drove to another treatment center, only to find out that they did not take our insurance. I wish I could remember the woman's name, because she paused and returned with the name of a treatment center (in the Oakland Bay Area) that she heard was a preferred provider for our insurance.
I dialed the number as soon as I got into my car and I remember feeling that God had performed a miracle-- my son had an appointment to be interviewed into their program! The miracles didn't stop, that day. I had to convince my son to go in for treatment, but he was fighting it. He was convinced that a methodone clinic would be the answer. I knew that he was trading one addiction for another. I was given a phone number for a person who did drug counseling. Another miracle-- he answered the phone. He offered to see my son, that evening.
I remember calling my son and telling him I had found help for him. Would he do it? He paused for what seemed like an eternity.
"Yes", he finally said. I have no doubt that God was in control of all of these events. It went to smoothly. I remember loading my son into my Jeep, with my husband and his cousin who came along for moral support. To this day, my son does not remember his cousin being there. He was so loaded, that he says that day remains a blur.
Today, my son sat next to me at church. He was listening, intently, as our pastor spoke about his newest series-- How Jesus give us hope when we are at the end of our rope.
I strongly believe that the only reason my son is doing as well as he is today, is because of faith that God is the God of miracles. He is the I Am. God deserves all the glory for where my son is today, at this very moment. I can remember my fears for my son's life, my heart ache, my sense of being in shock over my son's addiction-- and I would feel a sense of peace that God was handling the whole situation.
My son's recovery has been a series of the right opportunities opening at just the right time. He has met people who have helped my son in his recovery-- with support, with small jobs. My son is about to start a new job on the 28th of August.
B has been staying with me, since this Friday. He is here because he needs a crash course on working around race cars. That is his father's passion and profession, so his father is beaming with joy and pride that his son is starting a career with race cars. B wants to stay with me for a few days, because he realizes he needs to eat healthy food and that he needs to get his body into shape. He sees that his diet of junk food and smoking has left his tall and slender body physically weak. He spent three days, working 12 hour shifts, at a race track and he sees how physically demanding it is to be an assistant to a racing team.
Today, the miracle that my son is still clean and doing well in his recovery, has made my heart feel a deep gratitude to God. I give Him all the glory and praises for saving my son from death-- and that is not an exaggeration. The odds of my son's recovery is only about 3%. That is not very encouraging. That B never got arrested is another miracle. I call that God's mercy. God has a plan for him, and I hope that my son finds the way to fulfill it.
Based on what I am seeing in B, today, I believe that he is not using drugs. He still struggles with sleeping well, and he tosses and turns at night. He relies on paxel to combat depression-- and that saddens me. He is still very immature, and I believe that his drug addiction stunted his mental growth. He struggles with remembering things-- all drug aftermath, he agrees.
I still catch him embelishing stories, and I still don't believe everything he says. He is still very manipulative, but I am learning to call him on it.
My son has a long way to go, and I don't forget that the demon of addiction wants him back. I am not comfortable with my son being back on his home turf-- close to all of his drug contacts. While he says he deleted their phone numbers, I don't doubt he could find a drug dealer if he really tried. He plans to return to his apartment in a few days. In the meantime, I will line up doctor appointments to manage his diabetes and to get his eyes checked.
I think that the reason I am not blogging every day, like I used to during April, May and June, is that I feel as though the crisis of B's drug addiction has passed. I need to remind myself not to become complacent. My son could relapse tomorrow, next month or in a year.
My son is a drug addict, and he always will be. I will continue to pray for him, and others who are struggling with this disease. Ultimately, I pray that God will use my son's experience to become a testimony to others who are going through this.
I will continue to blog about my son's addiction, how it affects me and to share other stories. I might not blog every day, but at least once a week. If I can touch one person's heart, encourage them, pray for them-- then God is using me for his Glory.
Blessings.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Feeling behind, overwhelmed but thankful
Dear Friends, Family and the anonymous people who are reading this blog:
I am feeling a lot of pressure because my daily life schedule feels so out of balance. It's ironic that I had the entire month of July off work. I had the privilege of sleeping in for a month. I cherish my quiet mornings, so to have the house to myself (except for two cats who seemed to bask in the glory of having a human at home during the day) I had all kinds of plans and goals I wanted to accomplish.
What I did not expect was that the month long vacation would vanish faster than I imagined. While I managed get my house clutter cleared away, I found myself feeling unfocused. My daily morning times reading the Word, prayerfully got interrupted with a list of things I needed to do.
I was not putting God first in my life. This blog is an important part of keeping a spiritual attitude about my son's addiction and I just couldn't find the mental energy I needed to write.
I have received two emails from mothers who are going through the same situation that I am in. Every day, I wanted to write back to them and share my encouragement and compassion with them-- but the day slipped by and so I promised that I'd do it the next morning. I never did.
A mother that I met through the high school, where I work, wrote a lengthy and encouraging update about her son. I flagged that email to respond to her. I never did.
A family member wrote a wonderful email to me, so I flagged that to respond to. I never did.
So, why am I acting like a flake? That is so not like me! I strongly believe that the evil forces of nature-- The Enemy-- will stop at nothing to distract me from putting God first in my life. I know that the Dark One is clever, cunning and I think I've not kept myself spiritually fit. I have allowed my "I'll do it when I am finished with this..." excuses to keep me from staying in touch with God first. No wonder I don't feel His peace!
So, today, I am stopping my household duties long enough to post this blog. I want to say to each and every one of you-- you are all in my thoughts and my prayers. Many of you are struggling with dealing with an addict. I want you to know, that every morning, I lift up in prayer to God that He will encourage all of you who are dealing with the pain and helplessness that we feel when a loved one is using drugs and/or alcohol. I am praying for Connor, Colby, John, Debbie and the faceless addicts who have an addiction demon that only our Higher Power can help them to fight against.
I am praying for the families who cannot afford to put their loved one into an in-patient treatment program. The costs are astounding, and I don't know what options there are for those who don't have insurance. I thank the Lord that our insurance took care of B's bill, except for 10% The final cost of his detox/recovery treatment came to $36,000.00. That does not include the $10,000 in costs to help my son stay away from his home town. That was only possible because my mother left my son a trust fund that I carefully invested into the bank.
I have saved the emails that have been sent to me to my personal emails. It is my deepest desire to respond to each one of them. They mean a great deal to me.
I have much to write, but a very quick summary (for I must finish my chores) is:
B has been offered a job that sounds too good to be true. Yes, that's a cliche' and I sincerely hope that this is something that God has as His plan for my son. He would work for a Formula Mazda Race Team just five minutes from his apartment in Benicia. From what B told me, he will be training the be the owner's right hand person. Basically, he will be a "glorified gopher" and his starting salary would be enough for him to afford his apartment and his basic needs. He will travel 3 out of 4 weeks a month with the 18-wheeler that transports the race cars. That is all I know, for now. So, he wants to stay in Benicia.
I thank the Lord that my son is no longer considering moving to Nevada. I have prayed that my son would understand that to "freeload" off people by living with them without a job, is not the moral thing to do.
B is excited and I am happy for him.
I have concerns, though, of course. Is he using? I don't know. I don't see him often enough. However, I do not hear his slurred and rapid speech that was common he he was loaded on oxy-contin.
He is returning phone calls, promptly. When he was using, he only called me with an emergency reason why he needed money. That's not happening, from me. His father, though, still gives my son money. I am at peace with that, because that is his father's decision.
My son did spend last weekend with us, and he went to church with us. I am thankful, that my son is a believer in Jesus Christ. Is he a follower? I think he's still in the Prodigal Son mode, but I think he wants to find a church in his area.
One quick note: "Pastor", thank you for your anonymous encouragement. Please email me, privately, as I do not have your email!
My timer just went off, so I must return to work. Thank you for your prayers and encouragement. I will strive to do a better job answering your emails.
Humbly,
Debby
I am feeling a lot of pressure because my daily life schedule feels so out of balance. It's ironic that I had the entire month of July off work. I had the privilege of sleeping in for a month. I cherish my quiet mornings, so to have the house to myself (except for two cats who seemed to bask in the glory of having a human at home during the day) I had all kinds of plans and goals I wanted to accomplish.
What I did not expect was that the month long vacation would vanish faster than I imagined. While I managed get my house clutter cleared away, I found myself feeling unfocused. My daily morning times reading the Word, prayerfully got interrupted with a list of things I needed to do.
I was not putting God first in my life. This blog is an important part of keeping a spiritual attitude about my son's addiction and I just couldn't find the mental energy I needed to write.
I have received two emails from mothers who are going through the same situation that I am in. Every day, I wanted to write back to them and share my encouragement and compassion with them-- but the day slipped by and so I promised that I'd do it the next morning. I never did.
A mother that I met through the high school, where I work, wrote a lengthy and encouraging update about her son. I flagged that email to respond to her. I never did.
A family member wrote a wonderful email to me, so I flagged that to respond to. I never did.
So, why am I acting like a flake? That is so not like me! I strongly believe that the evil forces of nature-- The Enemy-- will stop at nothing to distract me from putting God first in my life. I know that the Dark One is clever, cunning and I think I've not kept myself spiritually fit. I have allowed my "I'll do it when I am finished with this..." excuses to keep me from staying in touch with God first. No wonder I don't feel His peace!
So, today, I am stopping my household duties long enough to post this blog. I want to say to each and every one of you-- you are all in my thoughts and my prayers. Many of you are struggling with dealing with an addict. I want you to know, that every morning, I lift up in prayer to God that He will encourage all of you who are dealing with the pain and helplessness that we feel when a loved one is using drugs and/or alcohol. I am praying for Connor, Colby, John, Debbie and the faceless addicts who have an addiction demon that only our Higher Power can help them to fight against.
I am praying for the families who cannot afford to put their loved one into an in-patient treatment program. The costs are astounding, and I don't know what options there are for those who don't have insurance. I thank the Lord that our insurance took care of B's bill, except for 10% The final cost of his detox/recovery treatment came to $36,000.00. That does not include the $10,000 in costs to help my son stay away from his home town. That was only possible because my mother left my son a trust fund that I carefully invested into the bank.
I have saved the emails that have been sent to me to my personal emails. It is my deepest desire to respond to each one of them. They mean a great deal to me.
I have much to write, but a very quick summary (for I must finish my chores) is:
B has been offered a job that sounds too good to be true. Yes, that's a cliche' and I sincerely hope that this is something that God has as His plan for my son. He would work for a Formula Mazda Race Team just five minutes from his apartment in Benicia. From what B told me, he will be training the be the owner's right hand person. Basically, he will be a "glorified gopher" and his starting salary would be enough for him to afford his apartment and his basic needs. He will travel 3 out of 4 weeks a month with the 18-wheeler that transports the race cars. That is all I know, for now. So, he wants to stay in Benicia.
I thank the Lord that my son is no longer considering moving to Nevada. I have prayed that my son would understand that to "freeload" off people by living with them without a job, is not the moral thing to do.
B is excited and I am happy for him.
I have concerns, though, of course. Is he using? I don't know. I don't see him often enough. However, I do not hear his slurred and rapid speech that was common he he was loaded on oxy-contin.
He is returning phone calls, promptly. When he was using, he only called me with an emergency reason why he needed money. That's not happening, from me. His father, though, still gives my son money. I am at peace with that, because that is his father's decision.
My son did spend last weekend with us, and he went to church with us. I am thankful, that my son is a believer in Jesus Christ. Is he a follower? I think he's still in the Prodigal Son mode, but I think he wants to find a church in his area.
One quick note: "Pastor", thank you for your anonymous encouragement. Please email me, privately, as I do not have your email!
My timer just went off, so I must return to work. Thank you for your prayers and encouragement. I will strive to do a better job answering your emails.
Humbly,
Debby
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