The Waiting Game...

I don't have anything HUGE to report. B called his treatment center and there are no beds available. So, he is waiting for an opening. There aren't many other options here, at home. Once place offers outpatient treatment only. He could check himself into a hospital for detox-- fortunately B isn't nearly in as bad of shape as he was six months ago. So, it is possible they would not admit him.

So, the waiting game begins. Hopefully, a bed will become available for my son.

Until then, I am guess that he's buying Subutex from his friends, to keep him from going into withdrawals.

I can feel my back & shoulder muscles tightening up into "stress knots". I am trying not to worry, because it's futile. It is what it is, and the best course of action is for me to pray that God will show B the way.

B is leaving at his father's house. It's better this way. No matter what, I cannot stand seeing my son laying around and doing nothing. It goes against everything that my mother taught me. Nor, can I afford to be nickel and dimed to death.

While I want to believe my son, I have an instinct that he hasn't quite told me all of the truth. That's what addicts to best. They lie. They are highly convincing, but they lie. It's just part of the whole addiction process.

I do know this-- my son loves me, and I'm secure in that. He knows that I'm not stupid, though. So, that's why he hasn't ask to live with me.

So, I wait.