One year has passed already

Yesterday, I was driving my son to his college night class.

"Do you realize that one year ago, yesterday, we checked you into a treatment facility?", I asked.

"Yep, sure do!"

In many ways, this year has flown by. At times, though, I felt as though time was standing still. I've had so many emotional roller coaster rides with my son. Can I say that he's come a long way? In some ways...

To me, I'm the one who can say that I've come a long way. Who knew, until a year ago, that my son was a functioning heroin addict? I didn't even know that heroin could be smoked!

In one year's time, I have learned more about drugs, drug lingo, rehab, the 12-steps, co-dependence....and all the dysfunction that comes wtih addiction.

In one year's time, my blog has grown in readership. Most of my visitors read (or I assume they are) but don't leave comments. Those who do leave comments, give me pause to really think about what they say.

I'm not alone, that's for certain. I've had addicts leave comments to me, or who have emailed me privately-- sadly, most of them don't leave a way for me to reply. I can only hope that they are checking back to see if I respond.

I read the blog "An Addict in my Son's Bedroom" on a regular basis. I feel as though we are in a similar situation. My son's sobriety is ahead of their son, but nonetheless, "Dad" expresses his thoughts and feelings as though he is reading my own.

My son will turn 21 in seven months. He has a very long way to go. So far, he's testing clean for opiates. I am deferring to his stepdad to be the person to talk to B. My son needs a male role model, and my husband is a very positive role model. I have noticed that my husband has thawed out, towards B, since January-- when we found out that he was lying to us about being clean.

Those stupid foils! I find them, in ways that always shock me-- when I open a magazine, or buried deep in the corner of B's closet. Of course, I test, right way and he comes up clean. I hate them... that dirty black line where my son smoked this dirty drug and polluted his brain with it. They disgust me. We purged his room and car. I told him to look everywhere. I want these gone and I'd better not find another one.

B gets frustrated when he feels I suspect that he's lying or using. Go figure. He cannot fathom how afraid I am of my son relapsing. I know that worrying about him relapsing isn't doing any of us a favor. I don't trust my son. He's forgetful. He loses things. He can be all gung-ho about doing something, and the next day he can be depressed and feeling hopeless.

Right now, he appears to be in an "up" mood. I'm not. I just realized that B didn't return my cellphone that I let him borrow last night. We needed a way to find out what time to pick him up from his college class. B "conveniently" forgot to give it to me. I went to use it, and it's not there.

B has lost countless cellphones.

I'm trying to fight the stress of knowing that my job is perilously close to being cut. I could, potentially, become the victim of the school budget cuts. I have the lowest seniority. I feel as though my life is being battered by the devil. My faith is being tested....so is my patience.

I told my son, this morning, that I am going into survival mode. Any and all things that I consider my "wants" and "fun" is out. I'm going back into the survival skills I learned as a divorced mom-- when I eeked by from paycheck to paycheck...sometimes in the red. I can do this. I need to learn how to survive on one paycheck...even if I get to keep my job. Our economy isn't through beating a lot of us up.

Maybe, this situation will be my son's way of seeing that even I understand that the recession means sacrifice. He was so upset, last week, feeling that after payday and taking care of his expenses (and fun money) he was in the red. Yep, know what that's like.

Sorry... I digress.

A year ago, today, I remember the sense of peace that I had-- knowing that my son was in a treatment center. Like so many parents, sometimes we get a strange kind of comfort knowing that our kids are not out in the streets.... stealing, lying or dealing to buy their drugs.

Today, is a good day. My son is at work. He has my cellphone, but I'll get it back tonight. I'll test him, too... when he least expects it. So far, he never argues about it. He complies.

He says that I don't praise him enough. I think I do. I need to work on not allowing my own fears to manifest into talking down to my son.

He's a sensitive young man. He's very insecure. He's an addict.