Thoughts on being the Mother of a Drug Addict

Dear Son,

I loved you from the moment I knew I would become a mom. The stretch marks, the flabby stomach , the pain of childbirth, and sleepless nights was so worth having you as my precious Baby Boy. I have never lost that feeling for you, my son—even when you first began to show the signs of trying to break free of “Mommy”.  The middle school years were some of my toughest, and I admit that there were times when I struggled to like being around you. Our battle of the wills led to some rough times—a lot of my own tears, anger and frustration. I wondered how I could handle the financial challenges in supporting the two of us, on my own meager salary. By the Grace of God, we made it. Amen.

In your high school years, I felt as though I’d lost you. I didn’t know the Baby Boy I once had.  Then, my entire world as a mom changed—

My precious boy, with that innocent heart and who couldn’t bear to be away from my protective arms had grown up—and had become addicted to opiates.   A new world opened up to me, and it’s a very dark one.  I think the hardest thing that the mother of a drug addict has to do is to balance our unconditional love for you, while having to break our heart’s desire to protect you in all things.  We find ourselves having to learni two words that were alien to us—“codependency” and “enabling”. 

Being the mother of a drug addict is a pain worse than childbirth, in my honest opinion. I love you, son, so much that sometimes my heart feels as though it will burst with strength of it all.  When I find out that you have lied to me, the pain cuts very deep.  I have always been there for you, always wanted to support, protect and nurture you… so I struggle with how the power of your addiction overrules being untruthful to me.  I know that the power of the drugs can take over what you know is wrong and right. 

Still, I count my blessings that you are my son.  My heart breaks for the moms who cannot physically hold or touch their child—because they are either incarcerated or they have died of an overdose.  I have so much hope in you, son!  I see so much potential in you.  I only wish you could see that in yourself.  I pray, every single day, that you will find true joy in your life.  I’m not talking the joy of suddenly coming into some money to buy something you’ve always wanted. I’m talking about joy that stays within you, even in the midst of trouble.  How I wish that you could experience that!  My words sound too cornball for you, at this time. One day, I hope you receive them and understand.

I have come to accept that your life has been irreversibly changed, because there is no cure for addiction.  My hope comes from my faith in God and fervent prayer that you will find the strength and courage it takes to resist the temptation to use.  You will always be tempted, for the rest of your life.  That breaks my heart even more.

Relapse is a word that scares me to no end, my son.  It means that you failed to resist the overpowering need to use.  Will the rest of your life be spent needing a synthetic opiate to keep you from using?  I pray not.  I see the fear in you at the thought of withdrawals.  I cannot understand it, because I’ve never experienced it.  I keep praying that you will make it through some rough times to get past the withdrawals—and that you will have someone in your life that you can trust to help you get through the times that you will want to use.  Medication isn’t the only way, and how I long for you to be free of that!

While I cannot understand what if feels like to have an overwhelming need to use—you cannot understand my own feeling of disappointment…despair…sadness…fear… that comes from being the mother of a drug addict.

I can forgive you for the relapse. but I cannot forgive the powers of addiction.  How I long for you to find true joy in your heart.  How I long for you to want to enjoy your life, and to have a foundation that will hold you up when times are tough. 

Look up to God in heaven.  He sees you. He knows your heart.  He grieves along with me.  He loves you more than you love yourself.  He has a plan and purpose for you, but you will never know what it is if you try to make that journey all by yourself.

Walk with Jesus, my son, and let go of the hands of the Dark One that you are holding.

No matter what you’ve lied about, or mistakes you’ve made, I love you so much.  Hurtful things you say to me do just that—but it never stops the abundant love I have for you!  

I wait…I pray… I hope… that you will desire to know God so that He will fill that void in your life with His love.

Always,

Mom