I have such a hard time to find the will to log on to this blog to write. It's like I'm paralyzed, and unable think of what I want to write about. Have I run out of things to say? Am I helping anyone?
My son's addiction is in "limbo". It's like, I'm holding my breath. It's been five months, now, that B isn't using. To say that I'm relieved, is an understatement.
I try to remain optimistic, and my son is a completely different person. I try not to "what if" my thoughts. I am living in the moment. My son is "normal". The friends he once used with are out of his life. When he isn't working, he's on his X-Box with his online gaming. He is on a very low dose of suboxone, and seeing his doctor on a regular basis. He says he has absolutely no thoughts or desire to use.
Exhale.
What prompted me to write is a comment that I received today:
I found your blog today. I'm 22 my story is very similar to your sons. Your blog is probably my moms thoughts. My mother and stepfather recently discovered my use. I've been addicted to opiates for 7 years, and I've hid it from most of my friends and family when they found out I said I was commited to quiting, but I wasnt. I quit for a couple days and relapsed. I relate to your sons lies and escapades. I just am having trouble seeing a life after this monster. I feel so empty and broken. I feel so bad for my mother and everything she goes through because of me. I dont know where to start but thanks to your blog I know I definetely want to start. I know I am not the daughter my parents dreamed of but maybe one day I can be
This knocked the emotional wind right out of me. How I wish I could give this young woman a warm and loving hug. How I wish my son could sit down, with her, and tell her what did and did not work for him.
I still receive private emails from parents whose hearts are breaking. It brings up feelings of sadness that I thought I had healed from.
I feel so helpless. I wish I had the gift of writing in such a way that I could give someone solid advice, or answers.
I'm just the mother of a drug addict. I'm a woman who leans on my faith in God, to give me the strength I need, when times are tough.
I used to blog here, several times a week. I had blogs I'd visit, and bloggers who would visit me to encourage me. Many of those bloggers are gone. I often wonder what happened.
Once in a while, I wonder-- is anyone reading this?
Then, I get a reader who leaves a comment about how I've touched them.
I'm here. I won't abandon my blog. I just don't have a whole lot to write about, because our life is "normal" and peaceful. Amen. I pray that I will never have to come here because I am afraid for my son-- because he has returned to his former life.
I think the reason that I avoid coming here, is fear of dredging up painful memories. I have forgiven my son, and I rejoice in where he is today. But the pain is there-- enough for me to continue to have compassion for those of you who are addicts-- and those of you who are the loved ones of addicts.
Hang on to hope. My son beat the odds, and we are closer than ever. I give the Glory to God, and His Mercy.
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8 comments:
Our son turned 29 last week, he is still on suboxone and it has saved his life. He has a daughter now and she is a gift. The ten years prior to this last were hell and I don't wish them on anyone. He is our only child and we love his so much that this almost destroyed all of us. If only suboxone was as easy to get as opiates the youth of this country would benefit so much. There so much more I want to say, for now I thank our dear Lord our son has survived this horrific addiction.
Your blog is very helpful and comforting. My son is an opiate addict. He has had some relapses and has decided to move away from home to get away from all of his triggers, old friends (or so called friends). I feel so sad for him. I want him to be himself again. I don't see a 23 yr old addict, I see my 5 yr old son with his cowboy boots on. How did we get here? I cry every day. We are all exhausted. Hopefully this sober house will be what he needs to get his life on track. Keep writing.... I will keep reading
Your son is not clean, he is still using suboxone (optiates) every single day. It is not a miracle, its switching one addicting drug for another...Try stopping suboxone and you will see this 'miracle' unveil its true self. Your son is still a drug addict, just a more manageable one. praise jesus right?
Well I'm going to be three months sober tomorrow. This is Krissy, the girl who wrote you that original message back in July. I'm not going to say that your blog changed my life, but it definitely made something click. My wheels started turning. About life, my mother, my addiction. I'd always wanted to quit for my mother because of the pain I caused her, but reading your thoughts of your sons suffering and addiction made me realise. She wasn't hurt because of me hurting her, she was hurting because I was hurting myself. Although this is an apparently obvious realization, it was very profound for me. I thought my addiction brought shame to her because it meant id never be succesful or rich or what every parent dreams of (not because of anything she lead me t believe, she always said that shed be happy if I was happy...and clean.) Part of this realization was that I was making these standards for myself all along, I was not happy with me, I wasn't good enough for me and i turned these accusations of myself into this thing that my parents were the ones who were dissatisfied. I was manipulative towards my mother in ways that i did not know I was immediately capable of. I was selfish, absurd and down right childish. I started to think... A lot. My parents had kicked me out, which I knew was hard for my mother. When she asked me to come back I made her feel guilty, that she had abandoned me, that dare I say she didn't deserve to have ME there. It hurts me so much to write these things but its true. The real reason I didnt go back was because i knew that it wouldnt be easy there anymore. They had found out I was still using and would be investigating. So I stayed with a close friend, who actually never has used hard drugs. We smoked weed together and he knew of my use but truly believed I was clean. See he was the roomate of my closest drug buddy who was at the time in jail on pending charges. I knew I could hide there, use and wait for my friend to come back. My mother knowing I was there just thought the worse. Truth was I was alone... A lot. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. I'd call people over and over. No answer. My mom sending me loving messages, my cold replies to her. My need for anyone to be there with me beside her, because she would break my cold¥ness she would make me FEEL. Which i didn't want couldn't have, in my mind I didn't need to quit I could be succesful on drugs and she would see.
was so lonely, and tired of life. The only people who answered my calls or texts were my drug dealers. The incoming texts I got were positive loving messages from my mother which i cold heartedly ignored. Only to when she got hysterical with worry I'd reply "I'm alive." These were about 6 days that felt like year. I wanted to reach out but not to a program, so i Googled books on heroin addiction. Your blog showed up. I started way back when your son was heavily using and mostly read the ones that were dramatic or that i could relate with him. Then some of your words jumped out at me. I began to see things from your point. Your love for your child the pain you felt because HE HURT. I stopped reading. It hurt, I didn't know why exactly yet or didn't want to admit it. The next couple days I woke up withdrawling. Is read your blog on my cellphone instead of calling my dealers. I found strength in your story. Your sons story. But the most important thing is I saw my mother. Her love for me, and that her pain wasn't for my financial future, but just for a future in general. For her to see me again, for her not to get an awful phone call. For me to smile laugh and live. I was shocked I wrote you I never looked back. I started speaking with my mom everyday. It wasn't nice at first, and still isn't. I deserve to hear her feelings, to be reminded of the things I did for the sake of getting high. Although im usually the one reminding her and myself. I am an addict, I will be an addict for the rest of my life. I know times will be hard, but I also learned this id rather relapse and tell her than lie to her one more time. I told her everything, I tell her everything, when I think of using when i think of giving up. My "drug buddy" was released from jail. I quote that term because he was much more than that to me he was just also a major part of my addiction and mine with his... Well he got out of jail and returned to the house I was living at. My mom begged me to come home I refused I honestly believe that i abused their home, made them emotional prisoners and i did not deserve to be there. Me and Alex talked for days when he got back about life addiction withdrawls and staying clean. I was very fortunate to have this situation. My mom had some faith in what I was telling her but it was highly unbelievable. My entire story is, but it is my unorthodox recovery. We used each other and our mothers as strength. Then one night I was picking my roomate up and i got pulled over I was in my pajamas with my dog in the car on regular night. My license was suspended, and I expressed to the police officer that i had no clue and explained the recent address change. He ran my roommates name and saw his pending charges and placed it as reasonable suspicion to search my car. Soon there were more officers dogs everything. They ended up finding some baggies with residue in my trunk a backpack I hadn't seen in months. He told me he was taking me to jail for possession of heroin. I was livid, and asked why why why me. He told me that he knew we were junkies and that there was more drugs, to snitch on my roomate and I would be fine. He'd let me free if i gave him information on my roomate. I had nothing! I was almost two months sober at this point. I didn't understand why this was happening after how hard I was trying to live clean. The cop grew angry with me and what he said was my lack of cooperation. He charged me with 2 counts of possession, paraphenilia and driving on a suspended with knowledge. I was booked and sent to jail. I called my parents I tried to explain, but when it came down to it I WAS CHARGED WITH DRUGS, I WAS BACK TO MY OLD WAYS. I WAS A LIAR. I sat in jail two days.
Everyone for sure thought this discredited my recent rehabilitation, the old me would have given up. But i didnt. I was even more determined, ashamed of my past and ready to put it behind me. I went to my mother showed her the police reports of how it was in the trunk and each bag under .10 grams. I showed her my arms I begged her to drug test me. For once i wasn't lying and i had proof. After that my mom grew very close with alex (my roomate) we all talk and hang out all night. The talks started small and grew huge, i would've never in a million years thought this would happen. Although it was a dark time as well. I thought a lot about how no matter what i did my addiction followed me. I was paying for the thing i had sweated out for seven days withdrawling cold turkey, vomiting halucinating crying begging to die, all alone. And for what? To pay for it once I was two.months into the "holy grail" of soberity? But i had back up one being my mother, the other being the only person who went to hell and back with me. They helped me every day, but i had to look in myself. It's not poor me anymore. I am strong, I am sober but I am and always will be an addict. It's been very hard, I don't have a car or a license but I'm working on it. I have not relapsed once, but I play tricks on myself, ill show up places I know my drug buddies would be.... Bars or people's houses, yet I havent once stepped through the doors the three times I found myself there, instead I call my mom. Today I got the news that my felonies were dropped, and even before my initial appearance. So i have just a misdemeanor. I think I'm starting to believe in God... Because someone heard my cries for mercy and saw my commitment to change. But you helped me remember my mothers love, which i believe its her love that fueled me to get out of my 7 years of living in my addiction hell. I don't really know why I came here today, but it was like those charges being dropped was a pay off for my cleanliness, it was my chance. I wanted to share my new chance with you, and let you know that despite the, I'm guessing, few negative responses you get, your words are that of a mothers love, which sometimes reminds people of HOME and what it's like to be loved and alive. Most importantly SOBER. For that, thank you.
You are helping me! Please don't stop. I want to assure that these people telling you he is replacing one addictive drug for another are correct. But THIS addictive drug IS DIFFERENT. It's like an anti-depressant. It doesn't get you high.
There is a HUGE difference. The difference is that Buprenorphine, the active ingredient in Suboxone (no naloxone is *not* active orally) is a partial agonist, not a full agonist like other opiates. This means that it simply clouds the receptor and acts as a regulator that stops withdrawal from occuring. It doesn't get people high, it doesn't completely block other opiates. It is a godsend and you shouldn't feel guilty for using it, and you shouldn't let these ignorant fools get you down. I suggest writing another blog about this very subject. How much of a benefit it is, the TRUTH about Suboxone. It would be very helpful to a lot of people and deter these ignorant hostile internet bullies from trying to make you feel bad for doing THE RIGHT THING. Wish you all the best, you are loved!
I am a 22 year old addict and I read this blog often to give me hope. I know it's possible but thinking of life without using scares me. I don't want to live like this anymore. You're a great woman to put your pain aside to help console others. Just know there are people here reading...
-c
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