Overwhelmed with sorrow for parents of drugs addicts-- like me

When I first started this blog, I was one of those shell-shocked moms. I never, EVER imagined that my son's life would take a bad turn. I was so ignorant about drugs. I mean, I knew about drugs. Heck, when I was a teenager, I puffed the magic dragon-- so to speak. That was in the 70's.  But, I really didn't care for drugs.  I never got into dropping acid, either. I guess those movies, that were shown to me in middle school, scared me to death.

As a divorced mom, I did my best to raise my son with manners.  I tried to be a good role model, as a mom.  In retrospect, I wasn't perfect. But who really is?

I never thought about my kid messing around with pills.  Honest!  I had never even heard of oxycontin, until my son confessed to be that he was addicted to them.  Heroin? Oh, c'mon!  Not my son!  He's a clean cut kid. I knew all his friends. They were all clean cut kids, from nice families. Right?

Wrong.

It has been almost five years since I became the mother of a drug addict.  There will be no cause to celebrate.  While I never expected anything like this to happen, I've had to face that this is the way it is.  In a strange way, my son's drug addiction has made me a better person.  Wait. Did I really say that?

What I mean, is that I have learned to be less judgmental of parents.  Up until that fateful month of April 2008, I would have told anyone that if a kid becomes addicted to drugs, then the parents failed to raise them right.

What a stupid thought that was.  I was so wrong.

Several times a month, I receive emails from families, or even addicts, who tell me there story.  It's always heartbreaking for me.  I try to answer them back, as best as I can.  Yet, how can I possibly give them the comfort or advice that they so desperately need?

I'm not gonna lie.  Sometimes those emails just paralyze my brain and fingers from being able to write a good answer.  I type very, very fast.  I love to write.  But, these emails-- I just feel so sad for them.  Yet, I am honored that they would write to me-- telling me that this little old blog helps them.

Every single Sunday, as I sit and listen to our pastor-- who is one incredibly gifted speaker-- sharing powerful messages, and helping me to better understand the Bible... truly, I feel so inspired and uplifted.  I actually find myself drafting a blog post.  I can't wait to go home, open up the editor of this blog, and share with anyone who will read this blog.   I want to share with them the hope I've found, in my faith in God!

But then, it seems that I can't write.  I get distracted with wanting to read, or doing chores, or cooking and baking (one of my therapeutic passions).  So, I don't write.

I have not responded to a few emails that were written to me in the last two weeks.  I need to do that, and I will.

I admire Ron, from "An Addict in my Son's Bedroom".  Ron found my blog, a few years ago.  At that times, his son (Alex) was in the throes of his addiction to heroin.  I mean, it was bad.  Ron was there, for me, lifting me up during my darkest times.  There were other bloggers, like me, who would visit my blog.  They helped me to get through so much.

So, I feel a bit guilty that I'm not being like Ron.  But, I shouldn't feel that way.  Ron has a great way of writing, and I am happy to say that his son is clean and has turned his life around. Yet, Ron continues to share his message at schools and on his blog.

I am writing this post, because I finally logged on to post comments that have been waiting for my approval (I get too much spam, so I have to moderate this blog.)    I'm not going away for good.

I need to regroup and think about how I can be of some comfort to those of you who follow my blog. To those of you who have written to me, personally, and I have not answered you-- forgive me.  I have not deleted your emails.

I'm going to try and compile responses and post it right here...because the majority of you are desperate, and heartbroken, and you don't know how to save your loved one.

I know that feeling.  I wish I could give you an easy answer.  You need support from people who really understand addiction.

I'm sorry, but I need to end this post, because I have piles of laundry to do and bedtime comes very early for me on work nights.

My son is almost one year clean.  He has the same job. I will say this-- every single friend that he had, who he used with-- they are out of his life. Gonzo.  He doesn't hang out with anyone who uses drugs. Amen for that.