Sins of the Parents (Part 3)...are they passed on to our children?

BEFORE I CONTINUE MY STORY:

It's been a challenge to find time to continue sharing my personal testimony with the faceless friends, those who stumbled onto my blog and to myself.  My husband asked me why I have taken this direction on my blog.  That's a good question, considering that I originally started this blog to share updates on my son's initial stint in a drug rehab facility.  Over time, my blog became a place where I would purge my feelings of anger, helplessness, frustration and despair.  It took a while, but eventually I began to cultivate some regular supporters-- and I will never forget how much I appreciated that.


Today, my blog is taking on an entirely new flavor.  Gone are most of the rantings of a mother who couldn't cope with my son's drama.  It's interesting that, with my new direction, most of my past supporters have stopped commenting as well.  I've found peace with that. I'd like to think they've stopped visiting my blog because I seem to be coping just fine with my son's addiction, and his struggle to maintain sobriety. I wish I could say that's 100% true. I still have my moments when I am afraid for my son. I have my days when I feel frustration at my son's procrastinations.  I still feel resentful when my son isn't truthful with me.  I can still see addictive behavior.  So, yes, continued encouragement and support is always appreciated.  


I do want to say that I do read every comment, and every email that is sent to me privately.  I want you to know that my heart aches for you. I do say prayers for you. For now, I have no intention of abandoning my blog.  It is my hope that the audience I reach are those of you who are needing hope and encouragement.  I'm here to give it to you, as best as I can. 

Why am I sharing my testimony?

If anyone has completed their 12-step program, sharing your testimony is a requirement.  At my church, we have a Celebrate Recovery program-- and if you can find one, I highly recommend it.  Yes, it is Christian-Based, but I make no secret that I am a Jesus loving Christian.  Likewise, when someone becomes a Christian, it is recommended that we have a 3-minute testimony (story) to share on how and why we became a Christian.  I've honed my story down to that, and have shared it with plenty of people. They are usually amazed at my positive attitude when I share some highlights of what I've been through.  Here, I'm not honing down my story.  I'm being honest with all of you--and myself.

Another reason I am sharing my testimony, is that I can see so many of my own traits in my son.  Some of my own traits that I've passed on to my son make me cringe. This is why I'm sharing my story...  (To read Part 1, click here.)


I had been living on my own by the age of 18.  I never returned home, because I managed to make ends meet. Fortunately, I inherited my mother's work ethics, and her ability to scrimp and save money.  I had a social circle of friends that found plenty of time to party, and I fit right in.  At that time, I was a travel agent, so I got to jet-set all over the world.  Good times. Great memories.

Relationships with my parents:

My relationship with my father wasn't the best. I was bitter, and unforgiving towards him, for all the beatings and physical abuse our family had endured.  He went on to remarry a much younger woman-- but that was short-lived.  He never married again, but lived with a few women.  I tried to bond with him, but it never quite happened.  My father became a Christian around 1983, and he mellowed with age. I believe he regretted a lot of things that he had done, and he wanted me to spend more time with him. He died in 1986 of cancer.  Shortly before his death, I decided to forgive him and I am glad that I did.  It wasn't until after his death, that I found out that my father had been sexually abused as a young boy, by his uncle.  I believe that explains why my father had so much rage inside him-- and it didn't help that  he killed the "enemy" in World War II.  What a pity that he never quite found a way to let go of that.

Mom and I had an on again-off again type of relationship.  I loved her, but I didn't like her. She was very controlling and highly critical of me.  In retrospect, I believe she was living her life vicariously through me. She wanted me to be successful, because she so believed it would be a positive reflection on her.  Why do parents do that?  I never felt as though I could meet up to her expectations.  I never had that mother-daughter relationship that I've seen so many of my girlfriends have with their own.  I could write a book on my mother-- I'd title it "The Mother's Book of Guilt"...or something like that.

Part 2 (Marriage to my son's father)

I was 24 years old when I met my son's father.   I fell deeply in-love with B's father (I will call him "W").  He treated me with kindness and generosity.  After my miserable first marriage, I felt liberated.   W wasn't controlling at all, which was in stark contrast to my first husband-- who was possessive and jealous, and unfaithful.   I can still clearly remember the time that W told me that he loved me.  This was the first time, in my life, that anyone had told me that I was loved. Ever.  I remember that I started to cry.  It took a while, but I finally mustered the courage to tell him that I loved him. From then on, we told each other that all the time. I was euphoriant!

W had his own businesses, and was fine with me continuing my social life with my girlfriends. Eventually, I got into horses and I would travel all over the state of California to compete in horse shows. Life was good!

It was an adjustment for me to accept his offer to move in with him and his widower father.  I grew fond of the old Scotsman.  We married four years later, and had a wonderful honeymoon to England and Scotland. I'm going to fast-forward a few years later, where his father sold his home and the three of us moved to a beautiful place in the country.  It was my dream house-- swimming pool, acreage for my herd of three horses.  In looking back, I led a very privileged life.  My son was born five years after we were married, in 1988, and I was smitten with my newborn.

Sadly, cracks in our marriage weres beginning to show.  Shortly before I got pregnant, W told me he didn't love me anymore.  I was devastated.  Now that I look in that rear-view mirror of life, I can see that we had grown apart.  I had become my mother-- willful, controlling and negative. Bottom line, I had become self-absorbed and I couldn't even see it.

My rear view mirror reveals to me that, at first, I loved all the freedom that W allowed me to have.  I finally realized that it was to W's benefit.  With my being busy with my own projects, he could spend all of his time in his race car fabrication business, while running another retail business.  I began to feel abandoned.  It became profoundly noticeable, to me, when W wasn't attentive to me during my pregnancy. I went to all of my doctor appointments alone. I went through labor alone.

During my pregnancy, my mother had become angry at me for something really stupid.  Therefore she didn't speak to me for the last three months of my pregnancy, and refused to come to my baby shower nor to the hospital while I was in labor or when my son was born. Consequently, I came home with a newborn and had nobody to help me learn how to care for my son. W took off to work on his race cars. My mother was nowhere to help. I do believe that it was at this point, that our marriage had taken a turn for the worse-- and so had my life.  This is when I began to throw my own pity party.

So, here I was with a young child.  I got to be a stay-at-home mom, thank goodness.  B became the center of my universe.  My horse shows came to an end. Some of my friends, who didn't have children, abandoned me-- or so I felt.  Maybe it was I who had abandoned them?  Who wants to hear me talk ad nauseum and child rearing?

By the time B was 2 years old, I'd grown a bit weary of watching Sesame Street and I felt my son was ready to have a social life.  W wanted me to go back to work. I found a woman who ran a private day care, and so I decided that I would work at W's retail store-- to help him out, so he could spend more time with the race cars.

A new chapter in my life was beginning-- and this one was huge.

Part 3 to come. I've written enough, for today.

Update on my son:
I don't make claims on my son's sobriety.  That is, I'd like to think he's clean.  All signs indicate that he is-- he has a hearty appetite. He's on suboxone, and that seems to be his key on staying clean. He's still working at the same job, and he loves it.  He struggles with finances, but that's mostly because he eeks by on working an average of 30 hours per week as a busser at a restaurant.  We continue to collect rent of $400.00 a month from him. That may sound steep to some of you, but it's less than the average $500-$600.00 he'd pay for just a room.  That rent provides him a room and board.  We continue to pay for his medical insurance and doctor visits, which exceeds the rent he pays.  His attitude remains very loving and respectful towards us.

He is, though, far from ready to fly from the nest. If we were to kick him to the curb, today, he'd be living in poverty.  Such is the dilemma for so many parents-- whether their kids are drug addicts or not.  Unemployment is still a major concern, and my son's work has called him "off" for the last two weeks.  The cost of living, in our part of California, is astronomical.   So, for now, I continue to ask my husband to let B stay-- as long as he continues to pay rent and sets aside savings-- and, of course, no drugs.

His drug friends, of the past, are out of his life.  He still doesn't go to meetings, and I've stopped suggesting it.  He's working his own program, and that is what I have to let him do.

Thank you, if you are still reading this.  Once I finish my story-- which will take 2-3 more installments, I hope that my purpose for doing so will make sense to any of you who are still following me.

Hindsight is 20/20 vision - Wheeling & Dealing

 Yesterday, I spent a great deal of time with my son.  It started with meeting him at McDonald's for a quick breakfast. Foodie that I am, I rarely eat fast food; there are days,though, when an Egg McMuffin just does the trick.  My son ordered three of them, and a glass of orange juice-- and he ate them with relish. I nibbled on one of them, just taking in the presence of my son. His eyes look normal, and not the dull look he once had.

FLASHBACK:  I am a single mother, trying to raise a seven year old boy on no alimony or child support.  I was self-employed, and had a 2-year lease on my business site.  Eating out was such a rare luxury for them, at that time.  How times have changed, I thought to myself, as I paid the bill without blinking an eye.

Back to breakfast-- my son was really, hungry.  We talked about anything and everything. I've noticed that conversation flows so much easier, now. Our relationship is better than it's ever been, but it's taken 8 years of drama to get where we are, today.  Seeing my son, at that moment, fills my heart with so much gratitude and love for him.  I feel as though my son is listening to me-- and that he values my opinions. I try not to give my opinions (of which I have many) unless he asks.  I try to relate with him, and at how wreckless and irresponsible I was at his age. My son told me he was broke, because he didn't get much work. He showed me receipts that he paid to get his car fixed.  He showed me his pay stub-- $400.00 for three weeks of work. Ouch. When it rains hard, there's no one using golf carts-- so he gets time off, without pay. He never asked me for money.  He was sharing his financial dire straights with me, and I didn't feel any kind of manipulation.  This is a new road we are on!

My son admitted to me that he is trying to be better in managing his blood sugars. The meter he is using is old and I told him I'd buy him a new one. I also decided to spend $50.00 on groceries for him-- just some basics and a few pantry ingredients he can use to make easy recipes. My son is too thin, and needs to eat healthier foods. My son is also earning how to cook, which makes me very happy!  He was very grateful. When he got off work, at 5pm, he came to my house and off we headed to the shopping center.  Using the dwindling trust fund he has, we bought about $100.00 worth of groceries and things he needed for his apartment.  I could see my son pick something up, on impulse, think about it and then put it back.  The same thing happened when shopping for clothes-- my son, who snubbed anything but designer clothes-- picked out a dress shirt, pants and the least expensive belt, on sale. I offered him a pair of dress shoes (knowing he didn't have any), and he picked out the cheapest pair he could find.

This is my son-- who used to have a closet stuffed full of designer clothes and a wide array of expensive shoes! This is my son who has bought and sold at least a half dozen different video game machines-- not to mention dozens of games, themselves! When I'd question where he got the items, I got answers ranging from "my dad bought them", so "I traded something for them" and even "I sold my video games".  Big red flags, that I didn't know how to handle. Maybe, even, I didn't want the confrontation. Sound familiar?

Here's a hint to parents, whose kids suddenly come home with things you don't remember buying for them--  your son just might be selling drugs.  I never imagined my son would resort to this, but he did. He's even admitted to me that there was a time he he remembers seeing me crying. I could not afford to pay my rent, and I had no idea how I would provide for my son and me.  I was falling apart with fear and worry. B told me he felt bad, because he had a couple thousand dollars, in cash, stashed in his closet.  He said he wanted to give me money, but he didn't know how to explain how he got it. Worse, he still expected an allowance from me!

In order to fund my son's growing addiction to oxycontin, he got involved in dealing in on a very large scale.  My son was 16 years old, and had just gotten his license and a car.  The car was paid for from his trust fund-- it cost $5000.00.   By the way, my son kept his curfews.  He always checked in with me. Drug Dealers are very crafty.  I never even knew what my son was up to. He was very good at living a secret life. If I got too close to the truth, he'd become verbally combative. Sometimes the fights would escalate, I'd blow my cool and tell my son to leave... or to move in with his dad, if he was with me.  HINDSIGHT: That's an addicts technique-- blow up, get angry and move attention away from the issue. If they can make YOU feel like you're the hysterical idiot, they won.  They diverted getting busted. Listen to me! I know this!

I've mentioned before, that I work at a public high school.  I hear the rumors, from faculty, that a certain student is suspected of drug dealing.  Some get caught, others seem to slip away from being busted.  What I notice is that their cellphone is always going off. 

Parents-- Let me recap the clues that I didn't pick up on.  My son confirms how much I missed-- and he got away with this for four years.  He started selling weed, at the age of 13.  He said, had I looked hard, I would have found the scale, the baggies and maybe even a stash of money.

• If your student is failing school, wake up!  Contact each teacher, and ask why their student is failing.  If the teacher doesn't call back (or doesn't reply to emails), then contact your student's counselor.  If you still don't get a response, then go to the principal.  At my high school, parents get responded to.
• If your high school (or middle school) has your student's grades online, be sure that you check the grades.  I am appalled at how many parents don't bother to check, online!  Our software program will even email a weekly progress report-- or daily, if you set it up that way. Ask!
• Many high schools send automated "absence" calls.  If possible, ask the attendance office to send the calls to your cellphone. Kids are known to intercept phone calls, and mail. Stay on top of it!
• When you ask your kid why they aren't doing well in school, the odds are they will lie.  My son always had an excuse-- "Oh, the teacher fixed that grade."  "The teacher lost my homework, but he/she is fixing it".  "The teacher hates me". "I lost my assignment".  If your kid is using drugs, they are going to learn how to lie so convincingly that you will believe them. Keep looking, and hold your kid accountable.
• Why does your kid need a cellphone? Check the bill!  Remove texting, thank you very much.  Texting is a secret world, in high schools.  When staff confiscates a cellphone, students become hysterical. Admin reads the texts, and have discovered a lot of things this way.  In looking back, my son was constantly on his cellphone.  It was his "office".  Had I looked, he had TONS of phone numbers. Take the cellphone away!  They'll hate you for it, but it's a small start.  It won't solve the problem, but why enable it?

I'll stop here, for today. There's so much more to cover-- like signs I missed that were clues that my son was high/using.  The things I wish I hadn't said. The things that just didn't work. The tricks my son played on me that convinced he was clean-- and he wasn't.  So much more to come...

To those of you parents who can relate to what I've written-- what clues did you miss?  Please share them, in comments, so that we can help others who are so new to this Dark World.

NOTE:  I received a comment from someone who wondered if my son is lying to me, and he's really using. Here's my honest answer-- there are no guarantees that my son isn't using and hiding it. Addicts are very clever.  I do believe that my son is clean-- only because of methadone-- and because I see clear signs in the things my son says, the way he dresses, the gansta slang is gone, and the fact he has no friends. He's lonely. I cannot leave each day in fear.  I leave each day in hope.

God's magnificent work and one of many lovely email of encouragment

I'm feeling better. Much better. So much better, that I'm feeling the despair being snuffed out, and am able to laugh again and feel thankful.

I am going to try and keep things brief, tonight.  I'm going to be a little cryptic.  I will divulge more details when it feels right to do so. You see, I think I had to step back from the way I blog. I admit, that I had fallen into my old ways-- part of my insecurities-- a need to feel "accepted".  I invested too much value in wanting to please everyone who is reading my blog. If someone left a comment that might be contrary to my values--  I took it far too personally.

I thank Madison and Fractal Mom-- I truly do.  These are two women who come from the voice of wisdom. They wrote lovely emails to me, to help me understand that I people don't mean to hurt my feelings. They care. I understand them.They are right.

Tonight, I want to share things that I see as a blessing-- completely and totally God's work.  B called me, yesterday, He was upset. Really upset. His roommate "M" called to say he was going into a five month rehab, his parents paid one month's rent and he was gone. Literally, M is gone from the apartment. Of course, the two of them are on the lease-- and I will investigate the legalities of this...but he's gone. Halleluia!

B was freaking out-- "what am I going to do"? "How will I pay the rent?"

All I could do was smile, over the phone. I felt such joy!  I've been praying that God would sever that dysfunctional friendship. You see, "M" had just starting shooting heroin-- about a week ago. He was stealing my son's insulin pens and was totally strung out. That's why B was asking to hang out at our house, because he didn't want to go to the apartment.  We didn't let him stay with us, of course.  B was distraught, because he says he doesn't want to use. He's supposed to have his intake on Monday morning, for methadone. I have nothing to say about this. My son is 21, and that's the way it is.

I think this is wonderful! M is going to rehab, and I will pray for him.  My son is free from living with someone who is bipolar, an alcoholic, a thief, violent and now-- a heroin addict.

I decided to pull some money from B's trust account to buy groceries for him.  B has been hungry for almost two weeks.  I made this decision, now that M is gone-- who was eating all of B's food, and hanging out at home using drugs and making B's life miserable.  My son has the essentials he needs to eat, pack a lunch and that gives me some comfort.  I thought of my son, finally sleeping without M being drunk or keeping B up all night long.

This morning, I talked to B. He had gone from despair to hope.  He said he cleaned out the filth and drug paraphernalia-- the foil, the pipes, the needles.... he scrubbed and disinfected the toilet and scrubbed the bathroom.  I told my son that living alone is a good thing-- it will give B time to think. Quiet is wonderful for our souls-- we need to learn to be alone with ourselves. I've grown to appreciate my quiet times. They're sacred, for me.

My crisis a few days ago, was my son's horrible situation with his roommate and his boss.  His boss said some horrible things to him, and B had a fight with his roommate (over the drug use). B was sobbing, saying he felt like his life was a failure. He said he couldn't do anything to please his boss, withing being called a p***sy, or a f***king a**hole.  My son sounded so despondent. His sobs were so gut-wrenching that I wanted to hold my baby. But, he was not with me. It broke my heart, and that's when I wrote the 911 post for prayers. Thank you.

I think B is beginning to think in a direction of sobriety.  I say this cautiously.  B will see if he can get a studio apartment.  However, B said that if he gets fired-- and he's convinced his boss is setting him up to quit or to find a reason to fire him-- he would rather "go into a rehab" than live on the streets.

Yes.

I've asked B to give me space for a while. I told him that his drama is overwhelming my sense of peace. He agrees. I don't want a codependent relationship to start up-- and that's how I was starting to feel, again. Yesterday, my husband and I spent a wonderful afternoon driving to the downtown tourist area where we live-- a famous city on the coast of California.  We dined on a lovely lunch and talked. My cellphone was turned off.  We sat, at the ocean, and listened to the ocean-- smelling the sea salt, holding hands and kissing.   It was something that we haven't done in a while. 

Unfortunately, when we got home I heard Brian's despondent message and called him. B has sucked so much of my mental time away from being a wife.

All of last night, I kept smiling, because M is out of my son's life. This is important.  Now, the next steps my son takes is entirely up to him.

I'm sorry-- I haven't visited your blogs, dear followers and friends. I'd like to read what everyone's been up to. I will. I've spent this weekend with my husband, relaxing and going to church.

I'll try and reply to each email that I've received, over the week. Tomorrow, I will go to my first Nar-Anon meeting with Chai Latte'.

I'm feeling hopeful today.  Your prayers are definitely working. Thank you, and bless you.

I want to say that I'm deeply touched by the private emails I've received.  I can't say "thank you" enough.  I received one email, in particular, that really helped me to see that there are "faceless" people who read my blog...who say I've touched their lives. It made me cry, but they were tears of gratitude. I truly had no idea.

Here's one email that really lifted my spirits, that I'd like to share. I will keep the writer anonymous.

Hi Debby,

I'm sorry you are feeling hurt and judged. I read your last night's post, as I do every night. I feel disappointed when you haven't posted. I realized today that reading your posts has been my own personal therapy.

My son is 28 and in a methadone program. He's been taking methadone for 2.5 years, and he no longer uses heroin. He has earned 5 take-home bottles a week, so he has to go to the clinic only twice a week. It has been wonderful to see him slowly work on no longer lying, getting up just a bit earlier, moving away from the people, places, and things that were associated with his old life. But he still lives at home, and he hasn't yet looked for a job. You could say I'm enabling him. I am enjoying his sobriety and his gentle, intelligent company. When he was 5, he repeated kindergarten because we'd been living in another country and he wasn't ready. His teachers called it "the gift of time". That is what he is receiving again.

I think the bloggers who responded to you last night all hold you in high regard. I did not read the comments as judgmental, but just as the "from the heart" comments of people who are doing their best to live with the challenges that both addict and family members face.

I have read your blog every night for a year. It is the first thing I do after dinner. It has given us all strength. I know I could do things differently, but I have no doubt that seeing my son healthy (he has just given up smoking) and hopeful is worth it. Just go on being who you are.

Warm regards,

K

I had no idea, my blog made that kind of impact. Thank you, K.  It made me cry, but it was one of appreciation for your kind words. Bless you.

A message of hope from an addict

Good morning to my support family and friends,

I'm having a good week, and I'm thankful for it. Last night, I went back to my former Friday tradition of making a Happy Hour treat for my husband (C) and me to celebrate our weekend off. I start emptying out the fridge by making antipasti, cold cuts, fruit & cheese and a glass of white wine or a cold beer. We eat in the living room and talk about our week. We haven't done this in many months. We finished off the evening by watching an independent movie DVD and cuddling on the couch.

Do I miss my son? No. I'm enjoying a more tranquil home and bonding with my husband. I think of my son, all the time.

I received this email, and the author said it was okay to share this on my blog. Her words gave me hope, and I am happy that she has been able to regain a life of sobriety. I feel that her letter deserves to be shared with you, my readers...family...blogger friends:

Hi Debby:
My name is "c"; No one but a very small handful of people know this and it is still hard to speak about it yet I was a heroin addict for about 10 years in my late 20's to almost 40. I am 60 now and clean for over 20 years.
It seems like a lifetime ago. It is.
The reason I am writing is my heart cracked reading your blog. Addicts/users/dopers whatever the label is forget that family is affected more than anyone knows.
My comment to you is never give up on him. He is unique as his story is only his. I did not do AA/NA or any of the 12 step programs as I had an issue with giving myself up to others and since I started this journey by self I wanted to end it the same way. I felt (still do) feel they brain wash you; I know people who were clean for 17 and 19 years and missed meetings and got back into it. Yes, it does work for lots of people yet he is is unique.
I do not have a "birthday" and I do not remember the exact time I first stuck a needle into my arm; so I could not give it power and have a birthday for quitting.
i know for a fact that the time will come that he will be well and your sane son again. There will come a time that he will not think about what it felt like and there will come a time he will not remember that it was anything!!!
I almost lost the love of my 3 daughters; now I am a Grandma of 4 and they all love me.
My Mom (she is 100) forgave me and that was sooooooooooooo important to me.
Please know he is first your son and he will be okay when it is his time!!!
I read some of the comments; everyone, including me, have an opinion and believe me, he is lying to you and himself. He is not wanting to get caught; heroin addicts think they are slick.
Looks are just looks; an addict is an addict; preppy/homeless/surfer/skate border/waitress/comic/actress/girl next door are still addicts; if he thinks he is different or a free rehab will not work, it won't BECAUSE he is NOT ready!!!
I sold heroin and cocaine to support my habit and I had famous singers, musicians and actors as customers.
I take it you are a Californian as you spoke of him going to the Bay area; Northern Californian's say Bay area. I use to live in San Francisco (during the later part of being hooked) and what an easy place to be an addict.
I now live in Southern California and yes, I was hooked down here in the beginning. You take your addiction with you. It is NOT the city, the friends or a way of living. It is you (B).
These are my thoughts; I am a survivor of my own self made hell.
Yes, I o'd many times; emergency rooms, stomach pumped and so much that you do not need to hear.
Never give up; and do not loose yourself or your husband trying to save your son.
Yes, I am anonymous as I have a decent life with people that might just not like me if they knew of my past so I remain anonymous.
Take care
peace
c

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thank you, C, for sharing this.

I'm off to enjoy the day, with my husband, after tidying up my house a bit. We are expecting an unprecedented heat wave. We live in an area where air-conditioning is non-existent. I don't do well in heat! Yikes. While I don't miss my son living with us, I think of him constantly. When that pang of sorrow hits me, I practice "giving it to God".  I do not have the power to change my son's situation... but I have the power, through God's love, to find peace in my life-- even when the storms of life hit.

Praying for families of addicts, and for addicts who are struggling to find sobriety-- ONE DAY AT A TIME.

Just for today, what a cliche'

In my last post, I had mentioned that my son had tested clean. Many thank you's to my newfound parents of addicts and friends, who are visiting my blog and posting comments. Thank you!

I've been reading new bloggers sites where they describe the emotional roller coaster on being the parent of a drug addict. Sometimes I feel as though their stories mirror mine.

For those of you parents who are in the first stages of being the parent of an addict (that is, your child is going through Round #1 of rehab), I can see how naive I was then. Just reading my earlier posts, I can see how I thought my son could get "better". I guess it is our naiveté that makes us think that our kid will detox, go to meetings and this whole thing will go away.

Little did I know, that relapse is part of the process...again, and again, and again.

So, while I'm elated that B tested clean I am also very, very cautious about his sobriety. In some ways, it's like trying to lose weight. You have every intention of dropping the points on the weight scale. You start off eating healthier and exercising (I am speaking from personal experience, here). You keep a food journal. You say "no" when someone brings in a box of Krispy Kreme donuts. Little by little, that hunger in your brain craves sugar. Just a bite won't hurt. So, you start to nosh when nobody's looking. You skip a weight watcher's meeting.
Before you know it, you pull into Carl's Junior to get that bacon cheeseburger that you crave. In my case, I dont' eat fast food. It's dessert that is my caloric snare. It's like valium to me.

Bingo.

With my son, and opiates, he tells me that he has thoughts of using-- and he is in day #10 of not using opiates. He says that this is harder than I can imagine. I told him about my struggles to resist sweets (I have a strong sweet tooth). He paused, thoughtfully, and then nodded-- "yeah, mom, that's kinda how it is with me".

B and I have been doing a lot of talking. My car won't be repaired (mechanical problems) until Saturday. B has been getting up early to drive me to work. It's been a good chance for us to chat. Yesterday, for instance, he said he was feeling a lot of withdrawals. He curled up on his bed to sleep for a few hours, having tossed and turned all night long. His appetite is good, though. When B was using, his appetite was one of the first things I'd notice would wane.

Trust is something that is going to take a long time for B to rebuild in me, and his stepdad. I feel like a woman who has been cheated on by an unfaithful husband...over and over again. In October, I heard the whole script-- I screwed up. I'm sorry. I'll go into rehab. I'm clean.

I didn't read between the lines of his calls to me, from San Francisco, where he sounded so depressed. There's another clue that all is not well in B's world-- and that he's most likely using.

B was chipping in December, when we allowed him to come back home. That was an Oscar performance! He was good. He was going to meetings, but he was hanging out with his friends that he used with. All of them were fresh out of rehab.

Duh. I thought to myself, that didn't seem right. But, I believed "B" when he'd reassure me that his friends were all "clean". Ha!

So, here I am. Giving my unfaithful husband, aka "B" one more chance to stop deceiving me.

I have to be fair, though. I really don't think that my son plotted to DELIBERATELY deceive me. The addiction was too strong for him. He set himself up to fail-- hanging out with friends from his past. He was not ready to quit. He thought he could use a little, and though he had everything under control. These are his own admissions.

The addiction is bigger than us.

I live each day in the moment. Like so many parents of addicts, I long for a day when I don't have to think or worry about my son. I wish I could rewind back to my trip to Hawaii with my husband-- just last October. We were in paradise. Our cellphones were turned off. We were a couple, enjoying time together...holding hands, sleeping in, sightseeing... until the dream came to me at 3:00am. "My son is using".

Little did I know, until the day I returned home, that my dream was prophecy.

I try not to look back too much. What happened cannot be changed. I try to look back so see what signs I missed. What could I have done differently?

Wisdom is what I cling to. I need to learn all that I can about addiction. My husband doesn't want to spent anymore time on this topic. I understand. But, this is my son-- my one and only precious boy. I wanted to be a mother more than anything in the world.

I am here for him. It's what a loving mother does.

One day at a time... So, just for today, I am having a good day. I pray, each day, that B will be able to pass my random drug tests with flying colors. B is in good spirits today. He's busily trying to get add on codes from classes at our junior college.

That feeling in the pit of your stomach

While my friends, in the East Coast, are shivering from cold-- here I sit, in a library during my lunch break...just a few miles to the ocean. It's a gorgeous day, outside, but I need to journal and share my feelings and updates on how my son is doing.

I have a few new blogs that I've subscribed to, via RSS feed to my google reader (I just love that feature). The postings are just so sad and they are heart-breaking. While I feel a sense of companionship with other parents of addicts, I couldn't sleep soundly last night. I have posted links to a few of these blogs and I hope that other bloggers will post my link to their blogs. We need each other.

I am feeling on edge... with that feeling of "doom". I am struggling against that gut feeling that my son is not being completely honest with me, let alone himself.

Let me backtrack to Super Bowl Sunday. I am not a football fan-- not in the least. My son is a HUGE fan of football and my husband enjoys it. It's my tradition to make my special recipe for Chili and a few new dishes. I love cooking-- it's my therapy, passion and hobby. I decided to prepare Super bowl food so that my men could enjoy the game and feel pampered.

As I shared, yesterday, B joined us at church. Actually, it was B who led us to this church about three years ago. I had belonged to another one, but he promised me that this was THE church. Ironically, he has barely attended since we started going, but my husband and I attend every Sunday...pretty much.

While C was outside, working in the yard (on a gorgeous sunny day) I was inside doing my typical routine-- tidying, cooking and spending time on my laptop in spurts (I time myself so that I don't spend too much time online. If I'm not careful, I can waste too much time surfing the net.)

B felt chatty, and the next thing I knew, he was sitting across from me and we started talking... REALLY talking and LISTENING. I was telling B how I had discovered a family of bloggers and I shared some of their stories to them. He looked really sad and then his face changed to being very pensive. Our conversation led to me telling my son that I plan to share my blog with him, someday. I also encouraged him to journal his own thoughts. Maybe, I said, we can exchange journals one day. Maybe our journals can help us better understand the affect that his drug addiction has brought into our home and our lives.

Those of you who have a good relationship with your child can understand when I say that I felt a connection-- a moment where I felt that B was seeing me as a mom... a person who has wisdom and who genuinely loves him. He shared some very personal issues with me.

B told me all the wonderful hopes and dreams that he has. He said that he can hardly wait to start college (today). He said that he accepts that he won't be able to drive his car in a couple of weeks-- when his insurance lapses. He said that he plans to disconnect himself from any friends that he used drugs with (praise God). He said a lot of things, and they all sounded good.

But, that feeling in the pit of my stomach cannot help but wonder-- is he trying to talk himself into believing these things? Is he really going to do them?

I think that B really got the message-- that I had put myself out for my son...that my husband is willing for me to give B one very last and final chance. I think that B understands that I am not kidding. At that moment, I finally felt the tears come and my throat felt as thought it had completely closed.

"It's okay to cry, mom" he said.

I can't weep in front of anyone. I used to, a long time ago. At that time, I used weeping to impose guilt on someone. It was my way of saying "I'm hurt". I learned that from my mother, who was quite the Drama Queen.

But now, I cannot cry that easily. I seem to have gained supernatural strength to find composure when I feel sorrow and then the sense that I'm about to start wailing. I hear that it's highly therapeutic to have a good cry. Sometimes I wish that I could find a place to cry until I think there's no more air in my lungs. The last time I felt that way, was the day that I held my mother's hand and it was limp-- she was dying. She was taking her last breaths. That was in 2003. Sure, I've cried. But it lasts a nano-second and I prefer to do it in private. It embarrasses me-- and I wish it didn't.

That is not to say that I don't show my feelings. I don't think I'm a cold person. My eyes do water and the pain shows. I know that. But, I can't have a good cry-- yet.

Sorry. I got side-tracked again--

Before I went to to bed, B wanted to write three things that I reminded him needed to be done-- three things that are vitally important for him to take care of today.

Why do I have a feeling he isn't doing them? Here I am, working at a high school and loving my job. It's a gorgeous day. I have the most wonderful and loving husband. I have wonderful friends. I feel blessed. Instead, I feel worry creeping into me and my shoulders are turning into tight knots.

To you parents of addicts-- you know what I'm talking about, don't you? It's like we're waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I am going to test B very soon. Very, very soon. He says he's ready.

I'm scared to death that he will test positive.

That's when I have to do that hardest thing that any parent should NOT have to do-- second only to burying your own child.

I believe that these kinds of negative thoughts come from a Darkness. I need to cling to the hope that God loves us all-- and that he is the God of Hope.

Lunch is over. Time for me to get back to work.