My 24-hour Rule, Peace Comes

I have what I call my "24-hour Rule". I have a short-fuse. I attribute that to my life as a kid-- being a victim of physical beatings from my father, and from watching or hearing my mother being smacked around by my dad. I had to suppress my anger at the helplessness of my situation. I could not defend myself against my father-- he was bigger, he had a black belt in karate and he scared me when he was mad. My mother (God rest her soul) was a very willful mom. In other words, she was very controlling. Both of my parents would fly off the handle, and I never knew what would come my way-- a slap, a fist, a belt, a wooden cooking spoon or the dreaded German "Rug Beater" made of reeds.

I have prefaced this explanation, because I believe that this is the root cause of my lack of patience and/or short-fuse. For most of my life, I had an anger management problem. Fortunately, I have been able to control these childhood afflictions about 98% of the time. I give the Glory to God for helping me to control my temper. One of my coping mechanisms, when I feel angry or frustrated, is to enforce my 24-Hour Rule. In other words, if I am feeling angry about something, it's best to leave me alone to sort through it. The next day, my anger has subsided and I can think a lot more rationally. In retrospect, I wish I had discovered this effective tool a long time ago.

Yesterday, I was had reached a boiling point of frustration with my son and his addiction. My blog, from yesterday, reflects how angry I felt. It felt very therapeutic for me to write down how I feel-- to journal my emotions, in the raw (so to speak). They were very real, but I also knew that within 24 hours, my anger would dissipate. That is what I mean by my 24-hour rule-- it means that "this, too, shall pass".

I do believe that there is a time for healthy anger-- I tend to think of Jesus when he got so angry at how the merchants in his Father's temple. Jesus was angry at how sacrificial animals had turned into a profit-making business. Our Lord was angry, for a good reason. To me, my anger (yesterday) was also for good reason. I was angry at Brian's addiction-- the lies, the denial and the betrayals that come with this terrible demon.

Today, I am feeling better. I needed to go to sleep early. I am thankful that the Lord gave me a good night's sleep. My job has been especially stressful and busy. It didn't help that I was watching the students at the high school, where I work. There were several hundred teens watching a student sponsored event. The kid were listening to their music and I realized that this is the same music my son listens to. I noticed a tall, thin teenage boy and I was struck by how much he resembled my son. The tears hit me, with such an unexpected force, that I almost had a meltdown. I had to find a private place to get through the pain I felt. Sometimes, I try too hard to be strong. It takes a lot to make me cry, and I don't like to do that in front of anyone. I think that I cry in private, because my mother was a pro at crying in front of people-- it was her way of trying to manipulate me with guilt.

I am a very strong person, most of the time. I wasn't always that way, though. I believe that I get my strength from my faith and trust in God. I could not have the kind of courage that I need to cope with what my son has been through-- his car jacking, his addiction, he diabetes and his inability to build basic life skills-- without calling on God's promise that he will never leave me nor forsake me. I still marvel at that miracles in answered prayers that God has blessed me with. Every single day, I give glory and thanks to God. My strength is His strength.

So, today, I am feeling a little better than I was yesterday. I just received a phone call from B. Our conversation was short, but maybe there is new hope. B said to me that he's been thinking about the Sober Living Environment home I found out about. It's run by a church, in my area. It's a one-year commitment. Yesterday, B wanted nothing to do with the idea. Today, he said he's considering that this program might just be the answer. Thank you, Jesus!

Of course, I don't know if space is available. If space is available, my son will have to convince the couple (who runs the program) that he is committed to working the program.

B and I talked about a few important matters. I am not ready to share what they were. Suffice it to say, I truly feel as though I am letting my son make his own decisions on what he's going to do. I am not meddling, at all. I haven't called my son-- he's been calling me.

I'm still feeling very tired and in desperate need of some quiet time just for me. When my phone rings, I just don't want to talk about my son. That is why I've started to blog again. It truly is easier for me to express how I am feeling, how I am doing and how B is doing right here.

I feel as though I am sharing this journey with my loved ones, and strangers would might be experiencing what I am. I am also finding therapy in writing how I feel. It's as though I can unload my pain, frustration and anger without lashing out at the people I love.

I have received a few private emails from a few of you. Please know, that your support is also very healing to me.

Thank you.

Uncontrollable Sense of Disgust. What happened to integrity?

This is the part where anger sets in. I am sitting at my desk, feeling completely frustrated and helpless.

B called me, this morning. He's smuggled in his cellphone-- and that already sets me off. How dishonest is this? He says that the treatment center wants to keep him 1-2 weeks. He wants just a few days. No matter what, the insurance runs out after 15 days. That's it!

He is in total denial of his problem. I told him that there are places that offer a free one year program. He balked at that, saying "one year!" "One year is too long a time".

Now me-- a non-addict mom, who thinks she's got a lot of common sense could only reply back to him, "one year is NOTHING, compared to the rest of your life to come".

What frustrates me, to no end, is how easily influenced B is. He believes the STUPID tales that his friends tell him. These are STUPID, burned-out, irresponsible drug addicts! One of his STUPID friends told him that the year he spent in rehab, at a Christian-based program, was the "hardest year of his life". Well no kidding, Sherlock! This "Friend" of his is still on subutex...after one year! Hello? To me, B's sobriety begins when he doesn't need pills to help him not use opiates. Am I missing something, here?

Both this guy and my son are opiate addicts. Hello? Opiates is not kid's play. It's poison. It's evil. It gets into their brains, and it robs them of every thing that that they have. His addiction has turned my son into a devious liar-- one who oozes sweetness and charm.

B still thinks that, after a few days, the poison will be out of his body and he'll be just fine. He's an idiot, for thinking that. I have no doubt that my son needs ONE FULL YEAR, living in a place, where former addicts-- who are clean and sober, and who are committed to the 12-steps-- will set rules and the kind of structure and stability that B needs.

These programs, as far as I have found, are all Christian-Based. My son is a "believer", but he's not a follower. He really wants to have a relationship with God, but on my son's terms. B has allowed his addiction to lie and deceive him-- and that is what the Prince of Darkness is all about.

Yes, I'm really angry right now. I'm angry at B's addiction. I'm angry at being lied to. I think what I am most frustrated with is my son's lack of integrity. I have such a mixture of emotions-- anger, disgust, frustration, disappointment and distaste...for how easily he lies about EVERYTHING!

I work at a high school, for crying out loud. I've had students lie to me. But, I am his mom, and I am someone who loves him and is trying to help him. I cannot believe that this precious baby boy-- the child that I desperately wanted-- can look right at me and LIE. He has manipulated my love for him, but it's getting really old. I've had to resort to calling his dad, or his best friend, to get the TRUTH. What I get are different stories... then my own son gets mad at ME for calling and telling on him.

I'm telling you-- addiction is so evil and dirty. Addicts will LIE. Sadly, the addiction lies to them. DENIAL is what my son is in, right now. Frankly, I feel like he expects his parents to "fix him" and to take care of him.

At this point, I'm so far removed from this third bout of him trying to come clean. He will never be clean if he continues this stupid illusion that he can do this on his own. He wants to call the shots-- he wants his own apartment, his stupid X-Box, his car. He wants all the material things, and his friends, and girls, and golf-- he cannot see that there is a 2000 pound gorilla named "addiction" in the room with him. It's right there, and all of us can see it. It will take him down-- and ultimately ruin the rest of his life-- possibly robbing him of his life, prematurely.

Yes, I'm angry. I had to get this out. I'm tired, I'm stressed, and I'm so through with my son being the "victim".

That's where I'm at with Brian, and I am heart-broken. I'm angry, and this is all part of the painful process. I am grieving for my beautiful boy that I once knew.

My God is an Awesome God

B called me right before my lunch break. He sounded depressed and said that he was not feeling well. He was out of subutex and said he was "feigning" to use heroin. For the first time, I began to feel panic. That's what addiction does to those who love the addict-- it tears us to pieces. B said that there still wasn't a bed available for him.

I took my lunch break a few minutes early, and I called his treatment center. On the first ring, the man I knew answered the phone. A bed had just become available! He said he'd call me within an hour if they could take B in for detox. The call came, and he was "in".

I got a call at 4:15pm that his friend had dropped B off at the treatment center. What a relief! I was told he'll be there for 5-7 days. The goal is to get B's poison out of his system and to wean him off subutex, completely.

I am very proud that B made the decision to go in, and that he checked himself in. I told him that I was not going to visit him, on Sunday, unless he wanted me to. He responded that he didn't think that would be necessary. I also told him I was not going to call him. If he wanted to talk to me, he knew how to get hold of me.

The rest of the day, I could only thank Jesus over and over again. I still marvel at God's grace and mercy on me, and on B. I am so thankful that he is getting the help that he needs. He'll be immersed into the 12-steps again, going to group and individual counseling.

I pray that, this time, B will have his system cleaned out and that he will serious and that he will take the fragile state of his sobriety with a lot more care.

One day at a time...

The Waiting Game...

I don't have anything HUGE to report. B called his treatment center and there are no beds available. So, he is waiting for an opening. There aren't many other options here, at home. Once place offers outpatient treatment only. He could check himself into a hospital for detox-- fortunately B isn't nearly in as bad of shape as he was six months ago. So, it is possible they would not admit him.

So, the waiting game begins. Hopefully, a bed will become available for my son.

Until then, I am guess that he's buying Subutex from his friends, to keep him from going into withdrawals.

I can feel my back & shoulder muscles tightening up into "stress knots". I am trying not to worry, because it's futile. It is what it is, and the best course of action is for me to pray that God will show B the way.

B is leaving at his father's house. It's better this way. No matter what, I cannot stand seeing my son laying around and doing nothing. It goes against everything that my mother taught me. Nor, can I afford to be nickel and dimed to death.

While I want to believe my son, I have an instinct that he hasn't quite told me all of the truth. That's what addicts to best. They lie. They are highly convincing, but they lie. It's just part of the whole addiction process.

I do know this-- my son loves me, and I'm secure in that. He knows that I'm not stupid, though. So, that's why he hasn't ask to live with me.

So, I wait.

A son's confessions to his mom

B showed up, with his father, at my house around 8:00pm. I could see that B’s eyes had resumed that hooded look. It’s like his addiction had sucked the sparkle right out of my son’s life again.

B asked me to go outside, while he lit up a cigarette. It was déjà vu to last April, where he started to cry. I knew, with a maternal instinct, that this was not an act. He is deeply remorseful and ashamed. This is what he told me:

He said that his father left for Oregon the same time I left for Hawaii. B’s car is still in the shop, so he has no transportation. Boredom set in—and he reminded me that this is a very vulnerable position for addicts to be in. He says that he was invited to go to a party (…said the serpent) and he ran into someone from his drug past. This person offered B some “black” (heroin) to smoke. B says that he didn’t feel much and then went home. He says that the next day he called this “Messenger of Satan” who was happy to come over and “front” more drugs to B. The two of them smoked three times that day and then the following. So, B says that for three days he smoked heroin and that the high was back just like before.

This is exactly what B’s treatment center educated my husband and me about. We were told that should B relapse, that his brain would immediately pick up where he left off. So, B realized he had messed up and he bought some subutex from a friend.

As a mom, all of this felt a bit surreal. I can honestly say that I am not emotionally devastated. I guess that B’s treatment center prepared me for the inevitable—I knew that B only had a 3% odds of staying sober. My feelings weren’t of anger—as a mom, my only thoughts are to get B in for help as soon as humanly possible.

B wanted to wait until this Friday to go in for detox. It didn’t take much for him to agree with my plea for him to go first thing today (Monday). He agreed to do so, and then he broke down into more sobs. I can tell you, that the guttural sobs from someone who is going through withdrawal is enough to tear your heart out. My husband—who is THE most wonderful and compassionate person—came outside. B looked at him, and told him he was ashamed and sorry. My husband was 110% compassionate and supportive.

B and I talked about options. I won’t write anything, further, because I need to trust that God has prepared the way for him to go. As soon as I know, I will update my blog.

I do know this—my son admits that he was not working the program. He admitted that he thought he could so this on his own. The 12-Step program works, if you work it. You need a sponsor. He’s seen other friends clean up their lives without working the 12-Steps…however, each addict has their own story. My son is addicted to opiates. He says that oxy-contin is no longer his drug of choice. It’s heroin. It’s cheaper, and easier to get.

Be afraid, parents. Be very afraid.

Heavenly Father—your power and your glory is far greater than Satan. I pray that you have my son in your precious hands. Please, fill my son with your presence so that he breaks free of the Dark One’s lies. He is deceptive. He is evil. He wants my son. Only you, Abba Father, can make the devil flee.