Just a quick update on me-- not my son

I wanted to quickly post that today I am feeling hopeful (for my son) and I am adjusting to my son no longer living with me.  I can walk past his room and not feel a longing for him.

I am beginning to let go of my anxiety and fear-- and this morning, I had an overwhelming longing to hold my husband. My son has sucked the life out of my marriage. I'm blessed that C has been so patient with me, through all of this.  My marriage hasn't suffered collateral damage, but I have been remiss in being a wife. I've been the mom of a drug addict for so many months, that my husband has patiently stood by the sidelines.

I feel as though I can laugh again. I think of my son, often, of course. When I do, I literally say a silent prayer to God, telling Him that I cannot live in fear. If I live in fear, then I am telling God that I don't trust him.

Barbara-- I pray that you will receive this message, today. Trust God.

Tuesday night, I attended the first meeting for a Women's Bible Study. I absolutely loved it. I need to connect with more Christian women.  There is such power and healing in group prayer.  I have daily readings and studies to do, and I need that kind of accountability. Today, I will drive 3 miles to the ocean (I can't walk it due to my bad knee).  Overlooking the beautiful Pacific Ocean, with a view of one of the most famous golf courses in the world-- I will read God's Word and reflect on it.

I am going to focus on keeping myself spiritually, maritally and physically fit.

My son called me two days ago, asking if he could have my old lap top. I will give it to him, this weekend. C fears that my son will sell it. I don't-- it's old, slow and freezes often.  He is working at golf course, and he says he loves it.  I am happy for him, because he's a good golfer and he can play golf for free.

That's all I have heard from my son, since Sunday. He is alive. I am thankful that he isn't calling me. At this time, no calls is good news to me.

The first chance I get, I want to post some comments that have touched my heart. I've received some private emails, too-- and I will post them, hoping they will touch your hearts, too.

Special Delivery and reconnecting

I finally went back to bed at 3:30am and I got a little bit of sleep-- like 3 hours worth.  I am really struggling with this inexplicable back spasm/pinched nerve thing.  Tomorrow, I have an appointment with my chiropractor. Unlike my son, I will do anything to not take any kind of pain medicine.  Codeine makes me sick to my stomach, and I much prefer holistic approaches for pain. I've been alternating ice and heat and massage, but I'm still not 100%

I decided I needed to go to church, today.  Though it hurts to sit still for long, I love my church and I always walk away with an encouraging message.  I made two important decisions, today, but first--

My son. 

B called me after we have left church and had gone grocery shopping.  He sounded really depressed, and asked for me to look for his phone charger. His phone had been dead since last night. I had plans to do some cooking for the week, but my muscle spasms were rendering me pretty useless.  I decided to have my husband load up my son's box of clean clothes he left behind, some sugar-free sodas he loves (I rarely drink sodas) and I gathered up a few grocery items that I forgot to bring him. I headed back into town, which is only ten minutes away.

Let's pause  a moment-- I received a comment from someone who doesn't list an email, so I need to make a general response to the gist of it.  This is the part of the comment I want to address:

He's hungry because he lost his job and spent all his money. This is a magical moment in the life of a drug addict. Time to reflect on what drugs have done. Ah, wait, here comes mom to the rescue with milk, bread and supplies. Maybe next time B will learn what it's like to be hungry and not take responsibility for providing his own food.

I admit that I was, at first, a bit put off by the harshness of this comment. But, that's my ego speaking. I thought about it, and I can see that person's viewpoint. However, I want to say that I do not necessarily think it's enabling to provide food staples to someone who is broke (for whatever reason), and is a Type I diabetic.  Maybe that commenter doesn't understand the full impact of my son's tragic dilemma.  B is addicted to opiates and he is insulin dependent because his pancreas doesn't work. I've had people try to peddle miracle vitamins to us that will "cure" his diabetes. Sadly, many people don't realize that my would die without insulin. At this time, there is no cure for Juvenile Diabetes.

I did not deliver gourmet food, chips and junk food to my son. I could not, in good conscience, allow my son to be without any kind of juice-- in the event he hits a low blood sugar.  I do not give my son cash. Period. My son has a very modest trust fund that my mother left him. I am the trustee. I have made sure that this money will not be fully available to him until he turns 25. It isn't much, but it will be a little something. It's a good thing, or he would have smoked every penny of my mother's hard earned life savings.  Sometimes, I will use that cash to benefit my son-- like his rehab, his Sober Living Enviroment home and to repair his car so that he could get to and from his job...since it was too far to walk or there wasn't bus service. Unfortunately 75% of that trust fund is now gone... all for medical bills and rehab related costs that our insurance did not cover.

I own up to being co-dependent with my son, but I think I have made leaps and strides in saying "no" to my son. I doubt there isn't a loving mom on this planet who isn't co-dependent or who becomes "soft". However, I think I'm doing a pretty good job at setting boundaries. That is why my son no longer lives in our home.  Please, give me some credit!

So, back to my day.  I bought some basics so that my son can eat-- milk, bread, eggs and juice. I will take the money spent (under $50) out of his trust fund. He knows it, and he's thankful.

B looked better than I expected. He looked clean-shaven but very tired.  He's detoxing, he says, Day #3. That sounds about right. That would be the day after his Pay Day (his pattern).  He is very shook up about his friends' overdose. I will share more on that, at a later time. Not now.

He was thankful for the food and I handed him my letter.  He looked sad. He says that he can't read my letters, because they hurt too much.

I told him to do what he wants with the letter, but that I needed to share my honest feelings with him.

My son said to me, "I'm really trying, mom" (to quit using).

I looked at him, and I didn't know what to say.

Finally, I said that I had to go.  I asked him to call me, next time, with good news. I told him that I could not sleep after what he told me yesterday.

"Why?" he asked, incredulously...

He doesn't understand the impact his addiction has on our lives.  I hear that from addicts who leave comments-- like Angelo.  I hear that from Barbara, who faithfully leaves comments to me.

Addiction is so selfish, isn't it? 

Tonight, I'm feeling better that I saw my son. He's a good looking young man, I have to say. Behind those beautiful green eyes, and those thick long lashes of his, I see such sadness.  His beautiful and infectious laugh isn't there.

My son is detoxing on his own... again.  I can already see it-- his insomnia, lack of appetite and restlessness.

My two decisions I've made-- I am going to return to the Women's Bible Study Group at my church.  To most people, I seem as though I'm a confident and outgoing person-- on my own turf. Truth be told, I am a nervous wreck when I am put into a room full of strangers.  I fear rejection, you see. It's all about my insecurities from my childhood. I've blogged about this early on, when I started this blog. But, I will do this to work on my own self.

I also decided that I will try and return to Celebrate Recovery. 

I have blogged about why support groups, in my area, haven't work for me. I'm in a small town, folks. I've done Al-Anon and I walked away with an empty feeling. I cannot relate to alcoholism.  I cannot find an open meeting for NA that I can go to, where I live.  I have also blogged about the excellent classes that my husband and I attended at my son's treatment center. Yes, I know all about how important support groups and counseling are. I've logged my fair share of hours seeking professional counseling and I have attended support groups.  I think they work, if you can find a good group.

But, I will try Celebrate Recovery again.  Maybe, this time, I will find support in my own backyard.

I really need to reconnect with the Lord, and to build my spiritual faith.  I have a feeling that the Dark One is going to attack my family. My son is under spiritual attack.  I need to stay strong and to continue to trust God.

This week, I'm going to gear up to start blogging in more of a story line. I have not told my son's story, about how he even got started using drugs.

It's time that I do that.  I hope that my son's story will help others.  We need to stick together-- we parents of drug addicts. 

Please don't hesitate to leave comments for me. Even if they might sound harsh, I carefully consider what is said.   I just wish that some of you, at least, had an email where I could write back to you privately. I understand, though.  Many of us need to remain anonymous.

May the Lord bless you, and keep you-- and encourage your hearts.  I pray for all the addicts who are out there-- untreated and unable to find help.  I pray for a miracle for them.

In Jesus' Powerful and Holy Name.

Middle of the night, A Letter to my Son

Dear B,

I am deeply disappointed to hear that you lost your job. I pray that your new job will work out for you. Somehow, I am not surprised to hear that you were asked to resign, because you refused to take a drug test. You were giving me hints that there was something going on at work.

I have written numerous letters to you-- many were never given to you. They were my way of putting my thoughts and feelings down in writing. I was trying to free myself of what I was holding inside. I have also given you several of the letters I've written. At times, I found them in places that made me realize you never read them. I know that I write lengthy letters. It's my curse, in a way. I try to be articulate-- hoping that you will understand what I am trying to say. I have a need to feel understood and writing my feeings has always been my venue. With that said, let me do my best to get to the point in a lot less words. At least, I'll try:

I wish that you could see yourself, from my point of view.  You were saying to me that when you were loaded at work, that nobody could tell. You also said that people think you're loaded, but it's really that you were withdrawing and that you weren't loaded at all. Forgive me, but I think you are sadly mistaken.


The dichotomy in your explanation is that either way-- loaded or coming down, you are using drugs. Period.
You are right, in that I couldn't exactly tell when you were using. What I could detect, without a doubt, is that you were not the B that I know. I am your mother, and I have a six sense when something isn't right with you.

The changes that your stepdad and I noticed were:
•    Constant chattering, and repeating the same things.
•    "Hyperness"-- bursts of energy AND nonstop chattering.
•    Hooded eyes, slurred speech and slow comprehension. If I brought any of these to your attention, you always said you were tired.
•    Personal hygiene- lack of taking care of your clothes and showering.
•    Flaky lifestyle-- standing people up, and being late for everything.
•    Procrastination-- not handling your obligations and ignoring phone calls.
•    Your cellphone began to ring non-stop. I suspect you were reconnecting with friends from your drug past.

The obvious signs of withdrawal:
•    Lethargic attitude-- sleeping for hours on end.
•    Lack of appetite.
•    Irritability.
I have to be honest with you and tell you that you are not hiding your drug use the way that you think you are. I suspect that your co-workers and/or supervisors noticed it, too.

Until a few days before you moved out, I never suspected you of stealing money from anyone. I pray that you will never become desperate enough to become a thief.  I still cannot understand why you needed to take $40.00 from me, two days after your payday. I can only assume that it's drug-related-- whether it's a debt you owed someone, or a need to buy drugs. You never offered me an explanation.  Your lack of silence confirmed that it's something that would upset me.

I have to be completely honest with you about your current situation. I, sadly, must assume that you are using drugs.  Whether you are using 3 times a week, or 3 times a day, you are using. Period.

Until you finally admit to yourself that you are powerless against your addiction, you will live a life that will never give you peace of mind.  It is sad that you are addicted to a drug that has one of the lowest recovery statistics.  That does not mean that you cannot be victorious over this.

I love you with all of my heart, son. But you are in a total state of denial. You are lying to yourself, thinking that suboxone or a shot of whatever-that-is, or smoking weed, is going to save you.

The "if only's" aren't going to help you, either-- X-boxes, a new car, a new job, a new roommate... none of those things will help you to stop using opiates.  In fact, those "things" will be lost to your addiction, if  you don't do something about it.  You will lose job after job. You will sell those "things" that you think will help you with your addiction, in order to satisfy the need to use.  You could end up couch surfing and eventually being homeless. You know I'm telling you the truth-- you've sold everything you ever owned for opiates. You've been fired from several jobs.


I applaud you for the way you handled your current job for the first five months. You were well liked and you paid your rent to us, responsibly. I think that within the last month of your living with us, you were using a lot more than you wanted me to know.  I do think you began to miss work because of withdrawals towards the end.  Somehow, I think that's when your supervisors began to give you a hard time.We found foils tucked inside new magazines, and pants you had worn to work, you know. Those weren't old foils, no matter what excuses you made to us.

Son, it is 2:00am, and I cannot sleep.  I am, helplessly, watching your life spiral out of control again.  I cannot be the person to bail you out of trouble. You know that.  You and I have talked that the greatest fear is incarceration. Being locked up in a jail full of notorious gang members scares the hell out of you and me-- not to mention your diabetes and need for insulin injections.  Then what?  I am in no financial position to bail you out-- nor should I.  You have been blessed, so far, to have escaped being arrested for buying or selling drugs. Please, don't push your luck.

I've written more words than I meant to. I could write pages and pages to you, pleading with you to understand that you are so deeply loved by me, your father and God.  I am deeply saddened, knowing that your life must be hell. How can you feel joy, when you have so much unfinished business?  I'm saddened to see that you are unable to manage your life, because opiates are controlling you. Why are you hanging out with the same people you used with? I cannot understand that at all. 

When you finally make that decision that you no longer want to use drugs-- and you stop playing the victim and blaming everyone else for your own troubles, you will begin to find peace again.  You are too deeply addicted to opiates to do this on your own. You have tried to do this for 18 months, and have relapsed more times than I can count.

I think you need a professional treatment center.  If anything, I believe that if you work the NA program and find a sponsor that has been sober for a long time-- and doesn't have the kind of drama that your current sponsor has-- that you stand a good chance of finding sobriety and peace in your life.

I pray that this job will be a good outlet for you, son.  If you balance work and your sobriety (with the help of NA) you might begin to experience peace in your soul. It will be hard, though, because when you're tired you think of reasons not to go to a meeting.

I will never leave you, or forsake you, B-- as your mother. Neither will the Lord.  However, I have to let you reach your bottom.  I will support you, morally (not financially) should you go into a treatment center. If I keep bailing you out of trouble, you will never want sobriety enough to really seek it.  Every time I have helped you to pay off your debts, I have delayed any chance of your making the decision to end the crazy cycle of using drugs.

You know that.  Please, get professional help.  I am going to back to the Women’s Bible Studies on Tuesday nights at our church  and Celebrate Recovery on as many Wednesday nights as I can. Your sobriety will save your life. I want you to find peace in your life—joy, honor, integrity and to reconnect with God’s perfect light—so that the darkness can’t lie to you anymore.

I love you,

Mom


NOTE: I will deliver this letter to my son. I pray he will receive my words.

B's first call to me in six days...

NOTE: Three hours later, I am updating the "news" the bottom of this post:

I'm having some sort of pinched nerve pain in my upper back area. It's totally random, and I don't know why. I worked a 14 hour day, between my job at the high school and selling football tickets at the high school. It's fun, because I know most of the kids and it's a little extra pocket money. It was 10pm, by the time I got home, and I was hurtin'.  I took an Aleve and slept on ice (not fun) and woke up at 10am...actually, I was jarred awake by my husband calling to remind me to take another Aleve.

As I write this, I'm still feeling very groggy. It's 10:30am.

The phone rang, and it was B.

"Mom!" (loud, and excited voice).  "You won't believe what just happened to me!! It's totally craaaaaaaaazy!"" Oh, my God...!"

My heart leaps and adrenalin really jolts me to an awakened state.

"What??!!" I quickly ask.

(Background noise and muffled voice ).... my son is saying something like, "no, I don't have change for a $20.

I realize it's his roommate's voice, MA.   I hear them talking back and forth, and it sounds like it's over money.

"Let me call you right back, B" says and he hangs up.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

So far, the phone hasn't rung.

I picked it up to call back, and put it down.

No, this is B's constant drama.  I have to preoccupy myself with other things.

What happened to him?  Lord, I pray it's good news. Please, let it be good news.

It's a crazy life, isn't it, having a drug addict for a son?

Stay tuned...

It's 1:30pm. I want to throw up, I'm so heart sick.

I can't really talk about it, in depth.
#1 - a "friend" spent the night at their apartment and overdosed, snorting oxycontin and cocaine. B says he wasn't using, and didn't know the friend had it on him. An ambulance took him away at 7:30am, and he's alive.
#2 B was given the option to either quit or be fired from his grocery store job. They suspect he was high, some days, and so he is unemployed
#3 B starts his new job on the 15th. He's broke and hungry.

I'm going to bring him so milk, bread and juice (for his low blood sugars). He did not ask me for money.

Dear God, please give me strength.  I feel sick to my stomach...

To my loved ones-- please don't call me right now. I'm becoming an introvert, at this time. I need to process all of this. I have my Heavenly Father, my loving husband and wonderful friends and bloggers who are praying for us.

Thank you. Please pray for all of us.  It helps.

My first pangs of missing my son

It is Wednesday night. Today is my son's weekly payday. This time, he won't be paying rent to us. Instead, he is on his own.

Tonight, I am longing for my son. I'm wondering-- is he being wise and setting aside 1/4 of his paycheck so he has rent for next month? Or, is he getting loaded?

While making dinner, and walking through the house, I feel the silence. My son's boisterous laugh...the noise of his television, playing in his former bedroom ... his incessant chatter. It's so quiet.

My son and I have not called each other since Sunday morning-- except for B's quick emergency call to deliver insulin (which I didn't have).

I am thinking of my son, whom I delighted so much in watching him sleep-- as a baby, and even as a grown young man. He looks so peaceful.

I pray that my son is resting, tonight, because his job starts early and it's physically demanding.

I pray, Lord, that my son is wanting sobriety. 

I miss my son. It hurts.  But, I have to let him grow up and I can only pray that he is making smart choices.

Tonight, I am missing him.  Is he thinking of me in a loving way?  Tonight, there are lots of parents who are feeling my pain.  I am thinking and praying for you.

Never lose hope.  God is in control.