Give your addict a test...not a pop quiz

I could hardly wait for this Saturday morning so that I could sleep in, enjoy my morning cup of coffee and to catch up on email. This has been a very hectic week at my job and in dealing with B's recent discovery that he has been using since his return from rehab #2 in October.

I'm feeling less pensive today-- I give credit to the weather being sunny and glorious, a good night's rest and a therapy session with my husband last night. On the way home, alone in my car, I felt as though God had given me wisdom. So, I'll jump right into it:

B has his car back. It's semi-fixed, but he says that it's just not quite right. He cannot afford to have the axle repaired to good-as-new condition. He's been home and he has moments of being in good spirits and moments of having chills (chattering teeth and all). His appetite varies. These are all stages of detox from opiates.

Yesterday, B came to my job to deliver my forgotten cellphone and I had a chance to meet his sponsor, "D". We chatted for about five minutes. I noticed that B's eye were dilated. From what I understand, and B acknowledges, this is a sign of withdrawal. He appeared anxious-- either signs of withdrawal of using. He was headed to our local college, with his sponsor, to try and get his paperwork in for financial aid. My impression of his sponsor was that he was a nice looking young man. I invited him to our home, for Super Bowl, so that we could all talk. "D" is willing to share his story. He seems to care about my son, and so I left with a hopeful impression of "D".

Our therapy session-- we told "J" about B's newest episode. She looked so disappointed, since she's had two private sessions with him. Basically, she said that the odds of my son's success in an outpatient program are very grim. She believes that B should be in a one year in-patient program. I agree-- but I can also tell you that it's easier said than done.

She asked how often we had tested B, and we realized that it was only once.
"Why?" she asked. C and I both paused...and he answered, "Because we thought that he was doing so well".

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

First, B has to be willing to go. He isn't. I believe that B's reluctance is that he is deathly afraid of detox-- true detox... dry detox. From what addicts tell me, it is worse than natural childbirth. They say that the physical pain of withdrawal from opioids is so frightening that it is usually why they continue to use. I have been told that, unless you experience it, it's hard to explain the agony of it all. Is this a good excuse? Yes and No.

B went through dry detox in April. He was an in-patient for 30 days at a top-rated facility. It cost $36,000.

So, there is problem #2 - In-patient treatment is costly. I am still making arranged payments for my share of what the insurance did not cover. I cannot afford another round, and as long as B has medical insurance, they will not give a waiver on the balance due. This seems to be a universal law.

There are in-patient facilities and I have spoken to a few. They can be "free" but they are all dry detox. You get a bed, and you go through the agony of physical withdrawal. Last night, B said that he can't do it. He won't. He's scared to death, and I can see it.

My husband and I sat close together, and he was supportive and loving. I feel confident, that our marriage is growing closer because of this. As I've said before, he is a man with a good heart. I'm blessed to be loved by him. He understands my love for my son, and he says he will never put me into a position to make a choice.

That gave me a sense of peace and comfort. As I listened to "J" saying that she doubts my son will succeed in his idea of getting into an outpatient facility (I called, and got the info...and B did go for an intake on Thursday), I was hit with a big dose of fear.

Towards the end of the session, I concluded that I was going to give my son the LAST AND FINAL CHANCE. I mean it-- this is it. The Last Stand.

"J" said that it is vitally important that I mean this. I know. Should my son fail to stay clean, then I have to be strong to let him go. I have always known this. Even if it means that he will use to the point of being caught and arrested, overdosing, or killing himself-- I know that this is the ugly path that untreated addiction will lead to.

I know that if, and when, the time comes, that I have to be strong and to let my son go.

There was a palpable sense of acceptance-- from my husband, that the decision is to allow B one last and final chance...from our therapist that this is my decision, from a mother's compassionate heart... that this was a decision I must stick with and follow through.

"C" and I were in separate cars, which gave me the time to think alone. That's when I felt a strong presence of God. It was as though God gave me the strength and a clear understanding of what I must say and do.

First, I decided to test B. I knew that this test would be my "baseline". That is, I figured that he'd test positive. He has only been clean (in theory) for less than five days).

I felt a strong conviction that I cannot give my son a penny. Not for snack food, gas or even special grocery requests. B should be thankful to be staying in our home. He can eat what we have. Period. That should be MORE than enough luxuries and it is certainly a better alternative to living on a friend's couch or sleeping on a kitchen floor.

When I got home, B was waiting for me and C was a few minutes behind. C offered to stop and buy Crystal Lite drink mix, since it's sugar free and B does drink a lot of fluid (part of his diabetes). B would rather drink sugar sodas, but I don't buy them-- ever.

I felt a renewed sense of confidence. I picked out a coffee mug and handed it to B.
"Here. Go pee in our bathroom.".
B said he couldn't, so he drank water.

"Let's talk", I said, as C walked into the door.

B's demeanor seemed calm and accepting.

I began to talk to B and I told him about our session. I told him that I agreed with out therapist that I felt B was taking a huge risk in thinking an outpatient program would be his answer to sobriety.

I told him that I had made my decision-- that he was living in our home for the LAST AND FINAL TIME. I reminded him that if he uses drugs, and I get a positive drug test that he would have to pack what he could, I would drop him off someplace and we would change the locks. I told him that if he called me, I'd hang up. He would have to find a third party if he needed to communicate to me.

I told him that Tough Love, Phase I begins--

• Expect random drugs tests often and randomly
• I will not give him money. No gas money. No fast food money. Nothing. If he needs money, get a job.
• I told him that his car insurance is cancelled as of March 9th. His premium is paid through February 15th. I would not pay anything to insure his car.
• He either goes to school and/or has a job. No laying around the house.

He readily agreed to all of it. He says he is already thinking of how to ride the bus. I will buy him a bus pass, but no cash.

Tough Love, Phase II begins when he gets thrown out of the house.

B took his drug test and it came out positive for opiates. I expected this. He is still detoxing. I will test often and he gets a few more days. Five more...tops. It better come out clean.

B and talked later on. He appears to be remorseful and he admitted he is afraid of being thrown out. I can only pray that his fear of my random tests will be enough to keep him from wanting to use.

B went on to explain to me how horrible his addiction is... he needs help. Professional help. He needs prayer, love and to earn back our trust.

We need God in our lives.

If you have a child who you suspect is using-- don't ask them if they are. They will lie.
Test them. Do it! I wish I had done that a long time ago. Had I known how easy they are to buy, I would have known sooner how deep in trouble my son was.

Please- test your child, if you suspect odd behavior. If only I had known...

I promised myself to go and exercise at 9:30 and it's past that. I'm going to quit for now.

I'll post again later. I'll post the links to where I buy my online drug tests. They are the same ones that doctors use. They cost about $5.00 each. They work.

I want to enjoy the weekend. I have no time to proof read or spell check.

Blessings.

Blowing off Steam

I'm so thankful that it's Friday, and that my husband and I have a therapy session at 4:30pm.
Since B's whole episode of "discovery" (that he's been lying and using all along), our house is feeling out of sorts.

There is a 5000 pound gorilla in our home, and it's like nobody can really face it.

My husband sent me an email, and I could tell that he was frustrated. I won't get into the details, but he is clearly upset with B.

I finally got B to answer the phone. He admitted that he lied...again. LIES. That is what he is all about. He lies about being clean. He lies about taking care of things. He twists what I say, when I clearly remember our conversation. He procrastinates. He doesn't see urgency in things that are important.

When I called B on it...again, he said maybe it's better that he just leaves. Am I supposed to beg him to stay?

I am reaching the end of my rope. We are nowhere.


B gives up. I am reaching a point of really blowing my resolve to stay and think clearly.

I'm just blowing off steam. This is what addiction does. It destroys families.

Finding support - how do you do it? Can I help?

It's a "given" that my son's relapse (or, should I say continued use of drugs) is constantly on my mind. I cannot say that I'm not worried. But, I can find some comfort in feeling a sense of peace. My commute to work, each morning, is a special time for me--it is my time with God. I finally bought an iPod two years ago. Once I figured out how to download podcasts into my new gadget (and I am a gadget freak), I found that my commutes became my special time with the Lord. Each work day, I listen to Pastor Greg Laurie's podcast. My commute takes 40 minutes, so I listen to his daily message (20 minutes) and I pray out loud. By the way, the art of praying out loud has helped me to focus on actually TALKING to God! If you've never tried it, I can tell you that it takes the direction of your prayers to a more personal level. I don't care if driver's see me talking. With all the bluetooths that people are using, I figure that it's not so unusual anymore.

I digressed, again. That's how my thought processing work. Sorry.

My point is, that when I am immersed into hearing Pastor Greg Laurie's messages (and he is a great preacher), I get a double dose of peace. I get to see the beautiful ocean bay... the coast of California that is a mecca for tourism. I feel such gratitude that I am driving to my job (and that I have a job), and I cannot help but count my blessings. I feel the presence of the Lord in me-- and that is what gives me peace.

It saddens me when me when I see people who have collapsed around their troubles. I want, desperately, for them to know the kind of peace that my love and faith in Jesus has given me! I wish that I could find a way to share my testimony of how I came to be a believer 12 years ago. But, so many people's hearts are shut down-- they've been hardened by hypocritical Christians... judgmental Christians or churches that left them cold. I am still working on my 1 minute testimony, but it still needs a lot of honing.

Today, I am feeling like I can exhale. There is nothing earth shattering to report on B. He is at our house, his strep throat is healed. He has an intake appointment, today, to see about starting a drug outpatient program that is a year long.

I am staying focused on my job, and to take care of me. I don't want to wallow in self-pity and I certainly don't want to whine. If anything, I pray that God will show me how to use my personal experience with my son's addiction to help others. We need support groups. Way back in this blog, I mention my attending some Al-Anon meetings. I have nothing bad to say about this wonderful organization. It just didn't speak to my heart. I could not relate to alcohol, since my son doesn't drink. He uses opiates.

I have attended some church recovery support groups. I've met some lovely people and I've enjoyed beautiful worship music (I just love to sign off key and worship the Lord). I've sat through small group meetings-- in the AA format of "Hi, I'm Debby" "Hi, Debby", echo the folks in my support group. The rules are simple-- don't use last name, no cross talk and if we start to cry, no one is supposed to hand you a tissue or hug you. The theory is that we need to be allowed to cry and release our feelings. We also cannot talk to a specific person. We can only sit and listen to the person who is speaking.

This is not the best format for me-- because I'm not a whiner. Many times, the topics that I hear people sharing in group is the same broken record... week after week--and, often, I feel as though people who really need to talk and share are either too shy (I'm very observant of people) or someone else is monopolizing time by droning on and on... I have compassion for folks who are suffering from sex addiction, gambling addiction, food addiction and anger problem. But, I really desire to focus on drug addiction-- trying to better understand everything that I can.

There isn't a Nar-Anon in my area. I've looked, believe me. So, the next best thing is for me to start one, right? I know I could do it, but that's where I have a tendency to overdo things. I need to restrain myself.

My husband and I are seeing a licensed therapist whom we think is doing a pretty good job with us. She listens and she offers sensible advice. That's all I can ask for.

I attend a church that feels like my extended family. My pastor is a dynamic speaker and he teaches the Word. I learn something new, every time. I absolutely adore working at the high school ministry at my church. The Youth Pastor is wonderful. I enjoy my small group of freshman girls, and getting to know them. Twice a year, I am a leader for a 5-week small group called "Honest to God". It's pretty heavy. The questions are deep. We cry. We laugh. We hug. We connect.

THAT's the kind of support group that I need! I am a hugger, a weeper, an encourager. But, I'm not a whiner and I try not to complain. I can't say that I NEVER complain, but I try to stop myself when I become aware of it. My mother was the Queen of Complaining and Guilt!

The strength in me, that people sense, is that I am a very determined kind of woman. Sometimes, as I've expressed before, I am misunderstood. I am not deliberately controlling. But I need to feel in control of myself. I like to have a plan.

I suggest to many of you who are struggling with a situation similar to mine (someone you love is addicted to drugs)-- you do need to find some kind of support. Your friends or loved ones, who are NOT experience what you are can only bring you the support of love. My advice is that you seek information on drug addiction from professionals. I try to post links that have been helpful to me.

To those of you who have a loved one who HAS a loved one with addiction-- the best support that you can give them is to let them know that you care about them. Offering advice, if you have not done adequate research on addiction can risk making the parent feel guilty or inadequate. Just love on them, and pray for them!

Journal your thoughts! This blog is my journal. I could, with one click, make this blog private and close this to the public. I choose to share my story.

I have toyed with the idea of starting a forum... a group that is online. Feel free to email me.privately (mominchrist@comcast.net) if you would want to do this. Maybe we can support one another in a more private arena. I am praying for parents of addicts and for the kids who are lost in their addiction.

My break is over and I need to get back to work.

May the peace of Christ be with you. I also wanted to share a scripture that is easy to find. Just dial 9-1-1, when you are in times of trouble.

PSALM 91:1

1 He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. ^[a]

2 I will say ^[b] of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust."

3 Surely he will save you from the fowler's snare
and from the deadly pestilence.

4 He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

5 You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,

6 nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.

7 A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.

8 You will only observe with your eyes
and see the punishment of the wicked.

9 If you make the Most High your dwelling—
even the LORD, who is my refuge-

10 then no harm will befall you,
no disaster will come near your tent.

11 For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;

12 they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

13 You will tread upon the lion and the cobra;
you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

14 "Because he loves me," says the LORD, "I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.

15 He will call upon me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him.

16 With long life will I satisfy him
and show him my salvation."

The addiction is bigger than us and an update

My husband reads my blog. It's a weird feeling, in a way. Yet, I am posting my personal story for anyone to read-- people I do not know, are reading my story. When I write, I am allowing my feelings--in the moment-- to manifest through my speedy typing on a keyboard. Sometimes, my thoughts might appear as a very lengthy read. To others, I am honored to receive private emails and comments-- from people who tell me how touched they are or how they are experiencing what I am going through. I read every single comment and email, and I appreciate them.

I'm not a professional writer, by any means. I'm not a drug counselor, a psychiatrist, nor a licensed therapist. I am, simply, a mother who has a son who is addicted to opiates. I am also a mother, who is divorced from my son's father (for about 12 years now) and who remarried three years ago. Corny as it sounds, I am serious when I say I married a good person. I'm not writing this, because I assume that "C" is reading this. I also know that his sister is reading this. I married someone who remained a bachelor into what many people would consider to the "The Stone Age". He has no ex wives in his life and he has no children. Me? I have ex-husbands and one son. Still, he accepted me having received full disclosure from me of my past. I have been completely honest with "C" because he is the kind of person that I feel safe with.

Something that C and I have in common is that both of us were in relationships with addicts. I had a very brief "drive by" marriage between my divorce from B's father and my marriage to C. I don't like to talk about that chapter in my life, very much, because I feel so stupid. I did not know that this person was an addict and an alcoholic. C's relationship with this woman lasted for many years. Neither one of us knew our "significant others" were using...he thought she was sober... I was never disclosed by "him" that he had a drug and alcohol problem. I never knew his dirty little secret, until after I married him and he bled me financially dry and stole from me.

That's more than I meant to share, but so be it...

Ultimately, both of us bailed out of our prior relationships. Neither once of us wanted the addictive behavior to be in our lives, anymore. I could only endure the alcohol and drug use for a year-- he stuck through it all much longer than that. Consequently, he knows more about addiction that I do. Both of us had vowed to ourselves that we would never get involved with an addict again.

So, once again, addiction has come back into our lives...his life. I feel so bad about it. It's not my fault, but I still feel a lot of guilt.

At the time that "C" and I were engaged, he wasn't living with me. B was living with me, full time. I was unaware that B was using drugs the entire time that C and I dated, and became engaged and then married, over the course of 2 years. "C" and I went to see a counselor to ask for advice on how to blend as a family. Our counselor told us that the best role that my husband should strive for was to become an adult role model to B... a "mentor". We were told that this would be a very slow process. B had me all to himself for several years, so we knew that there would be some resentment. The process has, indeed, been slow. Today, I think that my son has begun to notice what a good person it is that I am married to. I think that B is seeing C as a good adult role model. Still, C has been fooled by my son's lies. Understandably, C is not a happy camper.

What I adore about my husband is that he is so dependable. He's the kind of person that you can count on to follow through on his promises. He pays his bills on time. He's a hard working person and treats me in such a kind and generous way. That I think he's the most handsome man I've every met is mine to own. He has finally shown me what a healthy relationship is supposed to be.

My greatest fear is that my son's addiction could tear at our marriage. Right now, I don't feel as though we are in trouble. But, I also know that our marriage is as vulnerable as anyone else's. I have a tendency to become controlling, when I am feeling pressure. I hate it, and I fight it. What most people don't understand is that my wounded child, within (from physical and bad relationships with men) can come out in me. I catch myself lacking patience, or being short with my words. If I'm not careful, I can easily slip into my micro-managing persona and asking "did you do this" or, I need this...NOW. My voice takes on a tone of authority, and less of compassion. I don't even know that I'm doing it, until my son or husband points it out. Then, I feel bad. I don't deny it, and I try to be aware of it.

What people don't understand is that this has become my coping mechanism. I feel more secure with structure and systems in my life. I'm not a free-spirit, if that's a more understandable term.

I'm writing about myself, and this blog should be about my son. But, today, it is important for me to try and sort out what role, if any, I can play in helping my son-- while trying to protect my precious marriage.

I have not had a chance to talk to C. That he tells me he is reading my blog brings me mixed emotions. I feel a little exposed and vulnerable, to him. I know that he's a very private person, and he must worry that someone he knows will read this blog. As for me, I'm a very open person. I will not live my life in shame or secrecy about my son's addiction. I don't like TALKING about it to people-- in fact, I do not want to repeat his story over and over again.

"Read my blog! Try to understand!", are some of the thoughts that go through my head, when people call with the purpose of talking to me. I don't want to talk. I know that sounds rude, but I would rather that people read my blog.

I appreciate when people write to me about their own story, or offer me advice. Sometimes, the advice I receive comes from a person who is not a parent or an addict. I know that they mean well, so I do not allow myself to take offense.

OK, I'm beginning to see that today's posting is getting very lengthy. I apologize to those of you who prefer to read in shorthand. But, today, I need to share my feelings.

Let me fill in what happened since yesterday:

I called my brother, A. He was home, taking a day off. I asked if B could spend time with him. I'm not sure why I called him, but I had hoped that my son would be able to unload to his Uncle, whom he adores. So, I drove B to his uncle's house, just a few minutes away from where I work. At that time, I didn't fully realize that B was in the stages of early withdrawal. I will post more on that another day. To those of you who do not know-- withdrawal from opiates is horrible. I have been told, by addicts who have gone through this, that it is pure agony. It is painful, sweating, vomiting, spasms...it is hell.

I'm getting sidetracked again-- I just spend 1/2 hour talking to a student who is failing all of her classes. I strongly suspect that she is "using". I made her cry, because I drew all of my mother instincts and I connected with her. She is crying out for help, and her mother is clueless that she has straight F's and she is cutting classes. Hello? This girl told me that she thought nobody cared. I tried to give her a pep talk. I want to call her mom (and I know her) to tell her "Wake up! You've put your daughter in five different schools in three years! Changing schools is not doing to change your daughter! Pay attention to her!"

Changing rehab centers isn't going to fix addicts, either, I thought to myself.

Sorry. Back to B's update:

I picked B up from his uncle's house, when I got off work. The three of us had dinner. B said he was hungry, but he was unable to finish his meal. I had to take my night class, so I picked B up from his uncle's around 8:00pm. On the way home, we talked. I listened more, and I let him talk (a newly acquired and vital skill for parents).

He said a lot of things. Are they truth or hopeful promises? Am I being manipulated? I think that they are hopeful truths.

B has an intake appointment on Thursday afternoon. It is for a one year outpatient program, where he is randomly tested and has to attend regular meetings. He believes that this is the program for him. We shall see if his insurance will cover it. He knows that I cannot and will not pay out of my own pocket. I simply cannot afford it.

He asked if he could stay at our house to detox. He has suboxone, to help. He also needs to get better from his strep throat. I have agreed to allow him that. What else could he do? Detox on the couch of house that is inhabited by addicts? I think not.

C was asleep when I got home. I checked my email and then fell into a deep sleep.

This morning, I could see that C looks very stressed. It scares me when I see him this way.

"The addiction is bigger than us", is what he said to me-- with an exasperated tone.

Yes, it is. No matter what the books say... no matter what logic says... there are no fool proof solutions that are universal.

Someone wrote an email to me, yesterday, that echoed exactly what I said to my husband. I said that that "B is a 20 year old inside of a 15 year old mind". Tough Love is not the absolute answer.

C and I need to find balance in how to deal with this horrible situation. We need to find how to give my son a lot of love and hope. We need to learn how to detect the BS Meter. Right now, we cannot focus on his academics or job. We need to find HOW to help my son to help himself.

B is the only person who can be ready to WANT...to desperately DESIRE sobriety. He has to show to himself and to God and to us-- that he means what he says.

It will not happen overnight.

The vigil of sobriety begins...

What does a mother do?

So, last night B called and asked if I could give him a ride to his car. His car is parked at the repair shop. He said he wanted to park it in a place where he could sleep.

Ouch.

In a nano second, my inner voice told me to forgo stopping at my sports center for my water aerobics class. I told him I was heading to where he was (40 minutes drive) and we would “talk”.

When I spotted him, he was without a jacket and it was cold outside.

“What happened to your jacket?”, I asked.

“Dunno. I think I lost it.”

“What happened to your things?”

“I stashed my backpack in some bushes”.

I was reminded of the book, “My Beautiful Boy”.

So this is what it’s come to? My own beautiful boy… my only son… my child that I so desperately wanted, has been wandering around in a seedy section of town, hanging out in a park where shootings are known to happen…

What would you do? Seriously. I’m asking you moms—what would you do?

I had already called my husband to tell him what to expect. He was very reluctant to help B. I understand. B isn’t his own son. He cannot love him the way that I do. He loves me, but my son is simply MY son.

My son looked sick (he still has strep throat), very tired and he was happy to be warm.

The shortened version from his is:

“C” charged my son his last $20.00 that I gave him and bought beer with it. She’s an alcoholic and (I would guess) a heroin addict, in recovery. B has been taking her to a methadone clinic while he had his car.

Sweet (sarcasm, here).

B slept on a kitchen floor, in a tiny old house with cockroaches. How “bottom” is that?

In the few times I’ve spoken with her, she talks like a woman who has been through some pretty rough patches in life. She is loud and … she sounds like some who is/has used drugs. B said that “C” flies off the handle and it was brutal staying with her.

Thank you, Jesus. Have you caused this suffering for my son’s benefit?

B went on to say how scared he was. He realized that he had no place to go. He was afraid of sleeping in the park, or under a stairwell. My son, who prefers to wear ironed Polo shirts and designer jeans and expensive shoes… he was seen just a glimpse of the kind of life that is in store for those who use drugs. Untreated addiction leads to people losing everything—possessions, family, marriages, and hope.

I brought B home and the three of us talked. I don’t know what to say. I am so shattered by what happened this weekend. I want to trust B, but I cannot.

My husband does not want B to stay with us. He’s right. Yet, there is something that makes this very hard for me—actually, two things—my son is sick with strep throat, and he’s a diabetic. B said that what scared him is that he had to panhandle yesterday. He realized that if he had a low blood sugar, he had no way to get food inside him.

But my husband is telling me that B cannot come home until he is clean. That’s what I had to tell B, right as he was falling asleep. He says that he understands.

I don’t. This is what addiction has done. It tears people’s lives apart.

Right now, B is sleeping in my car, that is parked in front of the school where I work. He had to wake up and leave with me at 6:30am. I bought him some juice, water and Starburst candies for low blood sugar. I gave him enough money for a bus pass. He plans to go to our local community college. He still wants to register for college.

His phone is dead and his charger is at “C’s”. That’s a bummer, because it’s our only lifeline to him.

As I went into my work building, B asked if he could stay in my car to fill out the school paperwork. 30 minutes later, I went to the car to check if had gone. I opened the unlocked door and his body popped up from the back seat. It scared both of us.

That’s all I have to report.

I could really use some parental wisdom here. What can I do?