Three Years Later...

April Fool’s Day, 2008:  My husband and I drove my son for a two-hour trip to a Medical Treatment Facility.  My son was strung out on drugs.  At the time, I thought it was Oxy-Contin.  Later, I was to find out that my son’s drug addiction had progressed to free-basing black tar heroin.  

I started my blog on April 13, 2008--  within days of my son’s beginning journey into detox.  Never, did I imagine that I would connect with so many other parents who share my story.  I don’t know what I would have done without all of you.  I desperately needed to find someone who could help me make sense of my son’s dilemma.  I tried going to Al-Anon meetings.  I recall sitting there, like a zombie, so dazed and confused.  How could I relate to people talking about alcohol, while my son was puking and shaking in a hospital room because he body was filled with opiod poison?

It took WEEKS before I finally connected to someone who had a blog.  From there, I was plugged into to many other blogger who shared my story.  I had finally found a resource where I could cry, vent and share my (short-lived) joy in believing that my son was cured.

How naïve I was…

In looking back at the first year of my blog, I had so many ups and downs. It shows  in the ways that I wrote.  I have entries where I’m angry. I have entries where I’m hopeful.  I shared stories of my son’s deceits.  I was broken-hearted, and then I’d turn around and feel as though my son was going to be okay.  I notice that I would write posts that had a LOT of supports and comments from so many of you. Thank you.

But, I also see that I began to write posts that I knew would receive a lot of sympathy.  I wanted sympathy... I wanted attention... I was so confused! There’s nothing wrong with that, but in retrospect, I think I became a “victim” far too many times.  The reason I pulled back from blogging as much as I once did, is that I no longer wanted to post when I was in that drama mode.  I didn’t want to become the drama queen.   I also decided to focus more of my time on my marriage and career.  I began to disconnect from all the drama, and I’ve felt much better about it, ever since.

It’s a roller-coaster ride.   There’s so much drama, living with an addict!   

So, where is my son today?

□       He is living at home with us.

□       I can’t tell you if he’s clean or not.  I’ve stopped asking him, and I’ve accepted that answer is between B and God.  

□       What I can tell you is that he look 110% better.  He looks “normal”. 

□       His “gangsta” street lingo is gone. 

□       His “homies” are out of his life—some are in jail, or have died of an overdose. 

□       He is respectful to me and to his stepfather. 

□       He has kept his job for almost a year—having lost another job that he kept for almost two years.

□       He’s still on methadone, but his dose is slowly coming down.  He wants to be off it, and I wish him well.  It’s not easy.  I have mixed feelings about methadone.  Personally, I think it’s trading one illegal addiction for a legal one.  ‘Nuff said.

□       My son, I am thankful to say, is not a thief. Nothing has gone missing from our home.  I can leave my wallet around, and all the cash will still be in there.  Amen.

□       My son still lies very easily.  He lies when he has forgotten to take care of something, because he doesn’t want me to be upset.  That’s very much addict behavior, and he admits that lying is something that they do very well.

What have I learned in the last three years?

I’ve learn to let go of putting my own expectations on my son, regarding how he should be living his life.  I’ve had 30 plus years of life experiences, and that’s called maturity.  My son is only 22 years old, and I have to let him make his own mistakes.  That was a huge learning curve for me. It has brought peace into our relationship.  Do I still get frustrated over his lack of motivation of follow-through? Yes.  I have to keep saying to myself "let go".  It's hard, but I think it's the right thing to do. 

My son has a strict set of boundaries in his living with us.  He has a chore list, that he does.   He pays rent.  A portion of that rent goes into a savings account.  That money will be used to pay rent for wherever he moves.  When my son will move out is uncertain—it depends on us not finding drugs (which we haven’t) and whether or not he goes back to college; he’s been talking about that.  I just know he won't live here forever... hopefully no more than a few more months. We shall see.

What happens next?

Being a mom, it’s in my DNA to worry about my son.  When I catch myself going down that train of thought, I say out loud “Let Go, Let God”.  I thank God every single day, for his Grace and Mercy on my son.  It’s is truly a miracle that my son never got arrested and that he’s alive.  He’s shared enough horror stories with me, that I know God was watching over him.

My son has a very long road ahead of him.  I know, that at any time, he could go back to using drugs again.  I can’t bubble wrap him, and I can only pray that my son will work hard to remain sober.  I give him  kudos that he is either at work or playing on his X-Box.  I’m not thrilled about it, but then again—what are the other alternatives?  B says that his gaming keeps his mind occupied, and he doesn’t think about using.  I wish he could channel his time and energy into other things…but then, it’s his life.  He doesn't really have any friends to hang out with, and I wish he could have a fun social life. But, he knows that the friends he hung out with need to be kept very far away from him.

My marriage is doing very well.  My son and my husband have found a relationship that is beginning to blossom into C being a male role model for my son.  I am a very lucky wife to have such a kind and compassionate husband.  I’m very lucky that my husband has not left me, or forced me to choose between my son or him.  I can tell that B truly likes, and respects, my husband.  

I look forward to the day, when my son can pack his bags and move into his own place.  I want this, most, for my son.  He needs to learn how take care of himself, and to become a man who has a job and will take care of responsibilities.  I hope that he will meet a good woman—but, more than anything, I pray that he will find a good friendship with someone who is not an addict…and who would be a friend of integrity.

Once my son moves out, I will miss him very much. I do love having him at home. He’s really not a problem.   Even my husband says so.

But, our children must leave the nest and learn how to spread their wings and fly.

I pray that the bonds of addiction will be broken, so that he can soar high and that he will experience true freedom and joy.

Thank you, everyone, for your friendship and support.

Thank you, God, for being my Abba Father.  I praise your Holy Name and give you all the Glory for where we are today.

Amen/

 

A letter from a 17 year old girl, seeking advice - will you help?

I received an email, this morning.  It's from "Kelsey" who says she is 17 years old.  I admit that, at first, I wondered if this email is legit.  But, I don't want to take that kind of gamble.  The purpose of my blog began as a way to find my own advice, encouragement and support as I grappled with the fact that my son is a drug addict.  My blog cultivated a lot of wonderful people who understood me, because they had similar problems.  There are times when I received comments from people who are, themselves, drug addicts.  They have helped me, tremendously, to try and better understand my son's perspective on his battle of addiction. For that reason, I have decided to post Kelsey's email (without her email address, to protect her privacy).  I'm going to email her and ask her to check my blog, because I'm going to ask my readers/followers to leave comments for her to read.

Before I do, please know that my son appears to be staying clean, though he is still on methadone. I'll update more of that, but I'm giving Kelsey a spot on my blog. Kelsey, I pray that you will find guidance from those who will comment. I'll write to you when I have a chance to come up with my own response.

Hi, I came across your blog when I googled early signs of addiction. I googled that because I wanted to know if I would fall under the "addict" catergory. I don't really think I do, but my one sober friend thinks I need help. I'm not sure if she's the right person to go off of, but then I feel she might be because I'm so used to all of my other friends using more drugs than I do. When I say I use drugs I mean I only use like, coke, subs, acid, weed, and then these precription pills are the love of my life: adderall, xanax, ativan, percs, oxys. I don't use any of these daily, with the exception of weed, but I use one or more at least 4 times a week. When I'm not using I'm thinking of how I can get it, what I can get, etc. I just think about being high non stop. I didn't really email you so you can tell me if I'm a drug addict or not. I feel like it's not that simple when I am only text on a web page to you. I emailed you because I want help before it gets to the point where I'm having bad withdrawls and can't stop. I mean, I want that help, but then I don't because I'm not convinced it's a problem. I just don't know how to tell my Mom, and that is where I come to you for advice. Please excuse me if I'm not making sense, it's 7:11 in the morning, and I haven't slept in over a day. I think I may be delirius to everyone but myself. So here is my story, and I hope you can give me some insight on what I can do: I'm Kelsey. I'm a 17-year-old junior in highschool. I'm screwing up my life. I'm practically failing out of school, and I want to fix that but I don't care enough to. I'm scared to tell my mom because she is already going through a hard enough time, I don't want her to have to deal with my problems. That is, if she believes me. I have a feeling she'd tell me I just want attention. Or she'd just try to ground me or something like that. She's an alcoholic that is dealing with the death of my older brother and her husband is divorcing her. She's not very stable and she has no self-confidence. I also can't tell her because I am supposed to be the "good one", the one with "promise" in my family. You see, I come from a long line of alcoholics and drug addicts. I'm the only one of my cousins that actually has is together. I don't want her to be embarrassed because I know she's proud that I'm not a screw-up like her brother's daughter and her sister's son. We're all very similar in age, the girl is 19 and the boy is going to be 17 in a few months. I honestly don't even know if this little "addiction" that I may or may not have is even serious enough to tell anyone. Thank you for taking the time to read this. Sincerely, Kelsey

God bless you, Kelsey!

A Mother's Compassion

I'm home, nursing a winter cold.  In a rare moment, I have the quiet of the house to sit down and write...and pray...and to ground myself.  I ended my last post so abruptly, because my son walked into the room.  In the last few months, I have learned to turn off my laptop when my husband or son is in the mood to have "dialogue" with me. It's so easy to become immersed into being on the web, where I visit my cooking sites and chat on Facebook with friends.   I had every intention of picking up where I signed off, but I didn't.  So, here I am.

I do continue to read some of the addiction blogs that I subscribe to.  I don't mean to ignore the plight of the person's writings by not leaving a comment. It's just that I used to do that a lot.  What did I do a lot, you are wondering?  I used to log on and write every single thing that happened. I'd vent. I'd cry. I'd express my fears.  At the time, the many comments of encouragement (and some were critical) helped me.  I was a mom whose heart was so broken by my son's addiction.  I was giving so much of my time and energy into my son's addiction, that I wasn't paying attention to much of anything else.

Today, I continue to say that I am the mother of a drug addict.  I have to get used to it, and I need to accept that.  I've been able to move past the fear of judgment from parents who have "good kids".   I know that I was-- and still am-- a good mother.  Today, I focus on today. I'm living in the moment.  That sounds carefree and footloose, but it's healthier for me.  The turning point for me was when I realized that I had a model in my head of how I wanted my son to find sobriety.  I wanted my son to get clean. Then, I wanted him to go to college and get a good job.  As a bonus, I've been praying that a good woman would come into his life.  Sounds good, right?

Then it hit me-- these are my expectations.  B and I have had many frank talks about his drug addiction.  He's helped me to understand that, for now, he can only focus on not wanting to use.  B can't go to college, because he's not ready to focus on studying.  It would be a waste of money.  Again, my problem solving says that he needs to leave the area. He needs to get away from those who he used with, in the past. He needs to find a sponsor.  But, unless my son has that own vision for himself, I am only setting myself up for frustration that he isn't meeting my expectations.

Does that make sense?

My son turned 22 in November. He has lived with us since March. He has paid us rent, and he has a small nest egg that I've set aside for the day he moves out.  Still, he doesn't earn enough money to make it on his own. Being in the restaurant business (as a busser) is a minimum wage job.   His last two months earnings have been eager, as this is the time of year when business is really slow.  We've adjusted his rent during lean times, but that's about to end. He's been applying for jobs, though I don't think as hard as he could. Whoops, see? There I go, with my own expectations!

He is still chained to his methadone clinic.  I have come to the conclusion that my son is only buying a temporary fix from using heroin, with his use of methadone.  I'm also not impressed with the methadone clinic, as I once was.   All that counseling I was told was available....yeah, right.  The counselors come and go.  I've stopped paying for his methadone many months ago. For a while, we paid a portion of it.  Two months ago, we cut that help off. B says he'll be off by March.  I can only hope so.  In the meantime, he must drive to the clinic every single morning for his dose. If he misses one, he goes into withdrawals.

It's a sad life. 

Sadder still, what I see in my son is a lack of self-esteem.  I see him not taking care of his health, eating properly and he has no perseverance.  I've had to let go of that.  As a roommate, there aren't any problems.  He keeps the house tidy, nothing has gone missing and he is respectful to us.  I am watching my son as he begins to ask my husband questions. I am seeing in my son that he recognizes that my husband is a good person. 

What makes me very sad is that my son doesn't have any friends-- that is, friend who don't want to use with him.  Every so often, he mentions seeing someone from his past.... and that makes me uncomfortable. B knows they are not welcome in our home.  That's when I kick up my prayers that God would sever those relationships.   His friends have been in and out of rehab. 

My prayer continues that someone will come into his life who is clean and sober. Someone who can be a good role model and mentor to him.  

In the meantime, the time is drawing near when my son has to leave our nest.  When he does, I will miss his presence in our home.  I enjoy the talks that we have, though we work different schedules.  When he moves out, I think I've detached myself enough that I won't fret and worry at night.  That's the peace I've found, and I give the glory to my faith in God.  I hang on to God's promise that he will always be there for us.   When I find myself worrying, I find a quiet place to pray and to thank God for his grace and mercy on my son.

God has looked after my son, and it's a miracle that my son has been spared a criminal record or worse. 

My son's story isn't over, of course.   I have learned to have compassion for my son, yet I have become less prone to trying to fix everything for him.  How I long for my son to find peace in his life.  He must feel lonely and overwhelmed in life.  If only he'd find his way back in his own walk with God.

Breaking My Silence

With the coming of the New Year, I'm finding my way in a new direction that I have prayed God will guide me through. 2010 was a year that was certainly not devoid of many trials and tribulations.  Since this is a blog that I first started because my son finally admitted to me that he was a drug addict-- I'll start with him.

My son is still living with us.  I thank God every single day for what he has done for B.  My son has a legion of angels, I feel, who have saved his neck from some very close calls with his health.  Now that I begin typing, I realize that I could write a novella on what I mean by this. Alas, time doesn't allow for this.  I will say that my son's diabetes got out of control for him.  As the mother of a drug addict, I still see in my own son a lack of love for himself.  Many of you parents will nod in agreement when I describe how I see B lacking the perseverance to make a decision if he'll go back to school.... get a better paying job (in this terrible economy)... exercise....eat better.  With that I've found an understanding that, as an addict, he is focusing all of his energy of sobriety.  (Before anyone writes the ubiquitous comment that my son should go to meetings-- I get it.  He won't. He will, when he is ready.)

For weeks, my husband and I were concerned that he might be using again.  He'd sleep for long hours and his appetite was gone.  He looked gaunt, and yet he'd go to his job and work hard.  He's paying his rent and car insurance, and all is well.  A few weeks ago, my son left for his methadone dose and we headed to church.  A mother has an instinct when her cubs are in trouble, and I had an uneasy feeling. When we arrived home, B wasn't there. His bed was unmade, which is unusual.  For four hours, I prayed and worried and called a couple of times.

B finally called. He was in the emergency room. He had all the symptoms of a heart attack.  It turns out that was not taking the proper insulin, which he had run out of and not told us.  His blood sugars were through the roof.  He was okay, but shaken and he spent two nights in the hospital.  When he was discharged, it was like I had my son back.  He was energetic and ravenous.  He's taking better care of his diabetes and-- thanks to President Obama-- my son has health insurance again. Amen.

My absence from this blog, I believe, has been my disconnection from my son's addiction.  I have had three years to learn how to adjust and accept that my son is a drug addict.  I have whined, cried, complained, vented and prayed on this blog.  Now, I feel a transition has slowly happened for me. 

I am going to try and write more often on my blog.  The key word is "try".  However, my job has changed and my hours are ridiculously long.  I now work a split shift, and stay in "town" for three hours. I'm using that time to work out at the pool at our gym to lose weight and deal with my new diagnosis of diabetes.  In a strange way, I thank God for my diagnosis.  Because I understand the disease, I know what to do. I managed to get my son's doctor-- who is one of the best in the country-- to take my son back as his patient.  B and I laughed at both of us sitting in the waiting room.  It's weird, to be talking the same language. Yet, it's brought us closer.

I've made progress in detaching from my son's neediness.  He rarely asks me for things. Nothing has gone missing.  Is he using?  Maybe.  My son is fighting a disease where the odds are stacked against him.

The clock tells me I have to go.  I'll wind this up for now--

I thank those of you who still visit my blog and who leave comments. I'm sorry I haven't responded.  I needed to take a break from focusing so much energy on worrying about him.  It is my hope that I can use this blog to write from my heart, and for ME.  By that, I'm not looking for compassion, sympathy nor advice.  I am recommitting my life to follow my love of my Lord and Savior, Jesus.  I'm getting up earlier, to read scripture and to pray and sit quietly.  Today I broke that to blog.  I felt as though I needed to let people know I'm still here. Alive and well.

I'll try to continue my story later. B just got up.

I'm still here...

Dear Followers, Friends, Family and New Guests,

I have taken a two month hiatus from this blog. I really needed it.  Thank you for the sporadic emails I've been sent-- many of you have done so anonymously, so I couldn't answer back.  I'm gearing up to continue on sharing my story. But, not today.

I just wanted everyone to know that my son is still living with me.  He is beginning to try to detox from methadone.  I won't get into the details for now.

I will say that I am praying for him, that he can be free from methadone... free from using heroin again. He is fighting a huge battle, but he really wants to find a way to grow up and be clean and sober.

I've gone through some major job changes, too.  I've also been on vacation with my husband, and we needed it. I've also met a lovely woman, at my new job, who shares my story. She's lovely. We speak the same language. She understands. She doesn't judge me. I don't judge her. She doesn't tell me what I'm doing wrong, or what I should do. I do the same for her.

I do know this.   Being the parent of a drug addict is a long and arduous journey.  It is filled with a lot of pain.  Seeing my son showing the symptoms of withdrawal breaks my heart. In my own case-- and nobody's story is alike... similar, but never alike-- there have been hurdles that have been climbed and small victories.

My son is still living with us, and he's been no problem. He's been respectful and nothing has gone missing. He never was a thief. A manipulator, yes. Thief, no.

He has kept his job for over a year. Amen. For a drug addict, that's huge. He's also been at a second job, in the restaurant business, since May. He loves it. They love him.

He's had one hospital emergency for his diabetes.  I hope it woke him up to take care of himself.

By the Grace of God, my son and I have healed in our relationship.  He will turn 22 years old, in two weeks. I have finally learned to let go and let God. I really mean it.

That is most likely why I haven't been blogging much.  I don't feel a need to vent via this blog, any longer.  When I see my son's habitual procrastination, I have learned to just let him suffer his own consequences.  I've finally realized that my son thrives on drama. He thrives on the thrill of waiting to do something until the very last second.  Somehow, in a strange way, he seems to learn from his own consequences.

What a concept.

I have also come to better understand the difference between "co-dependence" and just being a good and loving mom.  I have finally learned that I cannot be responsible for my son's own happiness. I need to let him dig his own holes, and climb out of them on his own. 

I see promise in my son.  My son is finally maturing into a young man. Yes, he is still a drug addict. He always will be. Sometimes, the mom in me feel sad at how lonely he must feel at times. He works 7 days a week. When he's not working, he's a home. He watches TV and reads.  He can't afford to go out and do much. He pays us rent, for his car insurance and a portion of his methadone treatment.

And that brings us back to why he feels motivated to get off methadone. He can't afford it. It's a stretch for us, too. My son also realizes that he will be chained to the methadone clinic, and that limits where he can move. Move out, he will. He has been given until after the holidays. He knows that, and he agrees that it's time. We will have given him nine months to save money (we are holding it for him) towards future rentals. It won't be easy. He knows it. We know it.

But I won't stress about that. I have no control over the future. I live in the NOW. I live in faith in my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. 

I am doing okay, overall.  I have days when I feel deep sadness for my son. But I rejoice in his baby steps. Above everything else, I rejoice in the healing that has gone on between my son and me. I thank God for his Grace and Mercy. 

I continue to praise Him. My Creator, my God of Hope.

I pray that those of you who read this, will feel my own hope. Maybe I can touch someone else's heart and live them up.

Until later,