My own experience with Oxy-Contin. I'm serious.

Wow. It's been four months since I've paid any attention to this blog. I have no really good reason. The truth is, I've been trying to move forward with my life, marriage, job and relationship with my son.

What more would I have to share? I'm not the kind of drug advocate that I thought I could be. That is, I'm not involved with any kind of organization for parents of drug addicts. I no longer attend Nar-Anon meetings. Pretty much, I think I've put my son's addiction to Oxycontin and Heroin way in the back of my mind. Like, filed under "past" and I didn't want to reopen that file.

Then, something happened. After a few years of procrastination, I finally went ahead and had a total knee replacement.  This isn't my first major knee operation (same leg).  My arthriticaly diseased knee finally made my daily life a battle against pain. Standing, for more than a few minutes, hurt. Walking down a steep hill would blow out my knee. Forget sitting in a theater, unless I could stretch out my knee.

So, on June 11th I spend three nights in the hospital, after a success operation.  What did my doctor prescribe for my pain?

Oxycontin. 10mg.  One to two, every 12 hours.

My heart sank.

When my doctor checked in on me, it just leaped out of my throat. "I don't want to take oxycontin!"
He was a bit taken aback. I quickly explained that my son is a recovering drug addict, and this is the very drug that tore our lives apart. 

I'm not gonna lie. The post-surgery has been a daily heavy dose of pain. The physical therapist causes me nothing but anxiety-- though he's the best.  Bending my stiff knee, under his trained body pressure makes child birth seem like a walk in the park.  I find myself unable to hold back the blood curdling screams.  I am begging for mercy.   So, I have resigned myself to reserving the Oxycontin for the days he is coming to see me. I also have Oxycodone IR, and I can take 1-2 every 4 to 6 hours.  I opt, instead for Tylenol 500mg, no more than four times a day. So far, the Tylenol does a decent job with pain management... except for when the Physical "Terrorist" arrives at my house.

At least, my fear of becoming addicted was unfounded.  While Oxy gives me a sense of relaxation, and eases some of the pain (except for the excruciating stretches), I don't like the feeling of nausea that follows the "come down".  I sleep a lot, too. My appetite is pretty much non-existent. I eat, because if I don't, my body has the shakes. You could feed me my favorite gourmet dinner, and I might as well be eating sawdust with gravy on it. 

As I was laying on the bed, watching daytime TV (which I never do) I caught an episode on "Katie" about drug addiction.  One of her guests was a 23 year old boy, who was addicted to heroin. His path to destruction was no different than my own son's. 

Oh my God, the emotions welled up inside me.  I saw my own son, who was a shell of himself.  I listened to the boy talk about how he's been in and out of rehab and still can't get off the stuff. What I didn't hear this kid say was that he wanted to be clean-- with enough conviction. He was carted off to a top level rehab center in Malibu, CA-- free of charge. How I wish this young boy success in his sobriety.

Next, came a guest who is a 27 year old girl who has been clean for 5 years.  She was beautiful and articulate. She shared her journey in her addiction to Oxycontin and heroin.  She said exactly what my son's words were-- the key to her sobriety is the key to my own son's sobriety.

In my own words, this is the summary of why my son is no longer using.  The #1 reason, that my son could not find success in staying clean, is that he was terrified of going through withdrawals.  That's what the girl admitted, herself.  I can only relate to that moment, when my physical therapist tells me to lay flat, and I feel him picking up my leg that I begin to hyperventilate. I try to talk myself through the pain that I know is going to happen.  He stretches... he stretches, the pain begins and then I'm screaming bloody murder! 

My son says that withdrawals are a pain that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy.  If it's anything like what I've going through, I understand.  Fear of pain is paralyzing.

Yesterday, I told my physical therapist to stop. I had no more to give. I couldn't give him ten stretches. I had to stop at three.  When he relented, I wanted to cry with joy.

Maybe, for my son, that is what his relapses were to him. Relief from the agony and pain.

So, when people write to me and say to tell my son to quit "being a bitch" and suck it up-- well, I can tell you that I wish I could the same for my leg therapy.

We all have different pain tolerances.

I receive numerous emails from desperate parents and family members-- and they ask me what they can do to help their loved one become sober.

It all comes back to the addict. The only thing we can do, is to educate ourselves.  Try to learn as much about addiction that you can. Take classes. Read. Talk to other parents.

To see our own child, suffering from addiction, is an emotional pain that I don't care to repeat.  Yes, I was one of those parents who helped my son to buy the drugs he needed because he was so "sick". No, I didn't buy the drugs for him. But, I gave him money for some "need" he convinced me that he had.  I was in self-denial that the money would go to buy drugs.

That is so hard, because it is counter-intuitive, as a mom, to not want to help our children-- when they are in pain or danger.  I've watched enough Dr. Phil shows, to hear his rebukes that enabling our addicts is the worst thing we can do.

Reluctantly, I told B that I had Oxycontin as my pain management. At first, he was upset. For me. He began to question my physical therapist on why this was the prescribed pain med of choice.

Later, B told me not to worry about hiding the meds from him.

"Mom, don't worry about it. I no longer have cravings. Besides, the last time I relapsed and used Oxy, I didn't even like it. "  He also reminded me, that even if he took Oxy that nothing would happen, since the suboxone blocks those receptors of "pleasure".

While B is still on suboxone therapy, he is no longer using street drugs. B says that he no longer has cravings. He has an entirely new circle of friends. He still has the same job, for more than three years. He pays us rent, never complains and doesn't ask us for money.

He has stepped up to the plate, and is helping to take care of me. Role reversal.  I'm not as mobile as I had hoped-- though it's only been ten days since surgery.  I putt around, on a walker, but I'm not gonna lie-- as of today, I regret having the surgery.

That sounds bad, I know. In two more weeks, I'll be singing a different tune.  I just wish I had known that all my old scar tissue, from previous surgeries, would cause my knee to have a 50% decrease is my range of motion.  I thought I could endure the physical therapy, but I can't take the pain!

A year from now, I hope that all of this will be behind me. I visualize myself walking with my husband, without fear of stairs or steep hills.

With my own son, I still long for him to have an "organic" sobriety.  Clean. No prescribed drugs to keep him from using.

But, you know, this is his own sobriety.  I have learned to let go. I rejoice in God's Grace on us. I am so very thankful that my son isn't strung out on drugs. 

Best of all, I have watched my son's true personality emerge. He looks healthy, again. He laughs a lot. He is respectful and affectionate.

Yes, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

I had to make a decision to endure pain, so that my knee would be good as new. My son had to make a decision that he didn't want to live his life broke, and spending every waking moment thinking where his next fix would come from.

Thank you, Heavenly Father, that nothing is too great for you. Thank you for wiping my tears, holding me when I lived in fear. Thank you for sending people into my life to support me, to educate me and for making the finances and insurance available, to help my son.

Thank you for reaching my son's heart and for helping him to see that he had a choice to make in which path he wanted to follow.

He chose sobriety.

Amen.

Overwhelmed with sorrow for parents of drugs addicts-- like me

When I first started this blog, I was one of those shell-shocked moms. I never, EVER imagined that my son's life would take a bad turn. I was so ignorant about drugs. I mean, I knew about drugs. Heck, when I was a teenager, I puffed the magic dragon-- so to speak. That was in the 70's.  But, I really didn't care for drugs.  I never got into dropping acid, either. I guess those movies, that were shown to me in middle school, scared me to death.

As a divorced mom, I did my best to raise my son with manners.  I tried to be a good role model, as a mom.  In retrospect, I wasn't perfect. But who really is?

I never thought about my kid messing around with pills.  Honest!  I had never even heard of oxycontin, until my son confessed to be that he was addicted to them.  Heroin? Oh, c'mon!  Not my son!  He's a clean cut kid. I knew all his friends. They were all clean cut kids, from nice families. Right?

Wrong.

It has been almost five years since I became the mother of a drug addict.  There will be no cause to celebrate.  While I never expected anything like this to happen, I've had to face that this is the way it is.  In a strange way, my son's drug addiction has made me a better person.  Wait. Did I really say that?

What I mean, is that I have learned to be less judgmental of parents.  Up until that fateful month of April 2008, I would have told anyone that if a kid becomes addicted to drugs, then the parents failed to raise them right.

What a stupid thought that was.  I was so wrong.

Several times a month, I receive emails from families, or even addicts, who tell me there story.  It's always heartbreaking for me.  I try to answer them back, as best as I can.  Yet, how can I possibly give them the comfort or advice that they so desperately need?

I'm not gonna lie.  Sometimes those emails just paralyze my brain and fingers from being able to write a good answer.  I type very, very fast.  I love to write.  But, these emails-- I just feel so sad for them.  Yet, I am honored that they would write to me-- telling me that this little old blog helps them.

Every single Sunday, as I sit and listen to our pastor-- who is one incredibly gifted speaker-- sharing powerful messages, and helping me to better understand the Bible... truly, I feel so inspired and uplifted.  I actually find myself drafting a blog post.  I can't wait to go home, open up the editor of this blog, and share with anyone who will read this blog.   I want to share with them the hope I've found, in my faith in God!

But then, it seems that I can't write.  I get distracted with wanting to read, or doing chores, or cooking and baking (one of my therapeutic passions).  So, I don't write.

I have not responded to a few emails that were written to me in the last two weeks.  I need to do that, and I will.

I admire Ron, from "An Addict in my Son's Bedroom".  Ron found my blog, a few years ago.  At that times, his son (Alex) was in the throes of his addiction to heroin.  I mean, it was bad.  Ron was there, for me, lifting me up during my darkest times.  There were other bloggers, like me, who would visit my blog.  They helped me to get through so much.

So, I feel a bit guilty that I'm not being like Ron.  But, I shouldn't feel that way.  Ron has a great way of writing, and I am happy to say that his son is clean and has turned his life around. Yet, Ron continues to share his message at schools and on his blog.

I am writing this post, because I finally logged on to post comments that have been waiting for my approval (I get too much spam, so I have to moderate this blog.)    I'm not going away for good.

I need to regroup and think about how I can be of some comfort to those of you who follow my blog. To those of you who have written to me, personally, and I have not answered you-- forgive me.  I have not deleted your emails.

I'm going to try and compile responses and post it right here...because the majority of you are desperate, and heartbroken, and you don't know how to save your loved one.

I know that feeling.  I wish I could give you an easy answer.  You need support from people who really understand addiction.

I'm sorry, but I need to end this post, because I have piles of laundry to do and bedtime comes very early for me on work nights.

My son is almost one year clean.  He has the same job. I will say this-- every single friend that he had, who he used with-- they are out of his life. Gonzo.  He doesn't hang out with anyone who uses drugs. Amen for that. 

Another Year, as the Mother of a Drug Addict...Out with Old, In with the New

Today, is the last day of 2012.  It's a quiet morning and I finally have some "me" time to sit, reflect, pray and just "be".  

Gosh, it's been a very long time since I've written a blog post. I must appear to have abandoned my blog. That hasn't been my intention. After all, I've invested a lot of time, and money (having it professionally designed.) I have poured out my heart and soul, and have documented my experience as the mother of a drug addict. So, why am I not blogging much? I have been blessed to receive emails, or posts, from people whose lives are being ripped apart by the scourge of drug addiction. When I read those emails, I feel so bad for them. I want, so much, to have just the right words to say-- to give them comfort and hope. I'm embarrassed to say, that I've gone silent. Again.


I think it's because I have come to peace about my son's situation. It wasn't easy, I can promise you. I try not to do this, very often-- but, if I do allow myself to go back to 2008,  I can almost recreate that feeling of helplessness. I can remember the shock and horror of it all.

My son's drug addiction put a lot of stress in my marriage. I learned things about myself, I didn't realize. My relationship with my son was so fragile, and we were not getting along at all. I felt like I was such a total failure.

For you-- if you have stumbled across  this blog post-- and you are in the throes of addiction...be it you, or someone you love-- my message to you is that there is hope.  The best advice I can give, to a person who is watching someone's life being destroyed by addiction is this-- take care of you.

When addiction comes into your life,  it can bring out the worst in everyone.  I might upset a few people who read this, but I'm going to make this raw and honest.  I was guilty of this, and it shows in my earliest posts. Ready?

I got caught up in the drama. I became a whiner and complainer. I wanted people to come to my aid, to rescue me, to coddle me, to feel sorry for me. Oh, woe is me!   I finally saw where I was going, and I decided that I needed to find a different way to learn to cope with watching my son's life unravel.

What did I do? I came to understand what codependence is. I began to dig deeper in my relationship with God. My spirituality began to grow stronger and stronger, and I began to find those quiet times of prayer and meditation.

I also began to learn more about addiction, and I learned a lot of addicts, themselves.

I began to admit that I was enabling my son's drug addiction and I began to gather enough courage to understand that saying "no" was helping my son to see where his life was going.

So, how is my son doing?

B is 10 months free and clear from using any kind of street drug-- be it heroin, oxy or smoking weed.  Please note that I didn't say he's 10 months clean and sober.  From an NA point of view, he's not considered clean, since he is on a very low dose of suboxone. He is under the monthly care of a good addiction doctor. (Thank you, President Obama--and my husband's job-- for making my son's health coverage good for two more years. Amen.)

From my point of view, my son is clean. I'll tell you why--
He's held his job for over two years, and still loves it and is well-liked by his co-workers.
B pays $600.00 a month in rent, to us, never once complaining-- and it's always on time.
B has cash on him, all the time. This Christmas, he saved $200.00 to buy gifts. He looked so proud and pleased with himself, as he gave generously to us and to his uncles and cousin.
B has a new set of friends. He calls them "geeks", because they're all online "gamers". 
B has matured into a respectful, and interesting young man. He is no problem  as a roommate. When he isn't working, he's in his room, gaming on his BIG TV that he bought with his own money.

As a mom, I'd love to see him spending far less time with video games. I wish he'd go back to playing golf (that he's so good at), finding a career that will pay him benefits. I wish he didn't smoke. I wish he'd save more of his income, for his future.  He's talking about moving into his own place, this Spring, with a new friend that he works with. I'll miss him, but it's time for him to be completely on his own.

But, that's what moms do. We worry about our kids, because we're nurturers.. and dangerously wired to be enablers and coddlers. 

What's most important, is that I have learned to "let go" of my son's life.  By that, I don't open his mail. I don't snoop in his room. I don't question where he goes and I don't give him advice. I rest, assured, that he's not using drugs.  I know, I know, so many of us "thought" our kids weren't using drugs-- and they were.

The reason I know my son isn't using is simple. Drug addicts (unless they deal drugs) don't have money on them. They struggle with keeping a job. They look gaunt and unhealthy. They're secretive. Things go missing-- money, valuables. 

B looks healthy, and our relationship has been restored. Sometimes, when he gets home from work, I'm still in the living room. He sits and just chats with me. I love those precious moments. We chat about life, work, movies. 

My marriage is intact, and my husband treats my son as an adult. The two of them get along great, which makes my very happy.  It's interesting how our finances are much better, now. I didn't fully realize how my my son's drug addiction cost us.  B never asks us for money, now. Halleluia.

I'm not trying to brag, here. I'm rejoicing. If you're still reading this, I hope that I have shown you that a drug addict can get their life back. It isn't easy, and I'm not fooling myself. I do know that this could all change.

There are "trolls" out there who have written rude comments and emails, telling me that my son's use of suboxone is just temporary. They have told me that he'll go back to using, as soon as he quits using it.  I say to them, you don't know my son. Every person's story is different.

Bottom line, I have come to realize that only the addict can make the choice to get clean and sober. There is nothing in the world that I could do to make my son realize that he didn't want the life of constantly looking for his next fix.   The only help I gave my son, that worked, was to not help him-- and love him.

I'll repeat that. The only help I gave my son, that worked, was to not help him-- and love him..

I am a follower and believer in Jesus Christ. I believe there is a God. I don't worship the Universe, but I worship the creator of the Universe. I study his Word (the Bible) without shame.  Without my spiritual faith in God, I would not have had the strength to get through the five years of hell that B's drug addiction put all of us through.

2012 was a good year.  It wasn't perfect, but nothing and none of us are.

I look forward to seeing what 2013 has in store for us.

May the love and Grace of God, pour upon you.  Whether you know Him or not, he knows you. Be blessed, be loved, love others-- and be filled with peace and hope in your lives.

Long Time Gone

 

 I love you guys! I know that sounds superficial, but how else do I say that I am grateful for the emails and comments that you've left for me to read.  

It has been two-and-a-half months since I've logged on to this blog. Whoa! I had some comments to approve and post.

Where have I been?

Home. Surfing the next. Cooking. Baking. Resting.  Really, I've become such a homebody and rarely venture out.  My job drains me of my energy, plus I get up before dawn.

My son is okay.  Truly, he is.  Oh, I've received "hate mail" that my son isn't sober, because he's using suboxone.  Who wants to split hairs about this?

The way I see it-- my son isn't buying heroin.  He is thinking clearly, now.  He is still working at the same place-- almost three years, now.  He is paying rent. He has a small savings. He hasn't sold his big Plasma TV (that he bought himself), nor his video games.

I'll take my son, on suboxone, thank you very much.  He says he has no desire to use.

I have my son back.

I have been procrastinating writing to all of you who still read my blog.  I have so much to say! I've received emails and comments from parents of addicts and from addicts.

I think I find it hard to log on to this blog, because it sometimes feels as though I'm ripping off a scab, from a wound that has taken a very long time to heal.

Last weekend, I took my son with me for a weekend in San Francisco.  We stayed at a nice hotel.  He said it was weird to be so close to the Tenderloin District, where he used to score drugs. For a quick moment, he said, he had thoughts of using-- and just as quickly, he said it was gone.

He made me very happy, dressed nicely, as my guest at a very swanky dinner.  The women loved him! He was polite, well-spoken and absolutely nobody would ever guess that he was once addicted to oxy-contin and heroin.  They don't need to know, either.

I wish I could write more, and I so hope to write again-- very soon.  I received a comment from a drug addict who had an ax to grind about his lot in life.  He didn't sugar-coat words with me.

I'll share it next time.

You know, when people attack my faith in God...or attack how I handled my son's addiction-- I try to let it roll off my back.  I cannot allow them to steal my joy.

You see, I realized something really important, today.

The key to my joy-- despite all that I've been through-- is that I maintain an attitude of gratitude. I have stopped being a victim.  I complain, still-- but I catch myself doing it.

I remind myself of the things that are so important to me.  While my son will always be a drug addict-- he alive, and living at home with us. He is polite and respectful.  We have healed our rifts and I have forgiven him.

I am married to a wonderful man, who is kind and loving.  We are thankful for our house, jobs, finances, family and friends.

I no longer worry about what people think of me being the parent of a drug addict.  I will take what's happened as life experience-- and if I can encourage anyone, then none of this was in vain.

I will never apologize, nor feel intimidated that I love the Lord with all my heart, mind and strength. I do not want to be judgmental of others (though, I battle with that often).   I wish I had the gift of ministry, but I have so much to learn.

My stomach is rumbling, and that means I need to cook dinner.

I'll try not to stay away so long.  I pray for so many of you.

If I have not responded to your email or comments-- please forgive me.  I mean to, but time seems to have kept me from doing so.   Time flies too fast for me!

Pain in her eyes...

For those of you who are new to my blog, I work at a public high school. No, I'm not a teacher.  I work with parents and students, in the business/counseling office--and I love my job.

I once shared a story, about a student who opened up to me. (You can read it here.)  Sadly, a couple years later, that student died in a car crash. He had been drinking and was high on drugs. I was deeply saddened to hear of his death, and yet I wasn't completely surprised.

This week, a mother came into the office.  I asked her how her daughter was doing-- "A" had graduated in 2008.   "Mom" shook her head and my heart sank.

I clearly remember "A", because she was a beautiful girl... a cheerleader and a great student. She was one of our TA's (teacher's aides) and so I got to know her.  Something happened, towards the end of her senior year. I could see it.  It was the same time that my son was going through his rehab.  In fact, I was very open to "A" about my son's addiction to oxy and heroin.  I remember "A" listening to me, and sense she was reaaaaaaally listening to what I had to say. 

Fast forward.  "A" is now living in another state.  I had seen her a couple of years ago, and she looked completely different.  Really different.  She had lots of tattoos, and she remarked to me that her "mother was going to kill her" when she saw it. Yep, I thought-- this won't go over well with her mom.  Her mom, in fact, is a beautiful woman-- classy. Dresses very nicely.  I knew her since she, herself, was a little girl.  I don't know her well, now, but she's always been friendly towards me.

When "J" shook her head, I could see the pain in her eyes.  It made me so very, very sad. I wanted to hug her, but I didn't.  I didn't want to draw attention to her. She knew.... she understood that I understood.

I remember that same bravado I had to keep... when my throat would constrict, and the tears felt like they were going to explode.   I'd shake my head, and compose myself.

I can't cry. No, I cannot break down.

It's bad.  "A" is in jail, as is her boyfriend.  It doesn't look good. Dealing drugs and fire arms. Ouch.

It's so hard to believe that this gorgeous young woman, in the cheerleader's uniform is facing felonies.

Her mom said she's had to let go.  But, I could see the pain...

"Let go".  Can we really do this?  How can a mother, who gave birth to this baby, let go?

I gave "J" my blog address.  I hope she comes here to read.  She's a smart woman, and in talking with her I can tell that she's pretty much up-to-date on what's involved in being the parent of a drug addict.

If you are reading this, "J", I want you to know that I have been praying for you and "A".   As I was praying for you, I got to thinking that addiction has long tentacles.  When a loved one is an addict, it affects everyone in it's path.  It's like finding out that someone you love has an incurable disease.   It's like a cancer-- you can only hope and pray that the treatment will stop it, and it will save their life.

Yet, we must prepare ourselves that we could lose our loved one.  Oh, how I remember that pain and terror myself.  There was a point, where I feared for my son's life.  He was hanging out with some pretty shady people, and I was so afraid he'd end up being shot and left for dead.

I could not fathom the possibility that my son would end up in jail.  That never happened-- and, believe me, I thank God for that more than you could ever know.  According to my son, he had many very close calls, but he got lucky... they didn't find the "stuff".

The most painful thing that any mother can be asked to do, is to "let go".  To be told that we must hang up the phone, when they call for money... or refuse to bail them from jail... or to not allow them to stay with us-- as long as they are strung out and using-- well, I remember that it felt as thought I had to watch my son drowning in a stormy sea, and I could only watch from the bow of the ship-- and I was not allowed to send him a life raft.

Today, my son is not using drugs. The storm has subsided, and I can exhale and move forward with my life. My marriage has never been better. My son and I have restored our relationship.  Amen.

I would be lying if I said that I believe "it's over".  I'm terrified, sometimes, at the possibility that my son could relapse.  It's a possibility, but I choose to live each day with gratitude that today is not the day. Isn't that what they teach addicts?  One day at a time...

I do not want to become apathetic towards other people's plight with addiction. I do not want to forget the pain that I felt, because I want to bless someone with compassion and comfort.  I wish I could say or write something that would be the "all knowing answer"-- but I'm just a mom, who loves her son and doesn't have any kind of counseling degree.

I saw the pain in "J's" eyes, and for a moment-- I was right there with her.  I remembered the fear and pain I felt not even a year ago.

I pray that "A" will beat that demon. I pray to see her looking healthy, with her beautiful face and smile restored.  I pray for her to break free of those who are holding her in bondage, and to start her life over again.  I have no doubt that her mother wants her back.  "J" has let go, to save her.  She loves her. I saw it in her eyes.

I don't want to forget.  I want to rejoice in today, and thank God for blessing our home.

Today, I received another email from a mom who is in pain.  Thank you for writing to me.  I feel your pain, too.

May you find comfort from those who truly understand your plight.  May you find strength and wisdom in what you should, or shouldn't do, with the addict that you love.  May you find comfort from our Abba Father, our God in heaven.  Please don't blame him, because this is not his doing.  We are living in a sinful world. It's so hard to live a life that is free of sin, because temptation is everywhere.  I need my faith in God to help me be strong when temptation comes-- and it does. Because of what I went through, my faith grew ever stronger, as I cried out to the Lord. He comforted me, and restored so many things in my life.

Psalm 121

A song of ascents.

¹ I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
    where does my help come from?
² My help comes from the Lord,
    the Maker of heaven and earth.

³ He will not let your foot slip—
    he who watches over you will not slumber;
⁴ indeed, he who watches over Israel
    will neither slumber nor sleep.

⁵ The Lord watches over you—
    the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
⁶ the sun will not harm you by day,
    nor the moon by night.

⁷ The Lord will keep you from all harm—
    he will watch over your life;
⁸ the Lord will watch over your coming and going
    both now and forevermore.