OXYCONTIN and OPIATE ADDICTION-A Mother's Story

Sins of the Father (...and mother)

2012-01-21T11:29:00.000-08:00

I'm as ready as I'll ever be, to share my testimony to my readers (and myself). If you've arrived to this post, because you searched for "the sins of the father", or for whatever reason you are here-- this is my story. It will be a series, because I'm 56 years old now. There are several reasons that I want to share my testimony. Primarily, if you know my story, then you will find out that I have survived a lifetime of pain, hurt, betrayal and sorrow. God got me through all of it, but at that time I wasn't believing in Him. It wasn't until He brought me down to my knees, that I realized what was missing in my life. I was missing faith, and I had to learn who God really is. I found the answers in his Word-- the bible.

In the bible, there is a passage that I want to share with you.:

John 9:1-3 (New International Version)
As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"
"Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.

The sins of the father are not passed on to his offspring. Each person is responsible for his or her own actions and own actions and salvation. Just because the father is an alcoholic does not mean his offspring are going to be alcoholics, for instance, though it is a common misconception. The same goes for a parent who is an abuser. The child may have no tendency toward abuse and may even despise abuse. There were clearly two schools of thought in the Old Testament, but Jesus taught that each of us is responsible for our actions and that the message of God is love.

(Source: Read more: http://wiki.answers.com/Q/The_sins_of_the_father_shall_be_visited_upon_the_son_a_thousand_times#ixzz1k7N8rLrf

I've been writing this blog for close to four years. It's my story of coming to grips that my son is addicted to opiates. It's filled with pain, sorrow, anger, frustration and confusion. As the posts begin to grow, so has my own story of acceptance and growing even closer and stronger in my faith in God. My blog's story, that begins in April of 2008, has also helped me to take a personal assessment in what kind of parent I was to my son.    My son has taken on some of my traits-- some are good, and some are the ones I wish I didn't pass on to him.

My life was filled with its own dysfunction, and to this day, I still struggle with some of the ways my parents raised me. Because of their traits they have passed on to me, I have a short-temper, can be over-sensitive and I battle to keep my controlling nature tempered. So, I begin:

My family

I was born in 1955, the daughter of an handsome Army soldier. My mother was born and raised in Southern Germany in 1924. She was the daughter of a master tailor. My mother didn't not have a good relationship with her mother. When she was very young, she went to live with her grandmother, who owned a popular and successful restaurant. My mother, and her family, lived through the horrors of war. She personally witnessed bombings in her own hometown, had been briefly captured (and let go) by American soldiers, as the war was ending.

My father was born in 1922, the son of a Spanish man who married a Mexican woman from Southern California. His life wasn't very happy either. He joined the Marines when he was 17 (yes, he lied about his age) and fought in Guadalcanal. I don't know what happened, but he later joined the Army and fought in the South Pacific, against the Japanese during WWII. He killed, and also lived through the atrocities of war. Consequently, he had a quick temper and had a black belt in karate. He later became a Marksman, and trained soldiers how to shoot. He was good at it.

My parents met when he was stationed in Austria. My mother had an illegitimate son, from an affair with an American solider, who shipped out as soon as he found out she was pregnant. (Funny thing is I found this out when I was about 11 years old. Until the day my mother died, she never admitted that my half-brother wasn't my full-brother. I never told her that I knew. She was a very private person.) My father married my mother, moved her and my half-brother to America (and he adopted him) and then the trouble began. My mother, who thought that moving to America would be a glamorous life, quickly discovered that her mother-in-law and relatives were poor farming Mexicans. She became bitter and angry, and the marriage went downhill from there. My father, began to hit my mother and she became the bitter and silent wife. My brother was born in 1954 and I then I came along, when my father was stationed in Honolulu, Hawaii.

My memories, for most of my childhood, is that I never saw my parents showing affection. I can vividly remember some nights, sharing a bedroom with my brother, and hearing the screaming and the sounds of crashing and my mother being hit. I recall crying, and my brother trying to comfort me. To this day, I remember a night when I ran into the kitchen and saw my father holding my mother's head on a cutting board, with a knife over her neck and screaming at her-- while she was screaming back, with fear. That horrible picture is something I have never been able to erase, since I was about six years old.

As I grew older, I began to receive the beatings, too. I've been picked up and thrown against walls, whipped with his thick belt until I and welts all over me, and had wet my pants with terror. My half-brother, received some of the worst of my father's temper. My other brother (whom I adored) probably got his share of beatings, but I can't recall. I always felt as though he was the "Golden Child" because he was gifted with artistic talent. He was very close to my father, and they did things together. When my father was stationed in Korea, I remember that there was peace in the house. Somewhat.

My mother, likewise, hit us with wooden cooking spoons, a belt and she could swear like a drunken sailor. She had a quick temper, too, and she was really strict. I became a rebellious adolescent, who would back talk her while my father was in Korea. Like many teenagers, I grew to hate and resent her. We did not have a loving mother-daughter relationship. I was not allowed to host sleep-overs, yet alone go to any. I could not have friends over for dinner. She didn't understand this "American nonsense".

My parents finally divorced, I was so relieved. It was a bitter divorce, and my brother moved in with his dad and I lived with my mother. My mother's bitterness worsened my already troubled relationship with my father, and the camps were divided. My oldest brother moved out of the house when he was 17 years old. Years later, he told me that he left because my father threatened that "something bad" would happen to him if he stayed.

My High School Years

I recall that in my freshman year of high school, that I isolated myself in school. I was at a small parochial school, and miserable. I didn't feel as though I fit in. My parents weren't religious, and we did not practice religion at home. I was told I was Catholic, likes it's a genetic thing. Now, I realized that I would sit alone at lunch and breaks, hoping that someone would notice me. They didn't. The school closed down, due to lack of funds and I was so happy. I could finally go to a public school.

At the public high school, I smoked my first joint. I'd smoke weed, but truly more as a recreational thing to do with friends. I never tried acid, which was big in the 70's. I dabbled with cocaine, but more out of curiosity. I never bought it, and fortunately, I don't have that addictive gene for drugs.

I didn't get into much trouble as a teenager, because when I wasn't in school, I had to work at my mother's German Delicatessen and small restaurant. I hated her for making me learn how to run her business, and for having to wear dirndls-- but I soon caught on that boys began to take notice of me. Ha! My mother kept a really close rein on me, and I was forbidden to date until I was 16. Even then, I was painfully shy.

The Beginning of my Adult Life

Shortly after my 18th birthday, my mother brought me a suitcase and said it was time to move out of the house. I had a job at a resort, I found a cute apartment, and I left. My mother told me that I was to never ask her for money, but if I was hungry that she would give me food.

I partied it up! My brother moved in with me, and let the good times rock and roll. I was 18 years old, and had worked my way up to the secretary of the General Manager of the resort and country club. He was a handsome European, 32 years old, highly educated, spoke five languages and had a very powerful personality. One day, he asked me on a date. I was so nervous, and was told to keep our relationship secret. I fell in-love, for the first time in my life.   He took me to fancy restaurants, parties and five-star hotels in big cities. I wasn't old enough to drink, and I was so nervous being around these wealthy and older people. My mother was so excited for me, because she wanted me to be with a European with all of this man's background and financial/social status.

My Young Marriage

One day, X went away on a trip to visit his father in Canada. Apparently, he got busted by the INS for having an expired student Visa. Stupid (and naive) me, said "yes" when he told me what happened and he asked me to marry him. Six weeks later, we were married at a famous Catholic church. He paid for, and planned everything. I wasn't allowed to invite my friends-- only my immediate family. I remember being very scared, and my mother was so excited for me. It was a beautiful wedding, and my dress was gorgeous (I still have it, vacuum sealed. I have no idea what to do with it. Gosh, I was tiny in size, then!) Shortly before the wedding, I wanted to call it off. X was being a jerk-- controlling, jealous and far too old and mature for me. But, I was in-love, and I wanted that white gown and chapel wedding.   I was too immature to realize that I was making a big mistake. The invitations had gone out, and that was that. I had to quit my job, because I couldn't work for my husband. So, my father walked me down the aisle...

On our wedding night, I remember a group of his drunken friends came to our suite. I remember crying, as one of the wives helped to remove my veil, gown and undo my fancy hair-do. I remember crying myself to sleep, while I could hear the sound of a poker game, and the smell of cigarette smoke. The men played poker into the wee hours of the night. My wedding night wasn't romantic at all. It was lonely and I was scared.

We left for a six-week honeymoon to Europe. I was mesmerized by the sights and sounds of Iceland, London, Belgium, Germany, Austria, Hungary and Romania. In retrospect, those are the best memories I have of that marriage. I was homesick, though, and ready to come back to America. My experience visiting the "Iron Curtain" gave me an appreciation of what it means to be an American, and I still feel that way.

My Divorce

Two years later, I divorced him. I grew tired of his flaunting the women he was cheating with on me. I grew tired of having to be inspected if I passed his criteria for what I wore, or how I looked. I did not belong in his world of country clubs and wealthy people. When that marriage ended, he had broken me. I felt worthless. He once asked me why I couldn't be as beautiful as his (new) secretary...or as smart as her... he'd tell me I was ugly and stupid, and would never amount to anything.

He broke my spirit, and it took years for me to recover from that.

So, there I was, 21 years old and divorced. I discovered that I was pregnant (by him). I quietly had an abortion. To this day, I often wonder what my 35 year old son or daughter might have looked like. As a Christian, I regret this chapter in my life a great deal. I have asked for God's forgiveness, that I killed a child, and I was a lot more careful about birth control. I never told my mother about this, because I was too ashamed.

Now that I think of it, Mr. X never told me he loved me. Neither did my parents.

For the next few years, I had good times. I worked, as a travel agent, and visited all parts of the world. I dated, but never had a serious relationship with men. I didn't trust them. I used them and I'd dump them. They used me. I now realize that I wanted to hurt them, as much as I'd been hurt and rejected. When I was 24, I met a man who owned a business next door to where I worked as a travel agent. He'd wave at me, and I'd think to myself that he was attractive. He was to become my husband of sixteen years, the father of my son...

End of Part I. More to come...

For today: My son has been off work for two days. Just the other night, it was raining outside. My husband was on his laptop, my son was curled up on the couch reading. I was on my laptop. I recall looking at my son, and feeling a sense of gratitude that I know where he is. I have to say, that I am dreading the day he has to move out. He's 23 years old, and it's time. I feel a sense of peace, that I know he's home with us alive and well. He's still taking suboxone, feeling fine and he loves his job. I am thankful for that. I pray that my son will be able to earn enough money to survive on his own. He will need to learn how to manage his money, because he is used to the comforts of home that my husband and I have-- from years of hard work, scrimping, saving and managing our finances. It isn't easy, and I am thankful for where my life is today. I give God all the glory and thanks for this.

Thank you for your comments. My thoughts and prayers for today...

2012-01-18T19:43:00.000-08:00

I am deeply touched by those of you who have left comments on my previous post. I truly am. I've had a pretty rough week, at work, but I want to spend just a few minutes to say that I've read every comment. I feel your pain. I will dive deep into sharing my testimony, but not until the weekend. That will take time, and I'm still stressed out from today's work day.

Tonight, I am particularly touched by this comment, and I just have to write with what I hope will be some encouragement:

Thanks so much for starting this website. I am at such a loss as how to help my 27 year old son. My only defense is to pray for him and have faith that The Lord will ultimately work this all for the good, but I must admit that there are days when my faith is very shallow. My son has had this addiction to opiates for almost 11 years now. In the past few months he has gone from hydrocodone to oxycodin. He is injecting it in his arm. I am so terrified that he is going to overdose. I don't know what to do. He saw a doctor and received a rx for suboxone, but he is not taking it as perscribed.He lives at home with me at the present time. I am thankful that I have found this website and for your kind support. My hands shake as I write these words. Please pray for my son, all of our sons.
D

Dear "D". I think that most of us are at a loss as how to help our addict. Especially, when it's our own flesh and blood.   Prayer is, of course, what helps a believer to find the strength to live through this. I pray, every day, that my son will find true sobriety. I encourage you to pray for your son, but please remember to pray for yourself. Pray that you will be led to the resources to help you to learn how to help yourself. You see, as parents, it is so easy to want to fix this. We feel that we must protect our addict from harm. We cannot bear to see our drug addict child (or young adult) throw their life away. We fear they will come to harm, or even worse, death. I truly understand that, as I've lived those fearful moments.

The reason your faith can become shallow, is that we wonder why God doesn't fix this? I mean, if God is so great, then why does he let my daughter/son suffer?

There's the million dollar question. This is, most likely, why a lot of people give up on God. Why many believe he's a lot of "hooey".   I won't go into a lengthy theological discussion on this. For tonight, I will simply say, that perhaps he is-- but not the way we want him to.

You see, with my son, I can see God's work in all of it. I believe that God's Grace was poured abundantly on me and my son. The miracle of being led to finding a drug treatment center took our health insurance, just happened to have a bed available-- and being handed a piece of paper for a drug interventionist who just happened to answer his phone, was all answer to prayer. I just know it.
That the interventionist happened to have an appointment within two hours of my calling, that my son agreed to go, and that this man reached into my son's heart and soul and talked him into going into treatment is a miracle.

The treatment center that my son stayed at (two hours away), provided education that family members were required to attend. Four weekends in a row, my husband and I drove four hours, round-trip, to attend classes.   My son, and all the resident addicts, eventually joined our class and we had a chance to listen to them talk-- and we also got to speak. It was all run like Al-Anon or Nar-Anon meetings.

I learned so much! Dear "D" and those of you who say you don't know what to do-- I cannot give you all the answers. What I can tell you is that knowledge is power. Please educate yourself about the drugs your addict is using. Read. If you can afford it, please go to a counselor who specializes in addiction. Ask lots of questions.

You need to learn a world of lingo that you never thought you would. There are two very important words that you need to learn-- #1 Codependence #2 Enabling    If you son is 27 years old, and living with you, and he is still using drugs then you need to understand #1 and #2.

Believe me, I fully understand how difficult it is to be counseled that allowing a drug addict to live in your home, who is using, is not helping them and not helping you. Oh, how I know that pain. Kicking my son out of my house hurt. I felt, in a way, that I had lost him to death. I felt such guilt, that if anything happened to him that I would never forgive myself.

But, that is what I had to do. It was the most painful, and yet what had to happen. My son needed to run out of options, and resources to be able to have money to use.

I am not saying that you need to kick your son out. I'm saying, please find professional help so that you can understand that the addict must make that choice to want to be clean.   We can be making things worse, if we give an addict a safe place to live and to use.   What we think is helpful, may actually be harmful.

If you are at the beginning of my journey-- new to the world of having a loved one in your family who is addicted to drugs, please know that you are not alone. Please try not to blame yourself. I cannot stress enough how important it is for you to take care of YOU. This is a very difficult situation to be in.   What took me a while to understand is that I had absolutely no power in making my son choose sobriety.   There were times I'd yell, threaten, use guilt, beg and even try to bribe my son into seeing what he was doing to himself and to us.

It is a miracle, today, that my son does not have a crime record. It is a miracle that my son narrowly escaped being shot, stabbed and survived being car jacked. It is a miracle that my son survived overdosing (and I never knew about it).

I do believe that God wants to help us. But, unless we come to him with our heart's desire to trust Him, he allows us to suffer the consequences of our own choices.

I will explain this, more, when I share how I made some really bad and stupid choices, in my past and how God let me stumble and fall. He finally brought me down to my knees, and I had to humble myself. My life has never been the same, since. That's because I became a Jesus-Loving Christian.

Had I not suffered the way that I had, I would not have the faith and strength to endure the pain of being the mother of a drug addict.

For that reason, I hope to pay it forward, with this blog. If I can speak to just one person's heart, and encourage them, I am doing God's will.

Heavenly Father, I lift up those who read this blog and who are feeling pain and fear over their loved one. I pray that you will give them strength and courage. Please reveal yourself to them, so that they would know that you are there with them. I pray for those who are addicted, that they would want to be helped. Please, guide them to the resources that will help them cleanse their body of the poisons that are making them so sick.   You are the God of hope, and pray that you will bless them abundantly with hope for a new start and better life.
Amen.

Is God Using Me to Help Despairing Parents of Drug Addicts? My Story... Part 1

2012-01-16T09:13:00.000-08:00

It has been almost four years, since I first discovered that my son was addicted to drugs. Three of them were pure hell. Scratch that. The first year was totally agony for me. It was heartbreaking, and I was scared for my son-- and myself.

I can clearly remember the day that my son's addiction hit a wall. It was the day that his father called me, because his car had broken down in the East side of town. His father was taking my son to buy heroin. Only his father thought he was helping him to buy "hash".

Did your jaw drop, reading this?

In looking back, I can understand why his father (we've been divorced since my son was eight years old) felt he had to help my son buy drugs. I'm not saying it was right. But, you see, when you love your child more than anything on earth-- it makes you do things to protect them from harm.

When I go back to read my first entry on my blog, I can clearly remember how afraid and confused that I was. I honestly and truly had no idea what oxycontin was. Nor did I know much about heroin. Sure, I've seen pictures (and movies) of junkies shooting up heroin. But, I had no idea that one could smoke it. Neither did my son's father. He had found the crumpled up pieces of foil, with the tell-tale traces of that ugly black stripe. It's called a "trail". B's father bought my son's lie that it was "hash".

So, here I sit, with a heavy heart. It's not my son who is the cause of it. It's that I'm starting to get daily private emails from parents who are just beginning my journey.   When I read them, I am filled with deep sorrow for them. I can read their pain. They ask me if I can help them. They don't know where to start, or where to go.

If you are new to my blog, then I am glad that you found me. Who am I? How can I help? Do I really have enough wisdom that I can give them good advice?

I am a mother of a 23 year old son, who has struggled with drug addiction since he was in middle school. He is my only son. I have no college degree. I have been working since I was 11 years old, because my mother owned a business that was food-related. I am the child of parents who divorced when I was 14, and I could not have been happier.

I will stop right there. I'm going to jump into a new direction, but I'll return here.

I have always loved to write. Writing has been my way of expressing my feelings. I've always been an avid reader. Reading fiction, as a little girl, was always my way of escape. I've been told that my writing style is very raw. In some ways, it is.   I type faster than I can write, from years and years of jobs related to the secretarial field. That's why I jump around, so please bear with me.

I want to share my life story with you, and it might take a few entries. There is a reason why I feel I need to do this.    I want to share the story of how my life was a total mess, until I became a Christian in 1996. There is a purpose to why I feel so compelled to do this. I hope that by sharing my own story is that you can better understand why I believe that God carried me through this entire painful process of my son's drug addiction.

I have a testimony to share, and I want to do it. I'm quite sure that I'm not some lunatic who claims that I hear the voice of God. I don't believe that I'm a religious fanatic, who wants to climb up on a pulpit to try and convert all of you to becoming a Jesus Freak.

I am a woman, in her mid-fifties, who has survived through physical child abuse, abusive relationships, three divorces (there, I said it). As a result, I have battled against insecurities about myself, low self-esteem, anger management issues and honesty. It wasn't until 1996 that my own life had hit rock-bottom, and that's when I went to church for the first time in 20 years. I had turned my back on the hypocritical Catholic upbringing I had been raised with. I finally found out who God really is, and I became a believer. That journey has been equally hard, and I still struggle with living my life according to God's will.

I wanted to be a mom. I wanted it desperately. I loved the first years of raising my son. I loved being the center of my son's universe, during those toddler years. He was such a perfect little child.

I made plenty of mistakes as a parent. In looking back, my anger issues and child abuse, made me lose patience with my son more often than I should have. But, I cannot blame my mistakes on his addiction.

I'm going to stop right here. For now. I have led up to one very important point, in this brief intro do my life.

No matter what mistakes I made, as a parent, it is not my fault that my son is a drug addict. I'm leaving to take my son to get his car fixed. While we're in the car, on the return trip, I'm going to tell B that we need to sit down and I'd like to start sharing his side of the story.

I do believe that God wants to use my story to help others. I feel it so deeply, and only a believer in Christ can understand exactly what I am saying. I don't hear God's voice, audibly. But, I can feel his prompting to do something. I've thought of abandoning my blog, because I got tired of reliving all the drama of B's story. My readership had declined.

However, my readership is going up again. I'm getting the emails that I mentioned at the beginning of this post.

I have a story to share, and there are so many hurting parents who don't know what to do. I'm not a licensed counselor. I'm not a medical professional. I'm a God-believing, Jesus Loving mom, who has found acceptance in my son's situation. Today, my son is not using and I thank God for that. His battle isn't over. He has good days. He has bad days.

My son reads my blog now, and I share the emails with him. I pray that God wants to use us both to share our story.

May those who are reading this, find hope and comfort, by the Grace of God. You are in my heart. I read your emails, and try to respond on an individual basis. Please subscribe to my blog, as my time is so limited to write to each and every one of you. I pray that I can increase how often I blog, and that what I write will help you to find encouragement and support.

Please leave a comment, if you would like. You can leave it anonymously. I will try to address your questions and issues.

I have to go. I'll be back.

In Him,

Saying Goodbye to 2011 --- and what I learned, this year

2011-12-31T10:06:00.000-08:00

To those of you who leave comments and write private emails to me-- thank you. It seems that I only write an average of one post a month, but that doesn't mean I'm not reading comments. I try to respond to you, if you have an email. My son has been telling me that I should leave feedback, on the post. I've thought about it, but I'm not sure if someone-- especially an "anonymous" checks back.

Do you?

My blog has taken on a whole new direction, and I feel as though it's a good fit for me. The direction my blog appears to be headed is that I am speaking to the hearts of parents/loved ones who are very new to this world of addiction.

Over the last few weeks, I've received private emails from parents just like me. They have poured out their hearts, and shared stories that leave me feeling that I can relate to their sorrow and pain. If they have an email, I write back. Sometimes, they don't.

As for my son, he's still on suboxone, and I pretty much leave him alone to deal with it. He's got is own forums he goes to, and I don't read his posts. Overall, he says that he is feeling great. But, there are some mornings, when I can tell that he isn't. Sometimes he's lethargic. He admits that he gets cravings, every so often. What I do see is that he has an appetite, and that's a good thing. (We're trying to coordinate a time when he will sit down, so I can interview him. During the holidays, he's working six days a week at the restaurant. B wants to share his thoughts with my readers, so it will happen.)

I am very thankful that my son is no longer going to the methadone clinic. This is $350.00 a month that his father doesn't have to pay-- since he can't afford it. B is no longer a slave to having to wake up by a certain time, to get his daily dose. My observation is that B looks better on suboxone than he did on methadone. If B missed a dose of his methadone, I would see him fly into a full-blown panic. He'd buy it on the street, or ... well, I really don't want to think of what he bought to get through.

2011 was a year where I learned to detach. That's why I don't blog as often as I once did. For me, I found myself feeding off sharing my personal drama. I admit, that I began to need the sympathy and support from my readers a little too much. That's not to say that I didn't appreciate it. I just realized that I was rehearsing my anger, fear, pain, frustration and heartbreak. I began to learn to give all of it to God, first. As I began to detach from feeding into my son's drama, I began to allow more joy to come in to my heart.

Throughout my son's story of his addiction-- which isn't over-- I learned that life had to go on. I could choose to drown in my own self-pity, or I could look ahead, and to trust that God would give me the strength and courage that I needed.

I had to disengage from letting my son's drama affect my own marriage I had to learn to understand that my husband needed to be recognized for his value and contribution through all of this.

Whenever I felt afraid or anger, towards B, I began to pray more fervently.

I could feel the change within me. I began to feel a sense of peace-- and I realized that I had finally crossed over into Acceptance.

I have finally accepted that my son is a drug addict. He always will be. I have accepted that there is nothing I can do to control his addiction. I have accepted my son for who he is-- right now, at this moment, on this day.

Most importantly, I know that I love him for who he is. Despite his struggles with honesty, I can see that he is really trying. I cannot truly know what it's like to be in his skin. I can only feel empathy for that beast that is within him, that wants to take over his struggle for sobriety.

Life isn't easy. Even for me, despite my feelings of being in a good place, I have my moments when life throws me a curve ball. For addicts, it saddens me how they cannot find a way of coping with those curve balls, and that's when the need to use overtakes them.

Whenever I read an email, from a parent who is just beginning the journey of having an addict in the family-- I pray that you will find that ability to detach from the drama that addiction brings in to your life. You do need a support system-- be in Nar-Anon, Al-Anon, Celebrate Recovery or the blogs on my side bar. The support that you need is from parents who have gone through this. Friends and family, who are not living this nightmare, cannot offer the kind of support that you need. They cannot understand the three C's-- You didn't cause it. You can't control it. You cannot cure it. They mean well, but they will most likely make you doubt your ability as a parent. Unless you did drugs with your kids, you can't be blamed.

I pray that 2012 will be a fresh beginning for each of you. I don't make New Year's Resolutions. Instead, I look at the New Year as a time to start over-- to make new memories.

Thank you for your support and friendship.

Hope for the Holidays-- and Every Day, One Day At A Time

2011-12-17T10:38:00.000-08:00

Our family celebrates the Christmas holiday on Christmas Eve. It's only one week away, and I can't seem to get into the Spirit of the holiday. Being a Christian, I'm celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ-- God's gift to the World.     It's also a time of the year for those who are of other faiths, be it Hannukah, Kwaanza. Then there is the Secular Christmas of Christmas being a holiday of shopping, baking, parties and family gatherings, Santa and Frosty the Snowman.

No matter what this time of year is to you, it can be a very difficult time of year, too. For me, it's the time of year when I miss my mother. My Mutti would make a big deal out of Christmas. I still carry those traditions of German cooking and music, to this day. It is the time of year when I realize how much our family has whittled down to just my two brothers, one niece and my son. I have a scattering of cousins, but we just don't seem to keep in touch anymore. Most of my older relatives are now gone, from this Earth.

So, yes, sometimes I feel a sense of melancholy at this time of year. I also find that I don't like what Christmas has become. Like I said, I'm a Christian, and I'm sad to see that the "Christ" in Christmas has become politically incorrect. I cringe when I hear "Happy Holidays". I still smile, when sometime says that. But I always say, "Merry Christmas".

No, I don't mean to start a politics vs. religious rant. It's not what my blog is about. This blog is about my story. It's about my nearly four-year experience as the mother of a drug addict.

I haven't read my blog, in it's entirety in a very long while. It's a little strange, knowing that my son is reading it now. B has been reading the comments that are left, and he's been urging me to respond to them. So, now my son's my writing agent? Yes, son. I will.

Sometimes it's hard to respond, because the comments are written anonymously. Sometimes, people email me, and ask that I respect their privacy. I always do that.

I digress. My inspiration to write, today, is that this morning I just can't muster the child-like anticipation that I once had, as I counted the days until Christmas. My son, being in the restaurant business, will not be with our small family gathering on Christmas Eve. He's also working, all day, on Christmas Eve. Sigh.

However, I can count a very special blessing in all of this. My son is home. He's got a job, and it's one that he really likes. Right now, my #1 thing I am grateful for-- my son is free from methadone. Amen.

Right now, there are parents who have no idea where their addict son or daughter is. The family has been torn apart, by addiction. Or, there are families whose addicts are living in their home, but it has become a place that isn't a sanctuary. Parents have to lock up their valuables, lest their addict steals it. Christmas gifts can't be placed, under the tree, for fear those will be pawned somewhere.

So, when that melancholy hits me, I have to pause and thank God for where my son is today. I can hand him my credit card, to run an errand for me. I don't have to worry that he'll abuse that kind of trust. I don't have to hide my wallet. My camera and laptops are safe.

Most importantly, I have my son back. There was a time, when I used to toss and turn at night. Just writing these words, makes the tears well up again. I can recall a time, while my son wasn't living with us, that I dreaded phone calls late at night. I can recall the terror in my heart, picking up the phone, and praying it wouldn't be the County Jail or Coroner.

When B told me he read my blog, he said that he had forgotten some of the things he put me through-- until he spent a few hours reading my posts. I don't want to forget those times. Neither does my son. He said, to me, that reading my blog is a good reminder why he never wants to back to those dark times.

Today, what I want to say to anyone who is reading this post-- if your loved one is not with you at this time, please know that I am truly sorry. I think the greatest pain that any parent can feel, is the loss of their child. Death is the ultimate pain, because it's so final. Yet, knowing that your addict child is out there-- somewhere-- and you cannot contact them, or they won't contact you... it is a very deep pain. I have been praying for you, especially this week.

Support is our best friend, at a time like this. Support can be found at Al-Anon or Nar-Anon. It can be found in your own home, via the internet. B has recently discovered that. When B read my blog, he started clicking on my blogroll-- which led him to "Suboxone Talk". He's been participating in his own addict forums, and he's very excited about it He's been posting and finding support from addicts who have years of experience with suboxone therapy. I'm watching B, as he's making informed decisions on how to correctly take his medications. I'm seeing a more positive son, who is gaining weight again and wanting to take better care of his health. B is understand, more clearly, how my own blog has helped me get through some really dark times.

I cannot tell you how many times I've had non-believers attack my Christian faith. Know what? I don't take offense anymore. My faith is deeply rooted, because I have taken time to build a relationship with Jesus Christ. I love to read and hear messages about the Word of God. I'm not disillusioned about my son's addiction, and I don't blame God for things that have gone wrong in my life. If anything, I found strength and courage by prayer and faith.

My story is not over. If anything, it's just taken a new chapter. B wants me to keep on blogging.   He wants me to share my story, to help those of you who feel discouraged.

I will interview my son. But, today, I have Christmas chores to do. I'm baking my gifts. I just can't understand why Christmas has become a financial spending spree. Instead, I'm giving money to help those in need. I don't care about receiving gifts, either. Just being with my family is truly what matters to me.

On Christmas Eve, I'm headed to church. I will sing Christian Christmas Carols and be thankful that I'm still alive and well. I will think of my deceased mother and father. Most importantly, I will give thanks to God that I am forgiven for my sinful ways.

May each of you find peace and joy in your hearts. May the Christmas Season be a time of hope for you.   With my son, I celebrate his sobriety, one day at a time. May each day become one of encouragement for you. One Day At A Time.

Well, the Cat's out of the Bag-- My son has read my blog

2011-12-11T19:53:00.000-08:00

Dear Readers & Friends:

The moment has finally come. In April 2008, I started this blog out of desperation and fear. I had just dropped my son off at a Rehab Center, in Northern California. I was spinning around, feeling a mixture of fear, confusion, anger, hurt -- and I could not believe that my son was a heroin addict.

I think the catalyst to start my blog, was when I read the book "My Beautiful Boy". It's a poignant story, and yet it gave me hope. My own thought was that I wanted to journal my thoughts, and one day-- when my son was ready (and I prayed when he was sober), that he would be able to read it. I wanted my son to try and understand a mom's point of view.

Well, that day has finally come.   When B asked me if he could read my blog, over a week ago, I have to admit it made me a little nervous and a bit self-conscious. In a way, it felt as though I would be letting him read my personal diary. But, I did tell my son that I had a blog and that, when he was ready, he could read it. Being the kind of person who tries to keep true to her word, I told him "yes".

I explained to my son that I hoped he would understand that some of my posts were very raw-- these were feelings that I wrote when I was feeling anger or fear.

I'm feeling tremendous relief, to be honest. First, that my son hasn't been to the methadone clinic in five weeks. B has found, what he says, is a LOT of very useful information from Dr. Junig's blog, Suboxone Talk Zone. B was reading his blog, and emailed Dr. Junig. B was both relieved and surprised that Dr. Junig took the time to answer him. B says that he has a much better understanding about suboxone. He also says that, until he read his blog, he realized he was taking suboxone incorrectly. In fact, he's talking 75% less of a daily dose, and I can hear a different tone in my son's way of talking. I think that tone is "hope".

As his mom, I can only pray with both gratitude and supplication that the God I believe in will continue to pour his Grace upon B.   Considering the stories I've read on other blogs, I know that I am very fortunate that my son is where he is today-- he is working, he is a good roommate, and he is a good person. Sure, he's done some things that weren't honest-- at the time he was using. But, that's in the past. I have forgiven him, and I believe that this has helped me to not become bitter and angry towards him.

B told me that he read my blog, last night-- for several hours. He was very nice about it, which is a relief. In fact, my son said he went blog hopping from my blog roll. He found Ron's blog "An Addict in Our Son's Bedroom", and liked it. While I've never met Ron, I feel as though we are friends. B also went to his son, Alex's, blog. B's comment was that he could tell that Alex was in a really dark place. He also said he completely understood where Alex was coming from.

B says he most enjoyed reading the comments. He said that he really wanted to help that young girl who wrote to me and asked if she was an addict. I get that, and I can only hope that she has gotten the help that she needs.

B also says that reading back to my accounting of events that happened-- from my point of view-- makes him realize that he doesn't want to go back to that lifestyle (when he was using).

My son and I both know that his addiction will be with him for the rest of his life. He is very honest and tells me that there are days when he feels as though he wants to use-- but he doesn't. Lately, he's been going to Dr. Junig's blog and is beginning to find that the internet is full of places where he can read and find support.

Yes, my son-- my fellow bloggers, and commentators, helped me through some really hard times. Even Fractal Mom didn't mince words with me. While, at times, it stung-- I appreciate her candor. I did have issues discerning the difference between enabling and helping and co-dependence. When I do go way back to ready my posts, I can see how my journey has become less arduous and that I've come a long way. So has my son. I do believe that he has an excellent chance of turning his life around. I've seen him let go of the friends who needed to be out of his life.

My faith in God got me through the pain, and continues to be a very important to me.

I am always humbled and appreciative of the anonymous emails/comments I get, from people who tell me how much my blog has helped them.   You are welcome. It is why I continue to post, whenever I can. I have no intention of abandoning this blog.

I hope that my son will take his own experience and use it to help those who are just starting, where he was five years ago. I asked B if he would let me interview him. Without hesitation, he said yes.

The next post, I hope, will be my son's own words to all of you. As parents and loved ones of addicts, it is hard to understand the addict's side of the story. Especially, if we aren't addicts ourselves-- which I am not. I never grew up with alcoholic parents. Other than smoking weed, in high school, I wasn't into drugs.

If there is anything that you would like to ask my son-- please leave a comment. My son is now reading my blog. I'll get used to it. I won't hold back, myself. I will write from the heart, as I always have.

A Mom's Sad Heart - Yeah, that's me

2011-11-26T14:34:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, when life seems like sunshine and rainbows, that dark storm comes out of nowhere. I'm having a hard day. Of course, it's my son.   No, B isn't using heroin. But, he's sick. Very sick. He has that methadone poison that is still in his body. He is going through ups and downs. It's been 22 days since he left the methadone clinic. B was using 80 mgs. of liquid methadone a day. He tried to taper off many times, but would get really, really sick. So, the clinic would yo-yo his dose. For two years, he used methadone-- and I so wished he wouldn't have to go that route. When B left the clinic, he was down to 50mg. That's not the ideal way to do it but the $450.00 a month was no longer affordable for me, his father nor him. They wanted $10.00 a day to do a taper... forgive me, but they're just legal pushers, in my opinion.

For one week, his doctor put him on dilaudid, because he could not start on suboxone right away. Why? Because the doctor said he'd go into full-blown withdrawals if he had methadone in his system.

Nice, huh?

B took two weeks of work to try and detox. Only our insurance screwed us around, big time. They wouldn't pay for the suboxone ($300.00). It took a lot of phone calls (which my son did himself) and waiting for the appeals process, but that took 11 days to finally go through. In the meantime, we paid $10.00 per daily dose, waiting for the red tape to be cleared.   It was a rough ride, which B supplemented with marijuana (which is legal in California, with a "license").

My son was in good spirits, feeling happy to be free of the methadone clinic. I was feeling thankful (still am) that he was getting that poison out of his body. Ironically, his insurance has approved him for the vivitrol shot. B found where the co-pay (up to $500.00) will be covered. Prices, I hear, are about $800-$1000.00 per shot, per month.   B won't get the shot, just yet. Right now, he's using subutex which he says helps a little bit. But, he still has traces of methadone in his body (I've been reading how it builds up in bones), and so withdrawals simply aren't out of the question.

So, why am I so sad? I'm that way, because my baby boy is sick. I want to cry. This is my precious boy, who was born with a good and healthy body. It breaks my heart to know that his body is ravaged from five years of drug use.   Our relationship has been repaired. But his body hasn't.

I try not to "fear" what I cannot control, predict nor fix.

But, today, I'm feeling deeply concerned for my son. I am concerned that he is relying on weed to help him get through this phase. I hate it. Sure, I smoked weed in high school, so I would be a hypocrite to say that he can't. In some ways, I get that marijuana has it's health benefits for certain medical conditions. As I've said before, if my son smoked only weed-- it would be far better than going backwards with heroin. Heroin is a disgusting drug. So is methamphetamine. So is crack. Let's face it. Drug addiction and alcohol addiction devastates everything it touches-- isn't that why you're reading my blog?

I've done a brave job of keeping it real with my son's addiction, and struggle to stay sober. But, today, I'm feeling like I'm teetering on fear. I'm feeding off my own son's fear--

I think my son fears withdrawals more than anything.   From my own perspective, I feel as though he goes into a panic when the signs of withdrawals hit-- and he has to race out and buy weed.

But, here's the problem. My. Son. Cannot. Afford. To. Buy. Drugs. Legal. Or. Illegal.

Here's my struggle. I. Don't. Want. To. Buy. My. Son. Drugs. To. Keep. Him. From. Fear. Of. Withdrawal.

This is where my heart is so torn. How easy would it be for me to buy his weed? I'm not rich, but I could sacrifice my own needs to help my son feel better.

But, what good would that do?   My son is selling off his video games, to buy weed. How do I know he's not using heroin? I know. I just know. I truly believe that my son doesn't want to use heroin. Ever. Again.

But, he's an addict.   He is struggling to get off the methadone that helped him to get off heroin that helped him to get off oxycontin, that started with cocaine, that goes back to smoking weed in Middle School that goes back to....

I know that it wouldn't be right for me to buy his weed. So, I won't. But a mother's instinct is to protect her child.

My son is stuck in a viscous cycle.   I don't want to even entertain the thought of him relapsing. I only wish he would work harder at finding a sponsor-- someone he can talk to. B's argument is that meetings won't help with the physical withdrawals he's going through. He says he doesn't want to use. But, he's sick and cannot function at his job in that condition.

I talked to my husband about how I'm feeling. He did exactly what I had hoped he would do. He listened. B isn't his own flesh and blood, so he can be pragmatic with his advice. I'm B's mom. He's my one and only child. He is not a thief. He is never rude to me. In fact, he's downright respectful and helpful.

This is so hard, because it's easy for me to enable.

Having a child who is a drug addict is something I don't wish on anyone. How I pray that my son will be set free of the bonds of addiction. I pray he will grow to me a man who is clean and sober, and who will use his charisma and beautiful personality to help others.

But, right now, my son needs help. I need to hang on, and be strong in my faith.

The Long Road to Recovery & Methadone Recovery & Rehab Centers (Give me a Break)

2011-11-11T08:34:00.000-08:00

I've been writing a post for this blog, in my head, for many weeks. I apologize, in advance, for the length of this one. I have a lot stored up, that I want to share. Unfortunately, my life has become a very busy routine. I have a 5:00am wakeup and a 6:15am commute to work. By the time I get home, cook dinner and try to unwind-- well, I'm lucky enough to read emails. The good news is that I got my job back. I've been very MIA, here, so to refresh anyone's memory (or introduce my job life to a new reader), I work at a high school.   I was transferred to another school, in the interim. I liked working at the adult school, but my heart is with high school kids. There is something about the daily drama, in the life of high school kids, that makes my job challenging, interesting and entertaining. (I work as an Administrative Assistant to high school counselors.)

In many ways, my son's drug addiction has given me a heightened sense of awareness towards the kids I see at work on a daily basis. I deal with parents whose kids are failing classes, or are facing disciplinary action for cutting classes. My heart goes out to the parents, because I've been there. I know that feeling of helplessness-- of thinking my kid is just being a difficult teenager. Little did I know that my son was using hard core drugs. But, I digress. My son....

On November 1st (also, his 23rd birthday), my son stopped going to the methadone clinic. Amen. Before I write any further, I've received a few private emails from methadone users who are not happy with me. Somehow, they feel I am condemning methadone therapy. For the record, I am not. Methadone is something that should be used on a case-by-case basis. I do believe that, for many addicts, that methadone is the only course of action they can take. On occasion, I've driven my son to the methadone clinic and have sat, parked, outside. There are no words to express the sorrow I felt, as I surreptitiously watched methadone patients walking in and out of that clinic door. What stood out to me, is how old and haggard many of the patients looked like.   Some of the women looked, to me, to be in their 50's. I was off by as much as 15 years. Their skin and expressions looked like their body had been ravaged by addiction. Rather than being repelled by it, I was deeply sad to see it. Then, I'd see a young woman walk out, who looked like she could work as a bank teller. Drug addiction has no economic, racial nor gender bias.

On the other hand, as with my son, I feel as though methadone simply kept my son from buying heroin off the street. Methadone simply bought time, to keep my son from going through withdrawals. Methadone made it possible for my son to look "normal" again. It returned that sparkle in his eyes, and he could eat again. Most importantly, it helped him to function at his job-- which he loves, and has kept for 1 1/2 years. When my son was using, he got fired from three jobs. So, yes, methadone had it's benefits. However, my son could not accurately claim that he is sober.

However, the downsides of methadone are serious. Methadone, in my opinion, is poison to the body. It builds up, in the bones. For one, there are only two methadone clinics within a 40 mile radius of where we live. Our home is 3 miles from the closest one. My son could not move anywhere closer to his job (25 miles away), lest he have a 30 minute commute for his daily methadone dose. Should he oversleep, which he did many times, he'd miss his dose. Then, he'd panic and he'd start to feel very sick by the end of the day. He had liquid handcuffs to his methadone clinic. What kind of life is that?   The cost of methadone is expensive. Unless you qualify for Medi-Cal (state funded for low-income families) insurance, it's $450.00 a month. Private insurance doesn't pay for methadone. That's a lot of money-- my son could rent a room in a nice home for that.

B's father has been funding his methadone for the last year , because my husband and I could not and would no longer underwrite that expense-- which we did for the first year. B's father has experienced a financial crisis, and the funding came to an end. My son knew that would happen, in early October. B had a panicked look on his face, but he also said that he wanted to be set free of methadone. Halleluia.

It is now Day #11 that my son has not taken methadone. I'm proud of my son, for taking my advice, and telling his boss the truth.   I knew that his boss would be receptive, because I know her own son-- who has his own history of addiction. Sure enough, his boss told him to take a week off work to detox. But, wait! Why isn't my son in rehab?

TO THOSE OF YOU REHAB CENTERS WHO HAVE LEFT COMMENTS AS A SELF PROMOTION ON MY BLOG:

I had to laugh, when Madyson left a comment "go suck an egg". Dear Rehab Centers. You do offer a valuable service. However, do you think that most of us can afford you? Seriously? My son's first rehab experience cost $72,000 for 45 days. Yes, we had insurance, but it was a big battle to get the insurance to okay more than 10 days of rehab. We could not afford the Sober Living Environment for more than two months afterwards. Insurance doesn't pay for that. So, if you want to self-promote on my blog, please don't. I'll throw eggs at you, myself. We cannot afford rehab. Period. However, if you want to offer a complimentary rehab and would like for me to blog about it, please contact me.

My son is doing his own detox, at home, under the supervision of a doctor who specializes in addiction.   In a perfect world, I wish he could have gone into rehab. However, my son did not want to lose his job and so he opted for taking medication from the doctor. I forget the name of the drug, but it's an opiate of some sort. The doctor says it will help my son get through the methadone withdrawals. Once the methadone is out of his body, he will be put on subutex.

B has been going through withdrawals, for certain. He gets the chills, and has been vomiting. He buys medical marijuana (legal in California). Yes, weed is a gateway drug. However, I think he's walked through that gate long ago. I have mixed feelings about it, but my son is now 23 years old. He buys "cookies" and he eats them to help him get through withdrawals. He tells me that each "cookie" is stretched out over 2-3 days. He doesn't want to smoke weed, because he doesn't like the high. He says that marijuana helps with the nausea and helps him to sleep. He's been sleeping a lot, at home, and when he's not sleeping then he is playing online video games. I'd rather he do that, than go out to buy heroin.

By the way, B's heroin dealer finally got arrested and is in jail. Amen. Sadly, her young children are now in foster care and her husband will be deported to Mexico, once he serves his sentence.

Last night, I asked my son why he thinks he's going to "make it" this time. He answer was, that he was more than ready to get off methadone. He says that being set free from having to get a daily dose is a huge load lifted off his shoulders. Most importantly, he says that his new friends don't use. All those dark friends of his are out of his life. Yes! It's true.

For the last year, my son has been a model roommate. He is courteous and respectful. He goes to work early, and never misses a day. He takes on double shifts, when he can. He pays us rent, keeps his car insurance as paid and he is a joy to be around.

I'm keeping it real. Getting off methadone is a huge step, but it's not the end of the road to recovery. Once he's off the methadone, he will need to find ways to resist the cravings that are going to come. I've read plenty of articles, on the web, that says kicking methadone is harder than kicking heroin. My son knows that, too.

But, for today, my thoughts are with my son. He is at the doctor, right now, finding out what the next step is. I am paying his medical bills for this doctor. It is my way of supporting him. Thanks to President Obama, my son has insurance again, but his deductible is quite high.

Above all, through all I've gone through with my son, our relationship has been healed and restored. I know that my son both loves me and appreciates how I have never given up on him. His relationship with his stepfather is good. He has grown to like "C", and for that I am thankful. My husband has been a pillar of support to me. Our marriage has survived this, and I am so thankful for that. "C" expresses, to me, what he's thinking and I have learned to listen without being defensive towards my son.

For me, I have learned how co dependence and addiction go hand-in-hand. I'm much better at learning when to say "no". My son has stopped trying to manipulate me. He accepts "no". He asks how he can earn financial help with things like gas money for work. He has apologized for what he's put us through, and I have forgiven him.

I think my son has a good chance of moving forward in his life and towards true sobriety. He knows he could slip. I do believe that my son wants sobriety, more than anything else.

I am a God-loving, prayerful mom. I give thanks to my Lord and Savior, each and every day for His grace and mercy on my son. Miracles happen on a regular basis, that have helped my son to be where he is today.

I know I am luckier than some other family stories. There are sad stories out there. I read them, when I visit other blogs. I pray for them.

Never lose hope. Never. The power of faith and love is getting me through this.

Trading One Addiction for Another...here we go again

2011-09-21T18:38:00.000-07:00

Hello. I'm back. I might be back more often.

My son is addicted to methadone. Somehow, I had a feeling this would happen. I know, I know... when my son started on this synthetic opiate, I heard all sides of this spectrum. I heard from addicts who said that methadone is the only way they've been able to function in some sort of "normal".

I had high hopes that methadone would be a bridge to help my son from using heroin, to finding sobriety.

It didn't happen. My son isn't using heroin. This is a good thing. But, he has to have methadone. He's been tapering down, but now he's about 2/3 down from his dose...and he's hurting. He wakes up withdrawing. He's losing weight again.

My son has liquid handcuffs. Every single morning, he has to drive to the clinic for his dose. The cost is $350.00 per month. My son doesn't make enough money to afford that, so his father pays it. His dad really can't afford it. We stopped paying for it about 9 months ago.

So, my son is at the point where he realizes he wants to go back into rehab. I need to spend some time doing research, just so I know how to support my son.

From what my son says, methadone is very dangerous to come off. In fact, I've been told it can kill you if it's not done right. B says he's afraid, yet he wants to be off it. I've had someone, who went through this, recommend suboxone. We've already been through that. It didn't work for my son.

What my son really needs is at least 30-days of rehab. He needs to immerse himself into the program. B is finally at that point where he is saying that he wants to be truly clean.

I am feeling hopeful, because B and I are very close, now. We have very deep talks. He doesn't withhold from me. I've learned to listen a lot more. I try not to give him advice, unless he asks for it. Most importantly, I'm trying to understand the addict's point of view. Wow, is that ever complicated!

I feel very thankful that, at my job, I have met a few young adults who have walked in my son's moccasins. Right now, I'm talking to a mature male who has been through a lot worse than my son-- and he's going to meet with B to explain what's ahead. This person has come off methadone, and he's told me it's really, really hard to do. I feel that he's a God Send, and may be able to mentor my son.

I wish I could write more-- like the things I've learned about living with an addict. But, I'm on a short break, at work. I'll write more, later. I've also begun to better understand their behavior, their manipulations. I'm not expert, by any stretch.

I just feel as though I'd like to be a part of a support group for drug addiction. In particular, I'd like to be someone that a parent can talk to. I know the pain. I know the fear. I also know that, at any time, my son could potentially go right back to that dark place he was once in.

For now, B continues to love his job (though he doesn't make a lot of money). He is liked at his job, and he always shows up on time. He pays us rent. He's respectful to me, and his step dad. He's using medical marijuana. I'm not crazy about it, but at this point I'd rather he's doing that than buying heroin on the street.

If anyone wishes to share their opinion, or even suggestions, about methadone-- please do.

So, I continue to pray for my son. What B needs to find out is if his insurance will cover the rehab. This place is EXCELLENT, and he wants to go back there. B also needs to find out if they rehab center will waive the deductible. My son barely makes enough money to pay rent (and believe me, we charge him a bargain price), his gas money, and car insurance. He's always broke.

Bottom line-- I am disappointed that the methadone didn't help my son find sobriety. The clinic said 3-6 months... well over a year later, they keeping increasing and decreasing his doses. It's a money maker.

'Nuff said. For now.

Summer Reflections

2011-07-10T10:12:00.000-07:00

Hello Old Friend (I am speaking of this Blog)--

I'm going to be very frank. In some ways, I've forgotten about this blog. This blog has reminds me of a childhood friendship. That young girl, who lived a couple of blocks away. We were inseparable. We told each other secrets. We did everything together. We got in trouble together. We thought we'd always be there for one another. Then, time changed everything. We grew up. One of us moved away. I will always remember her, and often reflect on how much we depended on one another. But, the memory of what she looked like, then, has faded. I have no idea what she looks like now.

I bumped into an old friend, last week. We hadn't spoken to one another in several years. When she asked me "how's B"?   Well, I hesitated. What do I say?

I started off with telling her that B is doing great. That's truthful. He's still working (as a busser) at the same restaurant, for the last 14 months.

Then, on impulse, I told her "B has been through a lot. He got addicted to oxycontin.

There it was. Her face sank. Then it came-- that "I'm so sorry".

She has a son who is 18. She began to share with me that she suspects her son smokes weed. I, unabashedly, told her that if you suspect so-- it's probably true.

My friend listened, as I carefully gave her my Reader's Digest Condensed version about B's struggle for sobriety. Somehow, I couldn't add the chapter in my son's life about his progression from oxycontin to smoking heroin. The word "heroin" sends shivers down anyone's spine. It's such an evil word. Almost as bad as murder, incest, rape. Other than methamphetamine, I can't think of a worse drug. It's like the end-of-the-road tale. It's such a hopeless drug, when you talk about it.

Then, I told my friend about my blog. I didn't give her the name of it. My son used to babysit her two boys, so I didn't want her to read the horror of what my son's addiction put him-- and the rest of his family-- through. But, as I spoke to her about my blog, I could feel tears coming. I could hear my voice begin to quaver.

Damn. The pain is still lurking. I suppose I will always have a fear of my son returning back to three-plus years ago. I realized that it's time for me to revisit my blog and write an update:

B is still living at home with us. He is twenty-two years old, now. In November, he will turn 23. I thank God, every single day, that in the early hours of the morning (as I'd heading out to work), I can see his sleeping body in his room. B works hard, as a busser. He's eeking by, because the restaurant business hasn't fully recovered from economic hard times. Tourism is down. Sometimes, he works double shifts. He works five to six days a week. His commute is 50 miles round trip, which is hard to afford while driving a V-8 engine that has 240,000 miles on it. He gives us money for rent, his car insurance and a loan to buy new tires. Living here (California) is very expensive. B makes barely enough money to make ends meet. I find it miraculous that my son has kept this job for 14 months-- and he loves it, and management likes him. For a drug addict, that is huge!

He's a very quiet roommate. He gets up every morning to get his dose of methadone. His dose has been tapering down for the last few months. He desperately wants to get off methadone. The cost is $350.00 per month. We aren't paying for it. As it is, we paid for my son's medical insurance (thank you, President Obama), his diabetes meds and a dental bill for an emergency root canal. Between his dad, and himself, the cost is handled. I call methadone his "liquid leash", as he cannot move closer to his job. There are only two methadone clinics on the entire Peninsula of where we live. For now, B has to stay living with us.   There are days when B feels the withdrawals, though. He says he gets really cold. His nose runs. He feels sick. Synthetic heroin, I tell you. It breaks my heart. On the weekends, he gets to "take home" his methadone. He has earned that by having clean UA's. Thank God!

My husband has been a Saint about this whole thing. He hasn't complained. Fortunately B isn't a problem or burden. He eats most of his meals at work. When he's home, he's got an X-Box headset on and is playing games online. B says that keeps his mind busy, so he doesn't think about using. He says that he actually doesn't want to use, anymore.

All of B's friends, that once used with, are out of his life. Some are in rehab. Some are in jail. Some have written B out of their lives. I pray for them, too. One particular "friend" caused so much trouble in my son's life. He's the former roommate who screwed my son out of rent, was involved with setting up a robbery at B's friend's home... someone who had a home invasion setup at their apartment... he got his girlfriend pregnant and has been in and out of rehab. "M"'s life is a mess. My son finally cut off ties with him. Amen. I feel for "M"s dysfunctional life, that unborn baby and for his parents.

The rent that my son pays-- 3/4's of it is in an interest bearing account. When B moves out, HALF of his rent will be paid from it. I don't want B to think that he'll have several months of rent prepaid. My logic is that he still needs to come up with half of his rent-- he needs "ownership" of what it costs to live. Once that savings is gone, then he's completely on his own. He's fine with that. My husband is fine with that.

So, there's an update.

I don't want to abandon this blog. It is my deepest hope that I won't need to start blogging again, because my son has relapsed. Instead, I hope to be that blog that parents/wives/loved ones will stumble across-- and find hope.

I don't know why my son has been spared from jail. I count my blessings that I don't have horror stories to share-- like some of the blogs that I subscribe to. I read their posts, and it breaks my heart. One blog, in particular, is a mom who is married to an alcoholic and her son is constantly relapsing. I read her posts, venting anger and outrage when her son is arrested...again...or steals from her...again. So much drama... so much anger...so much pain. I can't leave her a comment. I want to, but I don't. Why? Because I feel as though she's being driven by the drama. I feel as though her posts are a cry out for people to jump to her aid-- to offer her sympathy and comfort.   I couldn't leave a comment, because I noticed that if someone called her on her drama...or enabling, she'd go ballistic! Don't get me wrong. I'm a very compassionate woman. I used to do the same thing. I knew that if I wrote a blog post, that sounded desperate and heart-broken, that I would get a lot of comments. It helped me to get through the pain and agony. For me, it finally dawned on me that I was relying on the drama of my son's situation, to get readership.   I realized I had begun to become "oh, woe is me". But, my prayers for her is that she would see she is simply complaining about the same thing over and over again.   She is in serious denial, and she's enabling her son and her husband's alcoholism. So very sad...

I think the hardest thing about being the parent of a child who is a drug addict, is that we are being asked (by the rehab experts) to do the hardest thing we've ever been asked to do. It is a mother's instinct to protect our children. We women are wired to be the emotional comfort for our children. We want to shield them from pain. When our child becomes addicted to drugs/alcohol, we are told we must not enable it. We must recognize the signs of codependency. We are told we must say "no".

This is the most difficult thing I've ever been asked to do. Tough Love rips a mother's heart out. I've enabled my son. I've been codependent in many ways. I've come a long, long way. But, the experts are right.

What has been a very good thing, about my son's struggle to find sobriety has been our own relationship. My son's addiction has taught me to understand an addict's world. It has given me a heart for "At Risk" teenagers and young adults. My son and I have restored our relationship, and I feel it is a very strong bond.

Of course, I wish B would be more motivated, and would start taking some college classes. I'd love to see him purse a trade or career, that is better than bussing tables. I've encouraged him to learn about wine, so he can work his way up to being a waiter (my son doesn't have an alcohol addiction...he rarely drinks). For now, he simply eeks by on his meager earnings and plays video games. Does that disappoint me? Sure, it does. At times.

When I start to feel that way, though, I remind myself-- my son is struggling to be free of his addiction to heroin. His is fighting a battle, where the odds are not in his favor.   His true sobriety has been less than a year-- as he has admitted to "chipping" even though he was on methadone.   So, while some parents can boast that their child has graduated from college, or has high paying job at some corporation... well, I can rejoice in the fact that my son has a job, and isn't buying heroin.

It's not quite what a parent wants to rejoice in, but you know what? I do. I love my son with all of my heart. He is a young man, who has so much ahead of him. I can only pray that he will slowly, but surely, be free of methadone and that no matter what he does in his future-- he will never go back to that dark life that he once lived in.

As for me-- I continue to live each day as a believer in Jesus Christ. I thank God for his grace and mercy on my son, and on me. For now, the storms of life have subsided. I feel a sense of calm, and trust the Lord that He has a plan for my son.

Amen,

Three Year Blogoversary and My Best Advice

2011-04-13T07:51:00.000-07:00

Work is very busy, and I have only a few minutes to write. Today, is my three year anniversary since I've started this blog. This blog of mine feels like I'm visiting an old neighborhood. The surroundings have changed a lot. Familiar neighbors have moved out and left (bloggers from my past) and new ones have moved in.

My old home looks familiar, and yet I don't come here often any more. The memories are of what feels a lifetime ago. So much has happened in three years.

I have moved into a new life-- one filled with a lot more wisdom. I have found more compassion and understanding about how the addict's mind works. I learned it from my son. We have reconnected as mother and son, and he is very open with me. I barely hang out with my old friends, addiction, codependency, and enabling. I have new friends, Hope, Prayer, Compassion, and Strength, who help me through tough times.

My marriage is good, and has weathered one of the biggest storms that has hit our life. Still, I know that another storm of life could hit me at any time. I have moved into a new life, built on the foundation of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He is my Rock. Without my faith in God, I seriously doubt I could have come through this painful time in my life as well as I have. I give ALL the Glory to God. I cannot doubt his existence, as He has protected my son is ways that are nothing short of miraculous.

Today, I received this anonymous comment:

Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "Three Years Later...":

I am sitting here crying because I don't know what to do. Every day just gets worse. Where do I go for help? My son just lies and steals and ruins every moment of peace in my home.

To those of you who do read my blog, I invite you to leave your own advice. Hopefully, "Anonymous" will check back.

My advice to you, Anonymous-- find out where the closest Al-Anon or Nar-Anon meeting is. Find out if you have a support group in your area for those who have addicts in their lives. Please try to learn as much about addiction as you can, and you need support. I highly recommend reading the "An Addict in my Son's Bedroom" blog-- Ron's link is on my blogroll on the right side bar. Ron is a brilliant writer, great parent and can help you with advice and direction. There are other bloggers I have found, listed. Please pay them a visit. You may write to me, at any time, too.

"My Beautiful Boy" is a book that I began to read about a week after my son went into rehab.

Learn. Pray. Hope. Please learn about codependency and addiction. You need to quickly learn that you cannot "save" your son. You cannot "cure" your son. The process will be hard and painful, Dear Parent, but you are fighting to put your son into a position where he has to realize he needs to seek help. You need to take care of yourself. You will cry a lot of tears, I am sorry to say. That is why you need support. If you have a spiritual foundation, and have a church group you can go to-- please do. "Celebrate Recovery" is a great program for people like you.

Like me... you can consider starting a blog. Just like I did, three years ago today. It helped me a LOT to know that there are people out there, walking the same road that I have. You need support.

You need to educate yourself, because an addict's addiction can destroy families. You have the power to stop that, but it will take work. There is hope. Please know that. Three years ago, today, I was a puddle of tears. I was a hurting mom. Today, I have wisdom, and I hope someday to pay it forward and help someone in my situation. Could it be you?

May you feel the power and presence of God's love right now,

Three Years Later...

2011-03-31T19:28:00.000-07:00

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?

2011-02-26T09:20:00.000-08:00

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

2011-01-20T11:13:00.000-08:00

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

2011-01-05T08:09:00.000-08:00

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...

2010-10-18T16:28:00.000-07:00

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,

Digging Deeper

2010-08-15T19:59:00.000-07:00

Wow! It's been almost a month since I last posted. Life has truly gotten in the way of this blog. That, and a few other things.

Today, our pastor gave an excellent message based on 2 Corinthians: 12. This is where the Apostle, Paul writes:

⁷To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. ⁸Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. ⁹But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. ¹⁰That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

For those of you who don't read the bible-- perhaps even don't believe in it-- you might not understand the power in the words above. For me, this scriptures speaks as to why I am able to cope with the difficult life that I've had. Before I became a Christian-- 14 years ago-- I was a bitter, and angry woman. My ongoing transformation as a follower of Jesus, has proven over and over again that God gets me through the hard times.

It is largely for this reason, that I haven't been blogging as often as I once did. My son isn't out of the woods, by any means. I am beginning to learn my own healing that comes with detaching from trying to micromanage my son's addiction. For my own sanity, I assume he's chipping. I don't see my son working any kind of program that will help him get through temptations.

On the other hand, he's about to have his one year anniversary at the golf course. It's a job he doesn't like, because of the terrible management. But he's still there. He's also working his second job at a restaurant. He likes it. He makes tips-- enough to pay for gas, cigarettes, some fast food. If he uses it for drugs, it's not my problem.

What I am thankful for is that B and I have a very close relationship. His living with us is my opportunity to learn how to listen to him. It is hard for me to keep my mouth shut at his procrastination. He frustrates me, at times. I have to remind myself that my wisdom came from years of experience. I have to remember that it is not my job to put my own expectations on him.

B's time of living here is coming close to an end. My husband agreed to six months, max. I see his point.
I have a compromise that I hope will spark a fire under my son to try and find a better job. I have to pray about it, mull it over more and then approach my husband about it. If it is agreed on, and my son doesn't blow it, he should he enough of a nest egg to try living on his own again.

My husband is right. Sober or not... B is too comfortable living with us. He needs to have that urgency to be on his own. Whether he relapses again is something I truly understand is entirely up to him.

For me, I know I need to dig much deeper into my relationship with God. How I wish my son would, too. The other day he said he wanted to be sober long enough before he comes back to his relationship with Jesus.

That makes me sad. Jesus is a friend to sinners. I wish my son could understand that the Lord wants us as we are-- sinful, selfish, broken. He wants to clean us up and renew our lives.

The Lord did that for me 12 years ago. I'm no longer the woman I was then. I'm still a work in progress, but I know where my strength comes from when the hard times hit. I love my friends and family. Ultimately, God's strength outweighs all of them combined.

I will try and write more often. I've received lovely private emails and comments (some anonymously). I am so sorry I haven't written to all of you. I so want to. Right now, I'm working ridiculously long hours.

I will say that there are days when I still cry over my son. I never imagined that my precious boy would be a drug addict. Never. There are times when I wish it would all stop. No methadone. No drugs. I wish he was just a young man, thinking about college and not addicted to drugs and cigarettes.

I do know this. God's Grace on my son was been so good. I believe in miracles. My son is one of them.

No matter what, I love him with all of my heart. I also know he loves me.

If only my son could see that Satan is the destroyer and that he needs to find spiritual strength for the times when the temptation comes. I keep praying for me, for him, for you.

The viscious cycle of being the mom of a drug addict

2010-07-19T18:01:00.001-07:00

I feel as thought I'm having deja vu of almost two years ago. That's when I started this blog. For so long, this blog was my way of venting my frustrations, crying my tears, praising my son's days of true sobriety. Eventually, this blog became my family. At one time, I had high hopes that this blog would be a resource for people who were just beginning the journey that I have been on for two plus years.

Then, I fell away from coming here on a regular basis. I watched others, whom I had gotten to know, fall away from their own blogs. Some people went private on their blogs, while some went to Facebook.

Me. I'd pop in at least twice a month.

This weekend has been a big wake up call for me. I wonder. Did I fall away, because I had tried to fool myself that my son was doing great?

I've been reading other blogs. I'm guilty for not always leaving a comment. Sometimes, when I read a post that says that they can tell if their addict is using... I suck my breath in.

That's where I am, today.

My son can fake his sobriety, better than I ever imagined. Today, I was asked why I don't drug test him. I'm going to share my feelings, in the raw. Are you ready?

My son is 21 years old, now. He'll be 22 in November. He's a clean cut, charming and very polite young man. My son does not fit the profile of a "stero type" drug addict.

For those of you who are new to my story-- my son was 100% clean and sober when he left his treatment center. He was in for 30 days. He went to an SLE. He got a job. He was doing great. The problem happened when he met someone in an SLE, and they decided they could work their own program. In essence, they thought they could be their own SLE. Big mistake, but what could I do.

My son relapsed after six months. He quit going to meetings. He was hanging around with addicts. Ya think?

From there, he started chipping.

I have helped my son to start on suboxone. He chipped with it.
I have put my son into treatment center #2. He met drug addicts and began to sell drugs to pay for his own. This proves that you can put an addict into a treatment center, but you can't guarantee they won't use. For the record, I don't blame treatment centers.

I blame my son.

My son has come home twice. He lied both times. I drug tested him more times than you know. We've kept the door open. We've made him strip down to his tighty whities. I'll be dipped, if my son hadn't figured out how to hide urine in a place I would have never looked.
He fooled me.

My son is taking 50mg of methadone. He goes into a clinic, every morning. It costs $450.00 a month. My son pays a portion, his father pays a portion, and I pick up the rest. Why?

Well, let's see-- would I rather have my son taking legal methadone so that he doesn't buy opiates on the street?

What do you think?

What are the other options?

Oh, yes. NA meetings. Guess what? It doesn't work for everybody. The NA meetings where we live (very rural area), he knows most of the people. These are people he used with. He's also been asked if he can help NA people buy drugs.

NA is good, don't get me wrong. But, it's not perfect, either.

Sober Living Environment?
I can't afford $800.00 a month, plus living expenses. If anyone wants to sponsor it, I'll take it.

My son is uninsured. Because he's a diabetic, and isn't going to college, we can't get insurance for him. We've tried and tried. Those who are willing to insure my son want $800.00 a month with an astronomical deductible.

Saturday night, my son was admitted to the hospital. He is uninsured. By a miracle only, this most excellent hospital admitted him. My son told them he could not stay, because he had no money. They will give him financial assistance for the stay.

Amen.

My son was so sick, because he is not managing his Type I diabetes. He could have died. It was that bad. By God's Grace, my son did not have cardiac arrest, nor did he go into a coma. I have limited knowledge about his health, because I did not see his doctor. Besides my son is an adult, so I have no legal access to his medical records.

I went to get his car to bring to the hospital. I found two foils.

Crap.

He says they're old.

Uh-huh.

There is not concret, fool-proof answer to this dilemma. I'm going to be vulnerable and share where I am at this very moment.

My son has not given me a reason that would make me strong enough to throw him out of the house. It would be easier for me if he was a jerk...if he'd been in and out of jail... if I found things missing... if money disappeared from my purse. My son has been nothing but courteous in the house. He works two jobs and pays us rent. He's paying for his car insurance and a portion of his methadone.

So, here I sit. I have much to contemplate.

I do know this. My son needs professsional help. He is trying to work his own program. It's not working. I believe my son is finding a way to chip in between taking methadone.

I believe my son will be on methadone for the rest of his life-- unless he, himself, alone wants sobriety enough to find the tools he can use to say "no" to use.

My son, I believe, is suffering from depression. I believe he has a spiritual void in his life. There is a deep-rooted pain in his life, and he relies on drugs to fix it.

That is not working.

I feel sorrow for my son. I am afraid that my son will die from his diabetes, unless he begins to take care of it.

When people say that they can't change, I think that's BS. People can change. It takes work.

I do not know how it is to be addicted to opiates. I know that my son has a 97% chance of fail. These are not good odds.

I can only be a prayer warrior for my son. I can't yell at my son.

I had a conversation with my son, when he returned home from the hospital.

When I am ready, I will share it.

My son has never read my blog. The reason I haven't asked him to, is that he is not ready.

My son is still in denial about his recovery. He says he's coming a long way. OK, I'll give him that. He's not strung out. But, I think he's chipping. If you use "once" you're not sober.

Period.

That's all I can share, tonight.

One last thing-- I don't write for advice. I write to share my honest feelings. I hope that my story will touch others. I know I am not alone.

God is with me.

That's plenty for me.

My name is Debby. My son is a drug addict. I love him so much. I want my son to live and to be happy.

In Jesus Name,

A visit to the Emergency Room - Another Guardian Angel Moment

2010-07-17T23:18:00.000-07:00

Happy Summer Everyone,

I've been keeping a very low profile, mainly because I have an entirely new job position in my school district. I'm working a split shift-- that means I'm up at 6:30am, out the door at 8:15 am. Most nights, I don't return home until 9:45am, because I live 52 miles round-trip from work. So, I have four hours to "kill" during the day. I schedule doctor appointments, run errands, go to a matinee. I might take on a second job, but that's not decided yet. I've been really praying for my son that God would give my son the hope and desire to want to take better care of himself. He doesn't manage his diabetes very well. He still smokes (I hate smoking anyway). He's working two jobs, and he's paying his rent, car insurance and a portion of his methadone. We are subsidizing the expensive.

My son called me at 6:30pm. He was in the Emergency Room. Apparently, he was feeling very ill. His heart was beating out of his chest and he was having trouble breathing. Thankfully, his boss insisted he go to the fire department (next door). The paramedics wanted to rush him, by ambulance. My son got a ride, instead, from a coworker. The timing was lousy when he called, only because I had made a big dinner and had a guest. We had each enjoyed two cocktails. There was no way we could drive, for fear of a DUI. No, we weren't intoxicated in anyway, but I NEVER drink and drive. We had to wait for a couple hours, but my son was speaking coherently.

When we got to the hospital, my son was admitted. His blood sugars were off the charts and he was in ketoacidosis. He was a very lucky young man, that he didn't go into cardiac arrest. I worried that my son doesn't have insurance. Fortunately, there is financial aid. This is a beautiful and award winning hospital.
I can only hope and pray that this is God's answer to prayer... that my son will tap into the system that will provide his needed insulin. He is almost out of what we stockpiled. I also pray that my son will receive how important it is to manage his diabetes. He is lazy about testing, taking his insulin and eating healthier. He will also get methadone from the hospital, so he won't miss his dose.

God has my son's back. Thank you, Father!

Hopefully, B will be discharged in the morning. How I pray he will make the choice to honor his body, and take care of it.

How is my son? I bite my tongue, as much as I can. I can only hope and pray he will stop saying "you know how I roll..." and instead decided to step up and make changes. I think he suffers from depression.

There is nothing I can say or do that will make my son change. It is all for him to do. As a mom, it's hard to hold back with my bits of wisdom. Sometimes, I slip and criticize how much he procrastinates.

I have to remember...he's an immature 21. He's a drug addict. He's a diabetic.

Is he clean? My husband doesn't think so. As a mom, I can only hope so.

Only my son and his dad knows for sure.

Thank you Father, for your Grace and Mercy on my son. I pray that my son will know that you have spared him time and time again, because you love him and you have a plan for him.

Two of my most disliked labels - "Enabling" and "Codependency"

2010-07-05T14:49:00.000-07:00

For the last three days, I've been meaning to sit down and blog about my son. Actually, I wanted to blog about a Dr. Phil Episode that I happened to catch, while on vacation. Honestly, I rarely watch his show. This one was about a 19 year old boy and his parents. The son is hooked on oxycontin. I quickly grabbed the remote and recorded the show. When B came home, from work, we sat and watched the show together.

I don't have much time to write, as I'm expecting a dinner guest at any moment. Please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. I'm typing as fast as I can, because I just got a call from my son. There is more drama. When that happens, I need to blog. On with it--

I could relate to the parents so much. Mom has done the same things I've done. When B would tell me he was in trouble because he owed money for drugs... what did I do? I went into panic mode. I could not bear the thought of my son being shot, stabbed or beaten by a drug dealer.

According to the Book of Rules for Parents of Addicts, I did exactly what I should not do. I paid the money.
Essentially, I was labeled as an enabler.

When my son misses his methadone dose, and he's sick and puking, I have been known to pay for methadone from the street. Why? I can't bear to see my son suffer. I'm an enabler.

If my son has a doctor appointment, or needs to wake up on time...I've been known to remind him.

I've been labeled codependent on my son. He has drama, mom soothes him.

I've been labeled a "coddler".

The classic Dr. Phil question that he posed to the distraught parents was, 'How's the working?"

Of course it's not!

I'm speaking from a woman's point of view. I have such a fierce protection over my son, that doing what is deemed "right" is like asking me to walk in public stark naked. I consider myself to be an intelligent woman, with common sense. But, when I see my son in a dangerous situation, my resolve and common sense falls apart.

I give myself props that many times I've said "no". I've learned to set boundaries. Surprisingly, my son still loves me. He is testing me, I've come to realize.

Drug addicts are master manipulators. My son admits it. In order to get the drugs they so desperately need, they learn how to manipulate. I am thankful that my son doesn't steal. But, he's a clever one!

I wish I had more time, but I wanted to give food for thought. When I remind myself that my son needs to work his own program, and that there is nothing in the world I can do to make it happen... I believe I'm breaking my codependence on my son. I cannot cure him. I could pay for rehabs, shrinks, pills and beg him to go to meetings.

It's a waste of time. My son has to work his own program. I can only hope he's truly clean. I've drug tested him, and he has found ways to fool me. I think I can tell when he's high. I've been wrong.

I don't trust my son, completely. It insults my son, but that's the way it is.

As for Dr. Phil and that family-- I wish that young boy all the best. He's going on an all-expense paid trip to The Hacienda, in Texas. What a lucky boy he is, to be given this gift.

I pray for that family.

As B and I sat and watched that show, my son's eyes grew full of tears. So did mine. We exchanged looks that said so much. My husband didn't see it.

My eyes were saying, "I feel their pain and anguish".

His eyes were saying "I'm sorry, mom". "I hurt you."

I have learned to not say that my son is clean. I can only pray that he is. He's working. He's paying his rent. He's respectful to us.

He's still a drug addict. He has a long road ahead of him. I have no idea how long he's been clean. Only B and God can answer that one.

It is so easy for people to label us as Enablers and Codependent. Unless you've walked a mile in our moccasins, you cannot understand our desperation to save our kids.

I'm trying to let go and let God.

My son just called. There's been a terrible drama with his past. I'll blog when it's panned out.

I'm praying. I'm thankful he's alive.

Being the parent of a drug addict is one more label I wish I didn't have. It is what it is.

I have to go. Thank you for reading. Thank you for your support and comments.

Thank you for your kind words as I grieved over my horse. I'm better about that now. I can talk about her, and visualize her without crying.

On the loss of a beloved family member and an short update on my son

2010-06-24T08:54:00.000-07:00

Ever since I was a little girl, who read "Black Beauty", I longed to have a horse. I still have a plastic "Black Beauty" horse neatly tucked in a box, that I used to play with and pretend it was real. At the age of 24, I got my first horse. I finally got one, then another and then Savannah Sue came into my life, at her tender age of one. I loved all of my horses, but Savvy has a special place in my heart. When my son was born, I had fantasies of him riding her in horse shows. I used to clean her stall, with B tucked into his stroller in the breezeway... he'd watch in fascination but he never really bonded with wanting to be an equestrian. Because of my divorce from B's dad, I lost our horse property. Long story short, boarding her was a financial burden for me, but I loved this horse. Working two jobs, I managed to support myself, my son and provided my horse with the quality of life that this loyal horse deserved. She had earned her share of trophies and ribbons, as a stock horse and she was an excellent trail horse. I could not bear to sell her, for fear she would not be treated with the kindness she deserved. I had moved her 120 miles away, two years ago, on a friend's ranch. The board was affordable and I wanted her to finish her years in retirement. Her saddle was put away, as she had earned her miles as a trail horse. She was retired. Fast forwarding past all my sentimental thoughts-- I had a deep longing in my heart to bring Savannah home. The Lord made it all happen, with the right ranch, the right price and 10 miles from my house. Savvy came home on May 31st of this year. I could finally go see her on a daily basis, brush her, bring her carrots and appreciate the magnificent beauty of an Arabian horse.

I took this shot of her about 2 weeks ago, on a windy afternoon. I noticed how wrinkled her muzzle was, and that her lip had become loser. Savvy had finally grown old. She was 27 years old. I owned her for almost half of my life. Just this last Saturday, June 29th, Savvy colicked so severely that I had to put her down. While a part of me knew her days were numbered, I was dreading this moment. She is buried on the ranch where I moved her just three weeks ago. Writing this today, I'm finally able to share about her without crying. I cried for two days. I'm sharing this with all of you, because of my grief. I wanted to blog sooner, but was unable to. Now, I can. My son shares my sorrow, because he knew her all of his life. He rode her a few times, but he much preferred skate boarding. Thanks for reading this. I just wanted to share her with you. She is still in my daily thoughts, and always will be. I was there (with my husband) to help her take her last breath, and to slowly lay down that 900 pound body into a peaceful sleep. It made us both realize how life can so quickly slip away.

I am reminded to love and appreciate those who are around me, because we never know when our days on Earth are finished. I've never found anything in the bible that says where animals go, when they die. I cannot imagine that God's creatures can leave such a profound impact in our hearts and lives, that we will never see them again. It is my deepest hope that when I pass from this life, that Savannah will be on the "other side", waiting to carry me home to my Heavenly Father's promised home for me. I long to be free of the arthritis that prevented me from climbing on to Savvy's back, one more time. How I long to feel her powerful legs running and carrying me, with the wind blowing in my hair. Horses are amazing creatures. She is the last horse I will ever own, though. She was the best of the best.

I just had to write this, as it's also very healing for me. There's no smooth transition from talking about a horse to my son. So, how is he? I will not say that he's clean. How can I really know? Unless I have my son take a drug test, at a hospital, that is closely monitored and testing for every drug on the planet, I cannot say with 100% conviction that he is clean. He admitted that he started to chip, in May, when his methadone dose was cut way back. He's on 40mg of methadone now.

I am reading about methadone, and I'm sad to say that my son is dependent on it. I had a fear this would happen, but I just kept hoping that it wouldn't. My son says he needs methadone to help him feel "normal". What a classic question this is-- what is really normal?

My husband accepts my son's honest answer. He was withdrawing and feeling sick. He couldn't find methadone on the street, so he bought heroin. He says he stretched it out, smoking just enough to feel "normal" so he could work. He's working two jobs, seven days a week. We didn't throw him out, but we altered the rules a bit. He's week-by-week staying with us. My son's relapse is a reminder how fragile sobriety can be.

I just looked at the time, and I need to go. I debated deleting about my horse, but I'm leaving it. I hope I didn't bore anyone, and I'm not asking for sympathy. I've had so much support from people. I wrote a more extensive eulogy for her on my other food blog. The outpouring of love was so comforting. I'm better now, and I'm healing with my grief. Seeing her photos and writing about her makes me feel a sense of gratitude. I'll miss her "horse medicine", though. Sometimes, when I felt angry or hurting, I'd go to her barn and hug her and talk to her. She was a good listener. The pain is easing. I'll try to share more on my thoughts of methadone when I blog tomorrow. I'm on vacation.

Thoughts on being the Mother of a Drug Addict

2010-06-15T12:42:00.001-07:00

Dear Son,

I loved you from the moment I knew I would become a mom. The stretch marks, the flabby stomach , the pain of childbirth, and sleepless nights was so worth having you as my precious Baby Boy. I have never lost that feeling for you, my son—even when you first began to show the signs of trying to break free of “Mommy”. The middle school years were some of my toughest, and I admit that there were times when I struggled to like being around you. Our battle of the wills led to some rough times—a lot of my own tears, anger and frustration. I wondered how I could handle the financial challenges in supporting the two of us, on my own meager salary. By the Grace of God, we made it. Amen.

In your high school years, I felt as though I’d lost you. I didn’t know the Baby Boy I once had. Then, my entire world as a mom changed—

My precious boy, with that innocent heart and who couldn’t bear to be away from my protective arms had grown up—and had become addicted to opiates. A new world opened up to me, and it’s a very dark one. I think the hardest thing that the mother of a drug addict has to do is to balance our unconditional love for you, while having to break our heart’s desire to protect you in all things. We find ourselves having to learni two words that were alien to us—“codependency” and “enabling”.

Being the mother of a drug addict is a pain worse than childbirth, in my honest opinion. I love you, son, so much that sometimes my heart feels as though it will burst with strength of it all. When I find out that you have lied to me, the pain cuts very deep. I have always been there for you, always wanted to support, protect and nurture you… so I struggle with how the power of your addiction overrules being untruthful to me. I know that the power of the drugs can take over what you know is wrong and right.

Still, I count my blessings that you are my son. My heart breaks for the moms who cannot physically hold or touch their child—because they are either incarcerated or they have died of an overdose. I have so much hope in you, son! I see so much potential in you. I only wish you could see that in yourself. I pray, every single day, that you will find true joy in your life. I’m not talking the joy of suddenly coming into some money to buy something you’ve always wanted. I’m talking about joy that stays within you, even in the midst of trouble. How I wish that you could experience that! My words sound too cornball for you, at this time. One day, I hope you receive them and understand.

I have come to accept that your life has been irreversibly changed, because there is no cure for addiction. My hope comes from my faith in God and fervent prayer that you will find the strength and courage it takes to resist the temptation to use. You will always be tempted, for the rest of your life. That breaks my heart even more.

Relapse is a word that scares me to no end, my son. It means that you failed to resist the overpowering need to use. Will the rest of your life be spent needing a synthetic opiate to keep you from using? I pray not. I see the fear in you at the thought of withdrawals. I cannot understand it, because I’ve never experienced it. I keep praying that you will make it through some rough times to get past the withdrawals—and that you will have someone in your life that you can trust to help you get through the times that you will want to use. Medication isn’t the only way, and how I long for you to be free of that!

While I cannot understand what if feels like to have an overwhelming need to use—you cannot understand my own feeling of disappointment…despair…sadness…fear… that comes from being the mother of a drug addict.

I can forgive you for the relapse. but I cannot forgive the powers of addiction. How I long for you to find true joy in your heart. How I long for you to want to enjoy your life, and to have a foundation that will hold you up when times are tough.

Look up to God in heaven. He sees you. He knows your heart. He grieves along with me. He loves you more than you love yourself. He has a plan and purpose for you, but you will never know what it is if you try to make that journey all by yourself.

Walk with Jesus, my son, and let go of the hands of the Dark One that you are holding.

No matter what you’ve lied about, or mistakes you’ve made, I love you so much. Hurtful things you say to me do just that—but it never stops the abundant love I have for you!

I wait…I pray… I hope… that you will desire to know God so that He will fill that void in your life with His love.

Always,

Mom

Dawn's Early Light and Quiet Thoughts

2010-06-14T20:59:00.000-07:00

I am married to a remarkable man. C has borrowed one of my own Golden Rules that I've practiced for several years. That is, I have a 24-hour rule that I practice when I am feeling angry, upset or afraid. I do this, to avoid knee jerk reactions. It works quite well, actually. Many times, I find that I come up with a solution... a compromise... or just peace. That, I believe, is the voice of God answering my prayers. This morning, I noticed that my husband seemed distant.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I need 24 hours", he responded.

Yikes. Of course, I immediately did a mental inventory on what I might have said or done wrong. I prayed about it, this morning. Then, I came home from work. C was ready to talk...

It wasn't me at all. C had found my missing kitchen paring knife and a foil. The knife had residue on it. He didn't know how to tell me, he said-- or if he even wanted to tell me.

Tonight, I asked him to talk to me. I was not expecting to see the drug paraphernalia. I was devastated. I got that tight and sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I could feel bile. I could feel tears welling way in the back of my eyes, but never quite spilling out. You know what I'm talking about, parents of addicts, don't you?

I sat there, numb.

Then, I ran to you-- my friends, family and bloggers. You were there for me. I began to do something I've procrastinated doing-- and set up my Google Reader with all the RSS feeds, so I could catch up on many of you. My heart ached for your pain. I read of your loved one's setbacks. I scrolled and read....

Then I felt I wasn't alone. YOU understand. YOU know what it's like.

So, what happened?

B came home and he began with an explanation. My amazing husband looked right at him and said, "that doesn't add up. Tell us the truth".

I could see my son's throat swallowing hard. His eyes were downcast. He stuttered. He hesitated. His eyes welled up for a brief moment.

He admitted, to us, he'd been chipping.

My non-Christian, immediate gut reaction was "how in the hell is that possible?!" But, I didn't say it. I only thought it.

Here's B's explanation:

He says that in May, the tapering down of methadone began. He was only on 28mg a day and was down to 8 mg. He was feeling lousy. Remember that we live in California, and methadone laws vary by state. B says that there are laws on not being able to just jump the dose up. He couldn't take the withdrawals, he says. So, be bought a bag, and stretched it out....that is, he didn't smoke it all at once. He says he's been doing it just the last two weeks, and not a whole lot. He said he couldn't afford it. He was buying methadone, off the street, but that cost more than heroin. He swears that's true. If he couldn't find pills, he bought "black".

I believe that part. He is now up to 40mg of methadone and he plans to stay on it for at least six more months. He says his counselor knows he used and that they are proud of him going back on methadone. His father will help pay half the $450.00 a month and B plans to pay the other.

So, where do we go from here? I have to say that I am amazed at how calm my husband was. He told my son that we would have respected his honesty with us-- that he should have told us how sick he felt and that he needed help. But, I understand why my son didn't. I get it. I've talked to enough addicts who say that's the last thing they can do.

I should make my son leave. Now. It's what we agreed on. So, here I am in the same situation as Barbara and her son Keven. Or Ron and his son Alex. Did my son "f" up this once? Do I give him another chance?
Has he stolen from us? No. He is working two jobs. He is paying rent to us.

So, I need my 24-hours. I need to pray. As of late, I haven't done my ASAP yet. That is "Always Say A Prayer". Me, the God loving, Jesus following Christian. I've been spiritually paralyzed for too many weeks. I think I've become overwhelmed with stress from work, my son, his health, his dental work that is costing me a fortune. Instead of running to the throne, I've been running to the kitchen. I've been eating and I don't feel good about my weight nor how I feel overall. I need to go back to God's throne.

Just this morning, I was talking to God as I drove to work. I was telling Him that I am so distracted, and I feel as though I'm heading into some sort of depression. That's not me, typically. I also know these thoughts are not coming from Heaven. I feel as though I am under spiritual attack.

So, how am I feeling at this very moment? Sad. Disappointed. I told my son that my concern is what is his Plan B when he comes off methadone-- whether it's due to lack of funds or the end of his program? What will he do when the temptation comes to use? It will come. It's guaranteed. How will he find support when he has an overwhelming urge to use.

Oh. One more thing. He bought the heroin from someone at the methadone clinic-- a patient. The very woman who used to deal to him but cut him off.

How I pray that woman will be busted. But that's only scratching the surface.

My son will always be a drug addict-- until the day he dies. What he can be is a drug addict, who is clean and sober-- and who has a support system and sponsor that he can go to when he feels the need to use.

If anything-- I ask that prayers for my family would be for Wisdom. We shall see what the Dawn of Morning brings. May God give me wisdom in my sleep tonight. I pray that I will be given restful sleep and clarity in the morning.

Thank you for your support and comments. I can feel the love and support.

My worst nightmare is back

2010-06-14T18:15:00.000-07:00

We found foil.

Here we go.

Again.

Poison in my son's body and a close call with the police

2010-06-10T21:47:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers, Friends & Family,

Honestly, I pray for and think of so many of you-- Ron (Mom & Dad), Barbara, Cheri... many more of you. I was just saying prayers of thanks, this morning, for my son's six months of sobriety. That's definitely debatable, because some people believe that if you are using methadone then you are not sober. As far as I am concerned, my son is not buying heroin. He's using methadone at a clinic that has a good reputation for dispensing this, in liquid form, and adhering to the state of California's very strict guidelines.

Work has been rough for me, so I came home and promptly fell asleep. I awoke, hearing my son puking his guts out in his bathroom. B was supposed to taper off methadone this month. However, he talked to the clinic director, and they have mutually decided to postpone this decision. B was feeling ill, and he's not ready. B ran out of gas, today, so his missed his appointment to meet with the doctor (at the methadone clinic). They were going to bump up his dose a bit and then come up with a new plan. It broke my heart, to see him this way. I hate that poison that's in his body. I am reminded of my son's days of withdrawals, he was so sick. Basically, he was in withdrawals today-- not horrible. B will be at the clinic at 6:00am, but he's not feeling well tonight.

Damn.

So, last weekend, B went into town for an errand. He was supposed to return with something for me. He never did. I was not happy. I called him a few times. No answer. Finally, he called me and I picked up the phone and said "this better be good".

It turns out my son got pulled over by the police. There had been a robbery and his car (my former car that I gave to him) matched the description. B said the police had the loudspeaker going and all... handcuffed him and threw him in the back of the police car. They had the drug dogs, too. B told them to search the car, because he was innocent. They tore the car up and found nothing. Finally, they got a radio call that the robber had been caught, they apologized to my son and let him go.

All I can say is, that this validates my son isn't using. There wasn't a foil to be found. B was furious at the way he was treated. He was smart enough to ask the cop to give him a business card and to write down the time, to show his boss. That cleared him for being late to work.

My son has more drama in his life!

B just bought some methadone from a friend. I don't like it, but I understand that he would have a tough night trying to get through this. B said he had to do it, otherwise he might be tempted to use.

Frickin' poison. How I pray that my son will finally be able to purge that crap out of his body. Synthetic opiate or not, how I long for my son to be free of drugs of any kind. I can only watch, and feel sorrow for what he's going through.

He's trying so hard, and I have to say that he's been great ever since we allowed him to move home six weeks ago. He's working two jobs. He's paying us rent (savings). For that, I am thankful.

Off to sleep. I hope my son's vomiting stops. This is not good for a diabetic.

I miss many of you. I know I've been scarce. I just had to blog about this. I'm thankful my son will extend his methadone use, for now. I can't believe I'm saying that, but his body isn't ready yet.

Night,

Keeping it Real with my Son

2010-05-29T16:41:00.000-07:00

No, this is not my home! But, I wish it was!

Carmel, California

Memorial Weekend... I hope that everyone, including myself, will be flying the American flag on Monday. My father, who has passed, served in WWII and in the Korean War for our country. He was a veteran, and not a casualty of war. I am thinking of our fallen men and women in Afghanistan and Iran. They deserve a moment of silence and appreciation.

After weeks of unusually cold weather and late rains, it's a beautiful day and I am off for the next three days. I feel so blessed to have a community pool where I can swim early in the morning, and then relax in a jacuzzi. Trust me, there is never a time that goes by that I don't stop and thank God for where I live. Just twelve years ago, I was a divorced mom of a ten year old boy-- deep in debt, scraping by to make ends meet. Today, I'm happily remarried to a wonderful man. My son is almost 22 years old. He's also an addict. He will be, until the day he takes his last breath.

While I have been scarce on this blog, it's only because my son's dramas have (thankfully) come to a dull roar. Amen and thank you, God. He is still living with us and has kept his job, at the golf course, for nine months. Considering that he was using for the first three months, that's a miracle. B is also working at the restaurant, and he likes it a lot. Still, he doesn't make enough money to live on his own. I've been on this blog long enough, that I'm going to reveal the general area of where I live. I live on the Central Coast of California-- close to Big Sur, Carmel and Pebble Beach. Ever been there? It's a very expensive to live. My home is inland, where the real estate prices are substantially less from the million dollar-- and even multi-million dollars homes where I commute to work each workday. To live here, one must make at least $20.00 an hour. My son, who doesn't have a college education-- or even a trade-- makes half that. He works six days a week...sometimes seven but still doesn't make more than $800.00 a month, after gas expenses. I hope that he can live with us long enough to save some money. He's been paying us "rent savings" but he's eeking by.

B's methadone is tapering down, and he's beginning to feel "off". I'm not going to buy into the scare tactics. With all due respect to my regular blog visitor, Angelo, I'm not going to buy into the panic. I've had people tell me that they've taken three times my son's dose and they don't understand why my son is only at 23mg per day. I can't answer that, because I'm not a methadone expert. I can only tell you that California has very strict guidelines...far stricter than most states. I was told that because of my son's youth, that they don't want him to be on methadone for more than six months.

So, while I'm feeling thankful that my son has alienated himself from the friends he once used with-- and that his work keeps him busy and distracted-- I am not feeling a sense that my son's chances of not relapsing are 100%. I ever heard my son say that if he feels "sick" from not using methadone, that he's going back on it. He said, just today, that he doesn't want to use.

What I see in my son is a lack of motivation. I see him lacking any kind of organization skills. His procrastination in taking care of things is enough to frustrate me. I don't say much. Sure, I mention things or I write things down on our family calendar. Still, he doesn't feel any sense of urgency to take care of things-- like taking care of his health or dental work he needs. He doesn't manage his diabetes very well. Sometimes I think he just doesn't value himself. I take into consideration his immaturity and youth, sure.

Just when I find myself wanting to have "the talk" with him (about my frustrations) he greets me with a warm smile and I find him to be that son that I so love and adore.

I'm trying to keep it all real, with my son. For the record, I do believe that addiction is a disease. I don't think it's a choice. What I do believe is that there is a battle between Dark and Light. The darkness knows my son's weakness and wants to tempt him back into full-blow addiction. The Light-- which is God-- is my son's best and only defense against the spiritual attacks on him. I think my son is walking in the middle-- like a tightrope.
I pray for him every single day. I also think of my Blogger Friends, and I pray for so many of you who are going through even worse than I have. I do thank God for the reprieve we've been given. I can only pray that my son will embrace sobriety, so matter what temptations and spiritual attacks that come at him.

Thanks to Barbara, she led me to visit "Mother of a Beautiful Boy". I understand her cry to find other Christian parents of addicts. I've been unabashed in sharing my faith, eventhough there must be people who are non-believers who have stumbled onto my blog. No matter what, we all share the same grief. If you haven't already, please pay her a visit. She's beginning a journey that many of us know all too well...

Blessings,

May Blessings and an update

2010-05-22T19:50:00.000-07:00

My husband and I took a nice drive 120 miles south of where we live to see the purple lupines and other wildflowers in full bloom. That was in early April, but I can remember the sense of peace I felt-- knowing that my son was at work and that he would be moving back to our house in just a few days. B has been living with us for a little over a month now. It's been an interesting May, to say the least. After eleven years of renting my home from a distant cousin, then remarrying to C... we finally bought the house! It's been a huge decision to make, given that the economy hasn't been officially pronounced to be recession free. We took advantage of the big tax credits, and we also thanked the Lord that we didn't buy the house during that crazy real estate frenzy. The sale price of the house was HALF of what it was at the time people were pushing us to buy it. We feel very blessed, though cash poor for a while-- and we'll certainly have to live frugally, until next tax year. Thank you God!

The day after we closed escrow, I lost my job. (Do I hear an "awwwwwww"). It's interesting how I took it all in. The story is that I got "bumped". It's a union term where someone with seniority can take someone's job if they are laid off or get their hours cut. This person got cut from 40 to 36 hours, and thought they are 66 years old, they decided my job would be "fun". I was devastated, mainly because I've grown so attached to the high school kids. That night, I prayed that God would help me see the blessing in all of this. I cried, but C said we would move forward with the house. The next day, I decided to take that person's job. Ultimately, I'm cut down to 36 hours per week. The bummer is that I have to work a split shift-- 9am - 1pm, then 5pm till 9pm.

It took a few days to move from resentment to acceptance and then I found peace with it all. My co-workers tell me that the person will last a month, at best. I'm saying it will last a year, and then they will retire. Hopefully, I can come back. 'Nuff about me.

My son... the last time I wrote was on Mother's Day, just two days before my job change happened. B said something that was one of the biggest compliments he could have given me. He said that he was so proud of me on how I handled what happened. He said that he could see how much faith I have in God, and that I handled it so well. That means a lot to me. I'm so glad that he sees that.

Because of some connections I have, my son will be starting a second job tomorrow. He will return to the restaurant industry as a "busser". Given that's in a part of town that is very affluent, with a lot of tourists, he should make really good money. He is still working at the golf course, and he hopes to keep both jobs.

Is he using? No, I don't think so. He is in the fifth month of methadone, but his blind taper has begun. The plan is that by the end of June, he will no longer be using methadone. FYI to those of you who are familiar with methadone treatment (I don't know all the "lingo"), he has always been on a very low dose, to begin with. I was told about 25mg a day. That's low, right?

B will have maintenance care for a month, which involves seeing the doctor and some blood work.

For the first time in two years, I really do believe that B has a very good chance of staying sober. He has cut off ties with the friends he uses with. He is home every night. His cellphone rarely rings. Most importantly, the drama has ceased! He's eating again and this is the best part-- he has become a loving son, and we are getting along.

He's still disorganized and procrastinates. He's forgetful. He can't manage money well, and I'm trying to teach him skills. He's paying us rent, of which 75% goes into a rent savings for when he moves. He still smokes, though he's cut back.

Oh, and I finally helped him get rid of that stupid car that kept breaking down. I found a great deal on a almost brand new Hybrid vehicle, since I will have a longer commute. I traded in my son's car and gave him my old one. Everybody won!

B and I both know that when the MMR treatment ends-- at the end of June-- that my son is now treading in dangerous waters. Somehow, I have a feeling that he's a little wiser about staying away from those who will want to lead him down the path of temptation. I also believe that B doesn't want to pay the price of getting high. He's so afraid of withdrawals that I think he's wants to steer clear of opiates.

Hopefully, B will quit the golf course and do well at the restaurant, which is 20 miles from where we live. Then, he can rent a room in that area and really break free of this city where he knows too many people. Besides, I have no respect for his current boss. He's broken so many labor laws, not to mention that he's just highly unethical.
Please know, that I remember all of you so well in my thoughts and prayers. I received a lovely email from A Mom's Serious Blunder thanking me "for my introduction to these kind people that offer support here in blog land. I will never forget that." What a very kind thing to say! I feel that way about many of you, who were always there to encourage me when I was feeling so afraid or angry about my son's relapsed.

I am thankful for all the support that I received on this blog and the friendships I've made. I hope you know that my long stretches of not blogging is a good thing. It means that the storms of life have receded for now. Another one will come, and I pray that I will make it through because of my deep faith in God.

Thinking of all Mom's on Mother's Day

2010-05-09T11:59:00.000-07:00

Hello to my friends, followers, family and Anonymous Readers--

My posts are becoming fewer and far between, only because so much has been going on-- unrelated to my son. But today, I was not going to skip the making of time to acknowledge the women who are Mother's of Drug Addicts. I was laying in bed, in the early hours of the morning, feeling so thankful that my son is sleeping in his bed in our own home. The church that I attend has a 25 minute television show that comes on 1/2 hour before we leave to attend it. I had the show turned on, while I was getting dressed and ready for church. Our Pastor (who wears Dockers and Hawaiian shirts) was sharing the message of Jesus and his Mother Mary. I began to think about how painful that must have been for Mary to see her own son, being crucified on the cross. Then all kinds of thoughts began on my own journey as the Mother of a Drug Addict:

Two years ago, at this time, my son was living in a Sober Living Environment in Oakland, California. He was about 125 miles away from home. B had been out of his first detox/rehab for a little over a week. Today, my son is reaching five months of not using illegal street drugs. I hesitate to say that he is "clean and sober". That my son no longer wants to use drugs, because of the Methadone Clinic he goes to is highly controversial. As far as I am concerned, my son isn't using. I digress--

The foremost thought that was on my mind, before leaving to church, was to tell any mom of a drug addict--- "Do not blame yourself"! The only exception to that rule, is if a mom is also a drug addict and is using with or in the presence of their own children-- otherwise, it is not your fault.

In the theme of Mother's Day, I want to lift up in prayer:

I pray for mothers whose drug addicts are nowhere to be found. May God give your heart strength and may He fill your pain with his loving presence and that you will hear from your child-- and that he/she is safe.
I pray for mothers whose child is incarcerated. I know someone like that, and it breaks my heart just knowing the pain that has caused.
I pray for moms whose child is in jail, and you are rejoicing because of it. I understand it. I pray that your child will find the desire and means to change their ways, because of it.

I pray for single moms, who are struggling to make ends meet. May God fill your hearts with encouragement, financial blessings and windfalls, courage and strength. I have walked that path, and it is a very difficult one.
I pray for step moms, who have/are raising drug addicts. I believe that a child doesn't have to come from your own womb. to be worthy of a mother's love. I pray that you will be a positive influence on the children who come into your life, through marriage.
I pray for mothers, whose hearts are broken. God sees your pain, and he grieves with you. I pray that you will find comfort, strength, and friendships and support groups that will help you to find the strength and hope to deal with the sad and tragic stories of addicts who are out of control.
I pray for moms whose drug addicts have found sobriety. I pray that you will turn your own story into one that will encourage moms who are just beginning this journey.
I pray for moms, who have lost their own children, because they are drug addicts themselves. I pray that your life is changing into a life of sobriety, and that you will find reconciliation with your children.
I pray for children, who have been alienated by their own mother because of their choices. If you are one of them, and are reading this-- I pray that God will fill your heart with the strength and courage to call her...right now, today...and to say "I'm sorry" and to ask for her forgiveness.

I thank God, for giving me the gift of Motherhood. No matter what choices my son has made... no matter what lies he has told me... no matter how many tears I've cried and no matter how much anger and frustration he has put me through-- he is my precious son. I have never regretted that B was my chosen gift from God. I would give my life for him, I know it. All the sacrifices I've made for him came naturally-- out of a deep love for him.

With the help of God, I have learned to accept my son, just as he is. I am the Mother of a Drug Addict, yes. But he is still that 9 pound, 12 ounce boy who came into the world 21 1/2 years ago. He might be 6'3 tall, but he will always be MY child. I am not ashamed of him. I am very open to people if the situation comes up about my son's drug addiction. I want God to turn my pain into my testimony.

There is a front page story, in today's local newspaper, about a father of two children. This man became addicted to Oxycontin when he suffered from a degenerative disease of his hips. He's had two surgery, and was said to be in excruciating pain. This men robbed several local pharmacies for Oxycontin. He was finally caught and was sentenced to four years in prison. He had no prior criminal history. He was so desperate for the drug, The article quoted, ""Sixty milligrams, every eight hours, month after month, year after year," is what he took.

I thought of my own son-- it is truly a miracle of God's grace on my own son, that my son is not in a jail cell or prison. I believe that with all of my heart-- for whatever reason, God protected my son from all the dangers of the people who hung out with, places he went to score drugs, and from a period selling drugs to feed his addiction.

My story about my son's drug addiction hasn't ended. For now, I can rejoice that he has lived with us for four weeks. He has paid his rent. He has few friends, as has severed most of his ties with those he used with. He goes to work, six days a week. But, he is the boy that I once knew. I see his loneliness, and I pray that my son will meet someone that God will send into his life. For now, my son says I am his best friend. That's a touching thought, but I am his Mother first and foremost.

I remain, guardedly optimistic. B is supposed to wean off the methadone in one more month.

While my son has failed (again) to buy a Mother's Day Card for me-- I have let go of my pity party over that. What I realized today, in church, is this:

I am absolutely positive that my son loves me. I have no doubt that he sees all that I've done to help him, and he is grateful-- though me might take some things for granted.

I am also thinking of my own mother, who has been gone for 8 years. While our relationship was never the loving friendship that I hope I have with my own son-- she taught me important life skills. I thank her for teaching me all the business skills I have. I thank her for teaching me how to cook, bake and take care of my house. I thank her for raising me with good morals (thought I took a 20 year detour from them) and to be an independent woman. She was a good mom, thought not perfect, and I'm glad I finally told her that I loved her-- and that I apologized for my disrespectful attitude as a teenager. I have peace in that.

Through all the pain and anger B's drug use has brought into our lives, I believe that he regrets it. He tells me all the time. My prayer for B is that he will find ways to deal with the storms of life. I pray that he will become a man of integrity and honor. Whether he embraces the love of Jesus in his life is his choice. Ultimately, I pray that my son will come to know the love of God that our Heavenly Father has for him. God has been so good to us.

I pray that for those who don't know it, yet.

With all of my heart-- Happy Mother's Day. I pray for miracles in your life.

Deuteronomy 6
⁴ Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. ^[a] ⁵ Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. ⁶ These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. ⁷ Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. ⁸ Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. ⁹ Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.

So far, so good and updates on B's addiction

2010-04-24T08:58:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers, Family & Friends,

I'm sorry for my silence. I hardly have time to post on my food blog, let alone here. Still, I think it's worthwhile to update those of you who read my blog (thank you) on how my son is doing. Since I haven't blogged in close to two weeks, I'll do my best to share things I hope will help others-- hopefully to give hope and to share what I am learning during this process:

B moved in two weeks ago, today. My husband and I had a meltdown over it. "C" had his share of worries and not wanting my son to come home...all perfectly understandable. His fear was that B would come here and pull the same crap that he had before. C said that he didn't want an addict in the house, because he didn't want the addict behavior that goes with it. I've never heard my husband hiss such anger at me before, so I was really taken aback. Fortunately, I kept my short-temper in check. I gritted my teeth, and as I headed to work I did what helps me the most-- I talked to God in fervent prayer. I prayed that God would soften my husband's heart so that C could find forgiveness for my son.

I have blogged plenty of my son's lies, manipulations and relapses on this blog. Those of us who are experienced parents of drug addicts know that addicts are master manipulators. They lie so easily that they actually believe what they say to be the truth. Despite the heartache my son has put me through, I still love him. My son has his mother's unconditional love. However, I've come a very long way in the last two years. I have learned that for me to say "no" to my son comes easier.

While praying, I was filled with such love for my husband. He is a wonderful person, with a kind spirit and I am very lucky to be his wife. I realized that the root of the problem is that my son isn't his own flesh and blood. C didn't know my son, until he was almost sixteen years old. At that time, neither one of us knew my son had an addiction to opiates. Neither one of us had even heard of oxycontin. My son was also a typical teenager-- rebellious, disrespectful... added to the fact he was a drug dealer, my relationship with him wasn't the best. I was very frustrated with my son, and he went to live with his father.

For those of you who are new to my blog-- my son was living in a very dark world. He was involved with very dangerous people, who have ties with local gangs. No, my son never joined a gang. But, he was dealing drugs in their turf. I thank God, every day, for his mercy on my son. It is truly a miracle that my son never got arrested. It is equally a miracle that he didn't get shot or stabbed. Sometimes my son tells me horror stories of close calls, and I can't bear to hear it.

I tell you this, because I can understand why my husband had a meltdown about letting my son come home. By the Grace of God, C and I had a heart-to-heart talk-- I explained that I understood why it's so easy for him to dismiss my son. B isn't his own child, and he never played a role in raising him. On the other hand, I explained to him my heartache and love for my son-- and why I can't give up on him. I listened to C's side of the story, and I can understand his frustration about addictive behavior. Both C and I came out of relationships with alcoholics, so we've had our own personal war stories that have left us both with war wounds.

C agreed to allow B to stay with us for one month. That night, I sat quietly, while C told my son his honest doubts and fears about him coming to our house. C's final words to B were "let's give it a month, and see what happens from there."

B hasn't been a problem, so far. His work hours differ from ours, so we only see him for an hour or two, before we retire to bed. What is different, this time, is that B is home. His cellphone barely rings at all. When he comes straight home, from work, he stays in his room. When B was using, he was always leaving the house or sitting in his car (to smoke heroin). His cellphone was constantly going off.

As for B's behavior-- he is, once again, the kid I know. His speech is normal and articulate. He's in a good mood and has not been disrespectful at all. His hygiene is much better. His diabetes is better, in that he doesn't have high blood sugars as much. For a Type I diabetic, stress can make blood sugars soar to dangerous levels.

Money-- this is my son's greatest challenge. The good news is, I'm confident he isn't buying illegal drugs, because he would not have been able to pay his rent etc. B lived in poverty, though. After paying his rent, he could barely afford to buy food and he had to pay gas money to people to drive him around. His clothes are looking worn-out, as are his shoes. I can see why the temptation to deal drugs is hard to give up, because back in those days, my son had all kinds of expensive shoes and electronic toys. It's been a real eye-opener to him, but B says he is glad to be away from "the game". Still, I see that my son borrows money to get by until his next paycheck. The problem is, something unexpected happens, and he finds himself broke on payday-- after paying back his cash advance places and friends. I find some comfort in knowing that my son pays back his debts. Still, I wish my son would understand the concept that if you have to borrow money, that you are living beyond your own means.

Last-- my son's sobriety. This is one of the biggest debates between my husband and me. C thinks that as long as my son is methadone, that he isn't clean. C is frustrated that my son isn't going to a 12-step program.
Let me reiterate my feelings on methadone and sobriety-- which is subject to change:

Sobriety

First, I think that the 12-Step program is brilliant. The 12-steps do make total sense to me. I like that it is a Higher Power based program. Spirituality is good. I believe in the God of the Holy Bible, so I know the power that comes from my faith. I have been to 12-step meetings, about a dozen times. However, the 12-step program doesn't have 100% success with addiction, of any kind. I've been to some meetings that were quite good, and to other meetings where I couldn't leave quick enough-- maybe it was disorganized, or the leadership wasn't very good. I struggle with listening to people whining and complaining, as I've blogged about before. If this format works for you, I'm truly happy for you! It didn't help me at all. In fact, my blog and other blogs like mine are where I've gotten the best support-- and that's a fact. That is not to say that I will never try a 12-step again. We shall see..

The 12-Step program folks do not condone the use of methadone. Many of you have left comments that say methadone was equally addicting as the heroin you were addicted to. I don't disagree. For that reason, B says he doesn't want to go to a 12-step while he is using methadone. He fears being criticized if he lets that fact slip out. This is what I told my husband:

Finding sobriety is, in many ways, similar to my struggle to control my own weight. I am an emotional eater, and always have been-- I know that my weight struggles stem from my childhood abuse. My perfectionism, to be the best at baking and cooking, comes from self-esteem issues. Consequently, my weight has yo-yo'd for most of my adult life. I have a sugar addiction-- which is similar to what drugs to the brain. Sugar gets the endorphins going, and that is why sugar was forbidden in my son's rehab program. I digress. People who have a severe weight problem have, most likely, tried many kinds of diets, starvation, gyms and such-- have lost weight and then gained it all back. In essence, I've done that and relapsed back into my old habits. I've lost and gained weight many times over. Fortunately, I'm not dangerously obese. My point is that there are some people who are so desperately to lose weight, that they have to resort to having gastric bypass surgery. Their lives will forever change, after this drastic surgery.

Methadone, to me, is that drastic last resort for opiate addicts. Unfortunately, my son feels that the 12-step programs (in our small community) don't work for him. Unlike large cities, B has a small and limited choice of meetings. He knows many of the people who go-- and, he says, many of them are still using. They are there because of a court order. B says he doesn't want to see his former "homies". Okay, I can see his point.

The way I see it is-- my son isn't buying illegal drugs. Methadone costs $350.00 at his clinic. The counseling services aren't stellar, though. B's counselor just left the area, and B doesn't like his new one. The good thing is, this clinic has B on a very low dose of methadone... very low. The goal is to begin tapering him off in two months. It's what B says he wants.

The reality is-- I am concerned if this is really going to happen, as B plans. Will my son be able to quit using methadone and not go back to using heroin? God only knows.

I do wish that my son would have a positive experience at an NA meeting. I pray that he will find a sponsor so that my son will go into a true full sobriety status. Ideally, I would hope to see my son find the skills and support to say "no" to someone tempting him to use-- or when life gets tough, that my son won't resort to getting high to take life's pains away.

For now, I see that methadone has helped my son to function as an employee. He has worked for seven months, barely missing any work at all. This is huge!

I am not rejoicing in my son's sobriety 100%. I know that the methadone is what is keeping him from buying heroin. For now, I continue to keep the communication open with my son. I am happy that our relationship is calmer and closer. I can see that my son is lonely for friendship, but he says he finally sees that having drug addicts as roommates doesn't work.

As for my marriage-- C and I are doing well. We don't fight. C apologized for his anger, and I apologized for my reaction. My son gives us privacy and respects our home, by staying in his room most of the time. I see my husband's heart growing more compassionate. This is God's work, I know it.

Sorry I wrote such a long post. I really do need to make time to post more often, and not so lengthy. There is so much I want to journal about. I really want to reach people who are looking for hope and for answers. I'm not an expert at all. I'm just a mom who loves her Lord and Savior...who draws on her faith...and who has learned the power of forgiveness. Because of these things, I have never given up hope on my son.

One day at a time...

Sleeping on it...

2010-04-11T21:25:00.000-07:00

These are my son's eyelashes. It's not fair that I haven't been able to find mascara-- at any price-- that would make my own lashes this big! I took this photo of my son, yesterday, while he was napping on the couch.

Just a few quick comments, after reading many of yours:

While it might seem that I could be "controlling" when I say my son needs to pay rent...and that I'd be upset if I see him buying electronic toys while he lives with us-- this is what I asked my son-- "B, is it fair that you stepdad and I are paying 2/3 of your methadone treatment and you go out and buy an X-Box?" My son paused...and quietly said, "you're right". We are allowing B to move back home to give him a hand UP... to help him get financially on his feet so that he can go out and rent a room somewhere. He will have money to spend, but it won't be a lot. He has debt to take care of, and he wants that.
To "Anonymous", who said that methadone was far worse than suboxone... I appreciate your candor. However, if you read more of my blog, you would know that my son tried it and it didn't work. The level of opiates he used, and for the length of time didn't work. Bottom line-- I have come to believe that there is no cookie cutter solution to help addicts stay in recover. It is up to each individual. I can only say that methadone is working for my son-- and I am fully aware that he could very well become dependent on methadone for the rest of his life. I hope not, but this is my son's own battle.
I can't remember who suggested this, but it's a brilliant idea-- my son will pay rent money to his step dad That way, he can't manipulate mom. My husband thought that was terrific!

For those of you who are just jumping on to my blog, my two year anniversary was on April 7th, when I first started to journal my journey as the mother of a Drug Addict. The last two posts discuss my son's latest drama, and that he needs to come home. I am responding back to some comments (above).
So, here we are-- my son will move in on Tuesday. I am very proud of how well my husband handled the talk with my son. I didn't interrupt, and let my husband say what was on his mind. B listened. I could see the tears welling in his eyes-- and they are the kind of tears that he couldn't stop.

I can only hope and pray, that my son has learned how hard life is on it's own. He's had roommates rip him off, he's been robbed. He's had a roommate commit suicide (one year ago). He's been fired from a job, gotten another, been rehired and has been there for six months. He's gone without much food, no cable TV and he sorely could use some new work clothes. He's had dirty laundry, he couldn't afford to clean. He's very lonely and has no friends-- because he's distanced himself from the circle of friends he used with.

My attitude is that my son has a new beginning with us. I told him that it's up to him to prove to his step dad that he isn't using illegal drugs. He's been given a thorough discussion on what the house rules are. My husband said he'd give him one month and then "we'll see what happens".

It's up to my son, as to what happens next.

As to why I published this photo of my son-- I never tire of watching him sleep. It's what moms do. I still see that sweet little boy, and I pray he has come home to mature and to start over with us.

Sleeping on it, and fine-tuning decisions...

2010-04-07T09:06:00.000-07:00

Thank you, everyone, for your comments, suggestions and advice.

First, a few more vital details to help all of you understand how I will base my final decisions on my son:

The amount owed to my son's apartment management is $4,000. Yes, that's right! $2K is back rent, with HUGE fines added to it. My son paid his share of the rent, and I know this-- because I was the one who bought the money when my son would give me the cash. The remaining $2K is the penalty for breaking his lease. B's ex-roommate is legally responsible, too. But, it will be a matter of tracking him down and if my son will actually go through the process of suing him. My son can look forward to having 25% of his wages garnished. Tom suggested what I already had-- and that's what my son went in to do, yesterday. He went in to ask if he could make payments on the back rent. The answer was "no". This complex is corporate business.

The free advice that my son was given, by his family attorney, was good-- the attorney said "the next time you rent a place, don't sign a lease unless you can afford to pay all of the rent yourself". Amen. My son, hopefully, will take this valuable advice to heart. Actually, his credit is ruined for many years, so he won't be able to rent from a place like that for a very long time.

My son's car-- my son could sell the car for $3500.00, easily. I am picking B up in 45 minutes to take the car into the repair shop, again. From what the mechanic says, it's the oil cooler. He's a family friend and he is trustworthy. If it's less than $200.00 to fix, then his dad is going to pay it. We'll slap a FOR SALE sign on it, and B will pay his dad back, from the money he gets for it. If the car costs more than that to fix, then it's time to junk it. It's ironic that his father is such an expert with cars-- he restores CanAm race cars and knows a lot about mechanics. Why his dad picked this particular model of car, puzzles me. I hoped my son would, instead, by an inexpensive and dependable car like a Toyota. I think B is over wanting a sporty looking car, now. This one has been a real pain.

Now then-- C and I talked about my son coming back to our home. Actually, C started the conversation, and I listened. C is afraid that B will get too comfortable, here, and overstay his welcome. He wants him to be here for a "couple of weeks". I listened, though my son needs more than 2 weeks to get back on his feet.

I read many of your comments to my husband. He listened. Two phrases, that really stood out (thank you Ron and Lisa) is that we need to decide if we are giving B a hand OUT or a hand UP. My son is also in his RECOVERY stage, and not ADDICTION. I reminded my husband that B it is apparent that he is no longer using drugs. If he was, he would NOT have paid any rent, and been evicted long ago. Plus, C has bought his own groceries and paid friends gas money to get him to work. The methadone is working for him, Amen.

Plus, I give kudos for my son for putting up with an abusive and unethical boss. B goes to work, on time, rain or shine. He works hard.

My husband has very valid concerns, and the three of us need to sit and talk about it, today. Some of C's concerns, as I understand them are:

Manipulative behavior - mainly over money.
Manipulating his mom into doing this for him.
Laziness - my husband is a hard worker.
Lies - obviously, this comes easily for drug addicts.

He is also concerned that I give in too easily to my son, though he understands why-- that I love my son unconditionally. NOTE: Our pastor recently said "the definition of loving someone unconditionally means that you can love them, despite their own dysfunction". Amen.

C has agreed that my son needs help. It looks like we are going to allow B to come home, but we need to come to some very specific guidelines. I'm the kind of person who writes things down, and my son will read it and sign it.

The reason I WILL charge my son rent is this-- he needs to have "ownership" of the cost of living. HOWEVER, 3/4 of the rent will go into a savings account. That money will be paid towards the next room he rents. 1/4 of it, will (barely) cover the cost of his living here. B will have to buy some of his own groceries-- like his sodas that he is addicted to and he drinks enough milk to support a dairy farm.

He will now be able to pay for his car insurance and gas, with what he makes.
He will pay a certain amount of his paycheck back to reduce his debt. I will make sure that happens, because he will give the money to me.

I will also tell him that since we are helping him get back on his feet, that I don't want to see a new X-Box or new "toys" with the money he is saving, by living with us. Yes, he should be able to go to a movie, or buy a new pair of shoes etc. Everyone should have a reward for their hard work and honest money. I told my son that I would resent it if my son lived off us to indulge in "things". He needs to save money and become debt-free.

There will be a cap on how long he can stay with us, though. Of course, if we find any signs of drug use, he leaves immediately.

B says he is 110% willing to comply. Of course, C is wary that my son will do that.

I understand. There is always a "honeymoon" period, when a kid returns home. Let's hope that my son has really changed enough to learn the value of integrity.

I feel bad, though, that I heard my husband get up at 4:30am. He got dressed and went into the living room to watch TV. I knew he was worried/upset about my son coming back. God help us!

I'd better get ready to pick him up. I value your feedback, advice, support and comments. Thank you.

My son's second bottom

2010-04-06T12:00:00.000-07:00

Oh, boy. Here we go. My son's life has definitely hit an all-time low. I feel so bad for him, and yet I still see this had to happen.

My son is getting kicked out of his apartment. He got served ten days ago, but didn't take seriously that he had five days in which to respond. We kept telling him to handle it, but he didn't. That's how my son rolls-- what I see in him is that when life gets really hard, he curls up into a ball. He can't face it. Oh, he talks tough, but he's not a violent person in any way. It's what one of his traits that I know and love.

He finally caught the apartment manager (and the office is rarely open, as it should be). He explained his situation, and he has paid his share of the rent. Bottom line, he has until the 14th to get out of his apartment...maybe less. My son was told that the sheriff would come to remove him. He finally went to see an attorney, who is a good friend of his dad's. The attorney told me that since he missed the five day window to respond, he has no defense. His roommate-- who split on him, and is on the lease-- basically gets away with it. His former roommate is nowhere to be found So my son is left holding the $2000.00 debt, and his credit is ruined for seven years. He won't be able to rent from any kind of apartment or house landlord for quite some time. Worse, there is a law-- and I think it's all wrong-- that people are being denied a job, when a credit check is done and it comes up bad. Employers think you might steal...Don't even get me started on that one! My son can pay the apartment manager $2000.00, and all is forgiven. He doesn't have it, and neither do I. Besides, I have no intention of paying his former friend/roommate's share of back rent. No way!

In some ways, I see this as a good thing. I know this sounds weird, because my son is sitting in his car and he is crying. His car-- $2,000 later-- still doesn't run. It's spewing oil and overheating. It just might be dead, and now he's really screwed. No home. No transportation. But sometimes, it is through our pain that we can learn. Maybe my son will understand that when you ignore the responsibilities of life, that this is what happens. Life is very real, and the law is the law.

What is there to do?

I told my husband, and I know he's not happy about having my son come home. I understand that, given all that he put us through.

But what should I do? He's sober, because of methadone. Living here, without a car, will be a major problem for my son. We live in the suburbs-- no city buses, no taxis and definitely not walking distance. Bicycle would be like the Tour de France, where we live.

I need to pray and think....

I feel so bad for my son. But, if we backtrack, he had to leave because of drugs. He moved in with someone he used with....who made B's life a living hell. Ultimately, that drug addict/alcoholic left my son holding the bag. There ya go.

I'm on hold-- I have to think. I need to figure out what defines helping and enabling. I do feel bad for him, because he really is trying.

Bottom sucks. Been there, years ago-- different circumstances, but I do know that feeling of despair. My protectiveness is coming out... so I need to go, and think and pray. Letting my son move back in will start a whole new chapter-- and it will definitely compromise my tranquil marriage to his stepdad. I need wisdom... God's wisdom.

Happy Easter and more relfections on my son's journey

2010-04-04T12:17:00.000-07:00

Easter is the most important Christian holiday, second only to Christmas. It is a time to celebrate the resurrection of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. It is a day to remember that Christ suffered and died for the sins of the world. It is a very humbling day for me.

I made an Easter breakfast for my husband. B has his car fixed, so he joined us. Later on, I'll bake a glazed ham, and a couple of simple side dishes. By choice, I wanted this Easter to be a quiet one. I've been over committed with projects, a busy and stressful week of work and my son's constant up and downs in his life. I am on vacation all of next week, hoping to use this time to relax, face some projects I've been procrastinating about... and to enjoy some quiet time with my husband.

B will join us for dinner, again. I still marvel at how much better my son looks. I didn't fully realize just how much opiates change my son, until he began to get better-- with the help of methadone. Physically, he looks much better. He smiles a lot more. He has more energy. He doesn't talk so fast, that you cannot understand him.

I know he's not completely out of the woods, yet. Two years ago, at this time, my son was writhing in pain from detox. My husband and I had attended our first four-hour long class in addiction. My son's rehab did an excellent job with that. We watched movies to better understand how the human brain is affected by drugs and alcohol. Parents, children, and loved ones, crowed into a meeting room to learn and to share our feelings with one another. I remember looking at patients who I would have never guessed had an alcohol and/or drug problem. Some patients were visibly shaking...others were nodding off. I watched loved ones interact with one another, and I felt so sad for many of them.

My son thrived in the rehab, where he stayed for 30 days. He quickly charmed the leaders, and made many friends. He was very sick for about 10 days. He almost walked out, because the detox put him into a panic. But, he made it-- and he stayed clean and sober for six months.

I have to say that my son was blessed in every way-- from him getting the last bed that was available...to his insurance agreeing to keep him there for 30 days. Typically, his insurance would only authorize 7-10 days, but because of his diabetes they were able to keep him in longer.

I feel bad for families who cannot afford rehab. The cost was $36,000. Our share to pay was $3,600.00. I give God all the glory and gratitude for making it all happen.

Though my son relapsed six months later, he eventually returned to the same rehab. He met two drug dealers, used while in it and sold drugs as soon as he got out. This goes to show that even the best rehab center isn't a guarantee that it will "cure" them. The bottom line, I have finally accepted, is that is my son's choice to fight for sobriety or to live a cycle of relapses that can eventually lead to jail and/or death. Pun intended, it's a very sobering reality. I do believe that the 12-step program is the best support any addict can choose to follow.

For my son, he still doesn't see the value in it. For now, the methadone keeps him from wanting to use. I have finally surrendered to my not wanting him to use methadone as a crutch. I have to say, that it has been the only treatment that has kept my son clean for longer than five day stretches.

As for me, I continue to find support in my faith and the power of prayer. My son surprised me, by showing up for Easter service last night! It was such a powerful moment while we were singing "Amazing Grace" that nobody came forward to accept Jesus in their life... the pastor asked to sing one more verse, saying that a war is waged inside us when a person wants to become a Christian. Finally, people began to come forward. I could hardly sing, because I was choked up with emotional tears.

I thank God, that I heard that calling twelve years ago. I am thankful that I finally wanted to receive the salvation of Christ, to be cleansed anew and to begin to take my first steps alongside Christ Jesus.

Blessed Easter

Quiet Reflections two years after my son's addiction is revealed

2010-03-31T18:37:00.000-07:00

Two years ago, tonight, my world as a mom came to a grim and horrible realization. My son had a serious drug problem. I wasn't sure what was going on with my son, except that he had moved in with his dad. B and I were constantly fighting. His behavior was erratic. He didn't graduate with his class, because he was 10 credits short. I honestly had no idea the depth of my son's trouble.

Two years ago, today, I remember B's father calling me in a total panic. My son had a drug problem, but I didn't fully understand what it was. That's the truth. All I remember is asking my boss if I could leave my job-- it was close to noon.   I remember driving to the local drug clinic, and finding that since my son was 18 years old, he couldn't enter their program. I remember driving to the only drug rehab place I knew about-- meeting a woman who told me they didn't take insurance. The number $8000.00 for detox made me spin with fear for my son.

She handed me a business card, with a phone number of a hospital that was located two hours north of me. She said that they could probably take my insurance. In my car, with trembling hands, I prayed and I dialed the number. A voice answered. I told her my problem. Yes, they take our insurance!

Earlier that day, someone I work with gave me the business card of a man who does drug counseling. I dialed that number. He answered! I told him that my son was sick. I didn't understand what he was using, but he was a mess. His father said my son was smoking hash. Ha!

Noah said he had an appointment to see my son in a couple of hours. The treatment center had one bed available, but explained my son had to want to go in.

The stage was set.

I cried and I prayed the 30 minute drive home. I called B's dad and told him what I had learned.
My son got on the phone.

"B", what if I told you I could get you into a safe place where you will be in a hospital. A place where you can detox. They promise you won't be stuck in a room all alone to do a dry detox."

The wait for my son's answer was agonizing.

"I don't want to hurt, mom", I remember him saying.

"You won't", I said. I meant it. My son was in trouble.

"There's a man who wants to talk to you. Will you go see him?"

My son reluctantly agreed to do that, but didn't commit to going in to rehab.

Tick, tock, tick, tock. I waited.

My home phone rang.

It was my son. He loved Noah! It turns out Noah is a drug intervention counselor. My son was ready to go in for help!

Praise God! I was so relieved. We would leave at 6:00am, to take my son into rehab.

How little did I know what laid ahead for all of us! I did not know my son was freebasing heroin. I'd never heard of such a thing! I was so naive. I was so afraid.

For the next few weeks, my journey was one of fear, anger, frustration and pain. I tossed and turned, and I began a new chapter in my life.

The calls of concern from my best friend, Cliff, family and friends was both overwhelming and deeply appreciated.   I started this very blog, because I grew tired of trying to explain things. It's like a person dying, and people want to know updates.

In the almost two years, since this blog was started-- I have met so many wonderful people. Ron & Barbara-- thank you so much for all of you loyal support. You have been there for me in good times and in bad. You have never judged me. Cheri-- my wonderful prayer warrior. I love your faith!   Some of my followers have stopped leaving comments... maybe you're reading still, maybe you've moved on. I appreciate so many of you-- Madison, Lisa C... so many wonderful folks, and please forgive me for not listing your names one at a time.

I think that I blogged often, when I was still in my panic mode. Blogging helped me to release a lot of stress. Sometimes, when I was angry, I'd vent here. So many of you came to my rescue. Sometimes, a comment would hurt my feelings-- many of you came to support me.

But now-- I'm doing well, despite the fact that my son is three months clean and sober. He's using methadone, so some might dispute if that's clean and sober. To me, it is. My son isn't buying illegal drugs. He's still holding on to his job. He's always broke. His been served his final eviction notice-- though he's paid his share of the rent. He can't afford the rest. Neither can I. At least his former roommate has been served, and hopefully he will show up in court.

My son is showing signs of maturing. He is going to face this, and we both agree that this will make him stronger.

One last thing-- to my newest blogger friend-- Tom, at the Recovery Center. I missed your comment you made on this post.   It's where you felt compelled to share your views on my analogy about drug addiction being good vs. evil. I won't get into a long theological debate on this. I can see where you might have misunderstood my Christian point.

I do not consider drug addiction to be good vs. evil. I do believe it's a disease. HOWEVER-- please understand that I am not a spiritual woman. I am not religious. I am a Jesus loving, Bible believing Christian. I have spent the last 8 years, immersing myself into reading and understanding the truths of the bible.

My point is that, as a Christian, I believe that we are only pilgrims on this planet. This is Satan's domain. I believe that God has a kingdom, and I know that when I die, I will be there. That's my faith statement in a nutshell.

My point I was making is that the Dark One will use things like addiction as his tool, to make us fail. I was thinking of how best to explain my point to folks who might not agree with my faith, beliefs, the Bible or Yahweh-- my God and creator of the Universe. Remember the story of Pinnochio-- the Disney version, that is. Remember "Temptation Island", where Pinocchio is tricked into going to the Island where they could eat all the candy and do anything they wanted. Only, they were duped-- and the boys began to turn into donkeys? Remember Jiminy Cricket? Well, Jiminy Cricket is the Holy Spirit-- Pinnochio's conscience.

My point was that my son will be tempted to use again. Because I believe that Satan is real-- my point is that my son needs to find refuge in God's perfect strength. As Christians, we believe that God is above all else, and even Satan cannot stand up to him! That was my point!

Had my son resisted the temptation when that girl offered him his first pills-- maybe he would have never triggered his drug addiction! Who knows? But now, he needs to stay away from folks who will tempt him. That is also a 12-step believe.

I do not demonize my son! By the way, my son believes in Jesus Christ. He made the choice, on his own, when he was 12 years old. He just hasn't forgiven himself for what he's done-- so he thinks he is unworthy of God's forgiveness. I never, EVER shove my faith on him or anyone else I don't take insult in your honest opinion, Tom. Unless someone really commits to being a Christian-- and they cannot fully accomplish this if they don't learn the Word of God, and surrender their will to God's... well, it's hard for someone to understand.

My definition of a "spiritual" person is someone who believes in a Higher Power. But, that doesn't necessarily mean they are a believer in Jesus Christ. I know "spiritual" people who worship the Universe. I worship the Creator of the Universe.

I have shared plenty of my own testimony on how God and Jesus changed my life. I was not a very nice person, until 12 years ago. It's when I began to seek to know who Jesus really was and is. I have only been a true follower for about 8 years-- and I have lost friends over it. They were friend who didn't believe-- I still love them, but I won't compromise my principles that I try to abide by-- the 10 Commandments.

'Nuff said.

More later... As for my son-- I give God all the praise and glory for his mercy, his Grace and for making things happen to help my son. I could not be as strong as I am without my Lord, Jesus Christ.

Amen.

Nuclear Meltdown - my son is coming apart at the seams ... how can I help? How can God help?

2010-03-25T12:24:00.000-07:00

Dear Son,

You are retreating into your cave again, and I can hear the fear in your voice. I am praying for you. I am praying for me. Just some thoughts:

When life spins out of control.
You can choose to become a victim.
You can blame your woes on everyone else.

How to set yourself up to fail:
Financially - borrow money, banking that you'll be able to pay it back.
If you are counting on robbing Peter to pay Paul...that is, collecting money owed to you, to pay back someone you owe money to-- you are playing Russian Money Roulette.

Addiction:
Once your brain has gotten a sweet taste of drugs, it becomes a hunger that wants to be fed.
The need to be fed become bigger than life. It becomes like that evil God-- Baal-- that led people of the Old Testament to feed live babies into the fire to feed it.
Baal represents the evil of evils in worship.

The Dark One's greatest weapon:
In order to keep you in bondage with drug addiction, the greatest weapon that Satan has is to throw enough situations at you, that you will collapse. He wants you to feel despair to the point that you will seek release by using. To sweeten his grasp on you, he might even put you into a situation to steal, deal and to take what isn't yours. He will even convince you that it's okay.

Recovery:
Recovery cannot stand a chance of suceess without the tools you need.
Baal will continue call out to be fed.
The evil of addiction is powered by the Dark One. The Dark One is very clever.
"It" will feed you lies.
"It" will promise you sweet escape from the stresses of life.
"It" has such a powerful hold on it's victim, that it will justify the lies it takes to get what it wants.

Support:
The battle of addiction, being evil, can only be won by the power of Good.
God is Good.
God is Love.
God is Merciful.

You can choose the support of your friends. BUT--
If your friends are drug addicts, they will pull you right back into the Pit of Evil.

The support that will save you, and keep you, and encourage you comes from Good.
The 12-steps works. If you don't like the groups in our area, there are other resources.

That is why I chose to change my own life circumstances. I got tired of the constant worry, and battles in my life. I am so thankful that my life was so miserable, so lonely and so hopeless and that I found my Savior in Christ Jesus.

I have come to believe that God allowed my pain and suffering as a way for me to finally reach a dead end. I also believe that God was not the cause of my own pain and suffering.

I was.

God gave each of us "free will" to make our own choices. While nothing is impossible for God, He is not going to force you to accept him as your Creator.

YOU can CHOOSE to change your life.
Life isn't easy, and God never said it would be.
We are living in the World in a way he did not create it to be.
We are living in a world that is fighting against good and evil.
You have a choice to make--

1. Keep trying to deal with the stress of life-- drugs, money, roommate problems-- on your own. How's it working for you?

2. Choose to give it all to God and to make an effort to live life with integrity, which is how God wants us to be. It will not be an easy journey. Our character is so used to doing things our way-- and God wants us to do it HIS way. We are a work in progress. God knows we will stumble and fall. BUT, if we learn to trust in Him, to get to know Him, he can change our heart.

I am speaking from my own experience.

I pray that you will find that when trouble comes, it is FAITH alone, that gives us strength.

I have been working on change my heart for twelve years. I never want to go back to the way I used to treat people, and my own lack of good character.

I pray that for you, son.

I know you are in trouble, right now. I can feel it. You are having a meltdown.

I'm on my knees praying for you. Remember, you are a sick as the secrets you keep.

Another one goes to rehab, but it's not my son

2010-03-24T16:04:00.000-07:00

So. Here I am. It will be two years, on April 1st, as the day I first found out my son was an opiate addict. How little I knew then! How ignorant I was.

Are you finding my blog for the first time? I hope so! Are you a regular follower, who has wondered what's up with Debby?

Well, I am here. I am angry at a parent, if you really want to know. It's more of a frustrated anger, really. It's not something that will make me toss and turn. It has to do with a parent who is in total denial that his son is a drug addict.

It's my son's roommate-- or, should I say, as of today... he's also gone into rehab.

B called me, upset last night. History is repeating itself. His roommate "A" owes my son backrent. My son can't find a new roommate. His original roommate (to you newcombers) split, on a one year joint lease with my son in December. B has scrambled to get a roommate, and he took in his friend "A".

Only B, I think, was delusional in thinking he could "save" A from his newfound addiction to Heroin. A was clean for a long time, from addiction to oxycontin. This time, he got hooked on heroin.

It's been interesting to watch my son go through what he put me through! A got fired from his job, and smoked what money he had. B kept nagging A to be more responsible, and even had him sign a paper that he would pay XX number of dollars for rent. Only A couldn't keep his promise, because he's hooked. He needs his fix.

The other day, my son said that A swears he'll come up with the backrent. In the meantime, my son has paid his share of rent, but not the rent is in arrears. He got an eviction letter. My son said he just couldn't throw A out on the street.

Really. I reminded my son that this was the agony that he put me through six months ago.

B was quiet. Then he exclaimed "but I'm your son"!
Yes, you are, B. That's why it broke my heart to make you leave our home.

So, it happened. A's father, showed up at the apartment to collect his son's things. He threatened to call the cops on my son, saying he'd have them find drugs. Only my son is clean. I know this, because he is getting his daily dose of methadone, and he looks and acts the best he's been in two years.

Back to the latest--

A's father blames my son. He called my son a loser and all kinds of accusations. My son was upset, because he was trying to help A detox.

I reassured my son that he did not hold a gun to A's head to use. A made that choice. The father is ignorant, and in denial. Both of A's parents have enabled him to no end. A's girlfriend is 17, and A has lived in her bedroom on and off for two years, with the mom sleeping in the same house! Hello?

If you are reading this, and you are at the beginning of the journey I've traveled for two years-- this goes to show. You cannot blame yourself for your kid addiction-- UNLESS you used with them, or you have known it and chosen to ignore it... even to the point of buying your kid drugs.

I say this, because I'm somewhat guilty of that as is his father. By that, rather than having my son suffer dangerous withdrawals, I helped him to buy methadone on the "street". This was a while ago, and I justified it that I was waiting for my son to get into a clinic.

It's wrong.

As for A's father-- he has his own journey to find. He can blame my son, but B says he had no drugs in the apartment. A warned B ahead of time to clean up A's room. My son (B) said he found drawers full of foils, which he clean up and threw out.

History repeating itself. I used to find lots of foils in our house. They made me sick to my stomach.

I rejoice that A is in rehab! I have been praying for this. I pray that his parents (who are bitterly divorced) will learn how to effectively be the parent of a drug addict. Its' a hard thing to learn. But, you must learn it! You need to go to support groups to talk to parents who have been there, done that.

I'n not an expert. But I've come a long, long way in two years. A's parents have a long way to go, because they need to take that first step. They need to say, and mean,
"My name is ________ and my son/daughter is a drug addict".

My son is spinning out of control, tonight with worry. His stepdad will pick him up in an hour. We'll talk.

I have no idea what will happen. My son just needs to calm down.

Like I kept trying to tell him-- he was counting on a drug addict, in full-blown "use" mode to come through with rent money.... "ain't gonna happen". A isn't home. The drug demon has kidnapped A. I pray that A will detox, get into a program and get the help he needs. God help him.

As for my son-- I still remain with an awareness that he could relapse at any time. It's only been four months. It's a long, hard journey.

I pray on my knees, with heartfelt pleas that God will grant me wisdom, courage and strenghth.

I pray that for many of you parents out there, who are just like me. Just like A's father.

It sucks.

Quick Update of encouragement and slow progress

2010-03-12T16:26:00.000-08:00

I have been blogging here, mentally, for days and days! Sometimes, I'm just inspired to share the things I've learned in the almost two years since my son revealed to me his deep, dark secret of opiate addiction. Sometimes, I just want to share happy moments with my son. Other days, I want to vent. I just don't have a lot of spare time to write the things I so want to share here.

Sometimes, I drive to the ocean which is just a few minutes from my job. I park, overlooking one of the most beautiful and famous areas of the California Coast. I listen to the waves, eat my packed lunch-- sometimes I read a foodie magazine... or do a little bible study. Other times, I just sit and reflect on how blessed my life feels.

How is my son? He is 21 years old. Depending on how you feel about methadone-- he has three months free of buying illegal drugs. B says that he has absolutely no desire to use. Amen! He struggles with everyday life, of course. He hates his boss, he says. I try to rephrase that way of thinking to be "he is frustrated with his boss". Sometimes, there are people who are given power in their position as a manager-- but they are lousy leaders. Still, my son shows up to work on time. I'm happy to see that. My mother always gave me that desire to be punctual to work-- even early. Because we've been experiencing some heavy rains, that shortens his work day-- thereby reducing his paycheck.

B is having a terrible time with his roommate "A". Very long story, short-- his original roommate, who is on the lease, bailed on my son in January. I'm delighted, because M is living a very dark life. He was a terrible influence on my son-- a thief, a liar and I can only pray he is finding sobriety in his rehab.

In desperation, B's friend "A" moved in. He has been sketchy with paying rent. A is so heavily addicted to heroin, that he got fired from his job. My son is disgusted with A, but he feels he's stuck. He says he needs "A" to help pay the rent. But A hasn't kept up with it. He smokes his money. What's so sad is that I know "A". He's not dangerous like "M" is. A doesn't pack a gun. He is a nice young boy of 20. Unfortunately, he got hooked on a dangerous drug. So far, he hasn't robbed anyone. His family enables the addiction. I pray A will run out of money, that will finally get him to seek help.

I can't help my son with that. His trust account is emptied out. It's gone. I have helped my son by buying him food staples, while he waits for food stamps to happen. I am angry at the multitude of rejection letters we've received to get my son any kind of medical insurance. Because he is a diabetic, insurance companies will NOT insure him! He doesn't qualify for Medi-Cal, because he is 21. If he had a disability, was under 21 or was homeless, he would. Hello?

The good thing is that my son keeps a positive attitude, despite his troubles. . He says that in the last six months (I can't believe how fast it's gone) of having to leave out house-- he thinks it was a good thing. He says he appreciates what he had, and he doesn't blame me for making him leave. We are closer than ever.

I am seeing my son take baby steps forward. He still gives up far too easily. He is afraid to deal with collection letters or being declined benefits. I keep telling him to fight it -- appeal them. Don't give up, because that's what insurance companies expect!

Today, my son was bummed. He said that "A's" job hasn't' paid him back rent. The company that recently hired him hasn't paid anyone.A's family is beginning to call him a "loser". I'm sorry for how that must hurt A, but he is so lost. B has tried to get him into treatment, but A isn't ready.

I said to B that I see him as not wanting to kick out his "friend". Only A isn't his friend right now-- he's not A. He's a drug addict spiraling out of control. I reminded him that this is exactly what I had to do to B last year. B was quiet...

So, I went on to say-- "You are keeping A from reaching his bottom." You are hoping for a drug addict, in denial, to miraculously come up with rent money. It's not gonna happen. He'll buy drugs before he'll pay you."

"You're right", my son said.

B says he knows someone who is clean and says he would be his roommate.

Give the apartment house a 30-day notice to move into a 2-bedroom and make it happen, I suggested. Give up on A. He needs help!

I feel bad for my son, but he needs to take action. My son has six months left on this lease. Sure, he could break it and ruin his credit for many years-- they could sue him for $2000.00 to break the lease....

My son cannot come home to live with us. We said to even consider it, he needs one year of sobriety-- and, his energy is so strong and overpowering (as in he's a chatterbox) that I hate to give up the peace and quiet my husband and I have come to know.

So many sad stories have come my way, via my job and my church youth group. I have so much wisdom I hope to share with people who read my blog. I don't want to post drama anymore. I hope that this blog will evolve to be a place where parents can feel that there is some wisdom and encouragement to be found here.

I hope to have more time to do that. Please don't give up on reading me. Subscribe to me, if you wish.

I am not abandoning this blog. For now, I'm feeling gratitude that my son's mind isn't feigning for drugs. I have my son back, and I pray that he will never go back to that dark world.

Even my own son says he is disgusted with A, and that seeing A's life in such a mess reminds him of where he came from-- and he doesn't want to go there.

Happy Friday. I'm going to make h'ors doevres and a cold glass of beer when I get home. It's been a stressful work week-- and I'm sick of hearing budget cuts and potential job cuts in the school districts. I don't want to lose my job, but I'm not going to collapse in fear.

God has a plan. I will wait and trust.

A Prayer for Help and Gratitude from B's Mom

2010-03-05T15:37:00.000-08:00

Heavenly Father,

I thank you, every day, that my son is alive. Thank you, God, that despite my son's drug addiction and his troubles that you have helped us to grow closer. I lift up my son, in prayer, because he life is still filled with turmoil. My heart is heavy that B is still unable to get health insurance. Father, I pray you will move in the hearts of people who can fix the medical insurance problem. I pray that my son will get Medi-Cal, so that he can have care of his diabetes, his addiction and to help with his dental work. I pray for my son's physical pain in his tooth. Father, I pray that you will give my son the confidence to listen to my advice. You know what it is.

I also pray for my son's living situation. I pray that his friend "A" will come to admit that he is so heavily addicted to heroin, that he will want to be set free. Lord,I pray for A to get the help that he needs. I pray that you will shake his world in such a way, that his family and girlfriend will no longer enable his addiction. Show them the truth, Father. Yet, I thank you for showing my son a mirror image of what his behavior was--not that long ago. I pray that my son will continue to be repulsed and angry with A's out of control drug use.

I pray that you will help my son to know what he needs to do. Please, Father, give him the courage to make a change. Set him free of that lease and I pray you will find a place where he can live.

I also pray that my son will find a better job. I pray for his boss, that my son will not become bitter against the way he is being treated.

I pray that B's car can be fixed. He is feeling such despair at this.

Above all, Father, I pray that you will fill my son's heart with your presence. He feels so frustrated, and so discouraged. I pray that my son will put his trust in you, and not be in bondage to fear and worry. My son is under spiritual attack. I pray for your blessings to come into his life, and that he will find hope.

Thank you, God, that my son is not using drugs. I continue to place my hope and trust in you. I pray that you will give me a sense of calm, that my stress will no longer manifest in severe headaches.
I am under my own stress, but I continue to cry out to you to be my rock.
I pray that you will help me to become a Godly mother of courage.

I pray for those families who are feeling so helpless. I pray for addicts who feel hopeless.

You are our God of Hope. Thank you for your grace and mercy on my son, on me and in my marriage.
I pray for peace and clarity, in Jesus Name.
Amen.

Pulse Check. Yeah, I'm still here, just distracted....

2010-02-25T16:22:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I've written on this blog. I had a pulse check from Ron, to see if I'm okay. That means a lot.

Am I okay? Each day, I have to go through a routine to make sure that I don't slip into feeling discouraged. I have to many thing I wish I could share with "beginner" parents whose kids are drug addicts. There are days when it all feels so daunting.

My daily routine is one of praying every morning. My prayer varies, of course. But, in general, my prayers include:

Dear Father. Thank you that my son is alive today. I pray that you will bless my son, today, with an event that he will know comes from you. I pray that my son is becoming more aware of temptation, and that your Holy Spirit will help him to know that he is being tricked. Please, father, continue to sever friendships that lead him into temptation. I pray that my son will find a friend that you have sent into his life. I pray that you will give me wisdom to know what I should or should not do to help my son. I pray that my son will find a better job, and that he will learn how to manage his finances so that he doesn't worry so much. I lift up in prayer, A and R, who are in an abyss of drug use and addiction. Please, bring their darkness into your perfect light, that they might find sobriety. I pray this, in Jesus Name.

This is my morning and daily bread that I need.

How is my son? I feel so much sympathy for him. He is not making enough money to make ends meet. He tosses and turns at night. I admire that he still goes to work on time, and doesn't flake out. He is still having problems with his roommate, A. A is using drugs, and my son is angry about it. For that reason, A paid part of the rent, but not all of it. My son is in rent arrears. I cannot interfere. There's a reason why.

While my son is struggling, I pray he will find perseverance in never giving up. This is hard for him to do, I know. He's so young, and I think drugs were his escape from dealing with the struggles of life. I've come to realize that if I was to pay his rent, my son would not find the courage to change things.

I see improvement on my son's need for money. He no longer wants designer close and all those frilly things. He's got a pretty good attitude about it. He doesn't complain. He's gotten used to not having cable TV, nor video games. He reads and watches a few movies he owns, over and over again.

His car is in the repair shop again. It's a lemon. It's hard for him, but he never complains. I pick him up a couple times a week. He's always thankful.

My relationship with B has shifted to a new level. B is beginning to understand that he is no longer a child. He is very respectful to me. He doesn't cuss at me anymore, and he doesn't get mad. He doesn't ask me for money. The best part, is that I feel we are beginning to talk as adults, to one another.

I've changed, too. My anger is gone. When my son is down, he calls me. I try to encourage him, and he usually perks up. I feel as though he values my wisdom. I'm thrilled with this!

But-- that doesn't mean there aren't problems. There are plenty of them. Will my son be able to pay his rent in a few days? Will he figure out how to get rid of A and will a new roommate really work out?

I feel bad for my son. His life is definitely a struggle. No word, yet, if he will qualify for Medical. No work on food stamps. It takes time, which I told him. I pray he will get Medi-Cal insurance for his diabetes and to pay for his methadone. I can't believe I am saying this, but the methadone is working for my son. He says he has no desire to use at all! Consequently, he's disgusted with his friend/roommate who is using. I pray that the roommate will move on, and my son will find a way to get a roommate who isn't using. He says he has, so we shall see.

There are times when I catch myself worrying about my son. When I do, I go back into prayer mode. I have to be careful, because I didn't realize I was being impatient with my husband. I realized he seemed very quiet, and then it came out. I felt bad, and I realized that I must be suppressing my stress within and it manifested in wanting to be alone. I tend to do that, when I'm stressed. I'm married, so that's not the best thing to do.

So, there you have it. B called, and he sounds "down". It wears me out, sometimes, being the Cheerleader. I try not to worry about him.

He's alive. He wants to be sober. I thank God, each day, that he is not in jail or dead.

I'll try to pop in more often. I'm sorry, but I haven't checked in on anyone else's blog. I need to do that, and I'll try to do that this weekend.

I pray that my blogger friends are hanging in there. I need to rewind to where I got my momentum going-- trying to share my wisdom with others. I seem to have writer's block on that, though. It'll come back.

Discussion continued... and my son's mad dash against deadlines

2010-02-16T20:58:00.000-08:00

I just got home from work, and then my women's bible study. I have 30 minutes before I need to hit the sack, and start the work cycle all over again. I'm glad that my posting brought out such varying comments. I think this is good.

I want to print Tom's (Recovery Desk)follow up comment to my comment. For those of you who missed the post, it's one more post down. I think Tom understands where I am coming from. Here, just read it. Please:

I agree with Angelo that the behavior does not match self interest. Angelo has a logical theory. I was also wondering about the consistency between being scared/sick and not wanting to be alone, and falling asleep. Most people who are in withdrawal don't fall asleep --especially so soundly that they don't wake up until the next day.

But I didn't choose to focus on the use/non-use issue because 1) I don't know the truth of the situation; 2) it's not helpful for a parent to focus on the "are they using" play by play; and 3) whether or not he is using today is far less important than getting things in place so that he has a shot at a sustainable recovery.

This means making sure he has insurance in place.

Also, given the description of his chronic inability to focus or follow through, I have to wonder if there are mental health issues that are interfering with his ability to get his insurance in place without additional support.

This need not be a major mental health issue. We all have mental barriers to doing things we know we need to do and really want to do from time to time.

I would be embarrassed to tell you how much this was me when I was younger, and I have no addiction history or major mental health issues. I had maturing to do. I needed to gain confidence and experience. I had mental barriers that I had to age/experience past. I see this in other people every day.

A young person in early recovery is unlikely to be in the best position to function without additional support.

Millions of adult Americans without addiction or mental health issues fail to get health insurance for which they are eligible. They fail to get their bills paid on time and get a late payment fee. They bounce a check now and then because they didn't balance their checkbook. They fail to save for retirement. They fail to be financially prudent and they end up in bankruptcy.

Most of us have been there/done that (at least part of that).

I think it is reasonable and effective to offer concrete support in strategic ways to someone in early recovery if it means that they are more likely to succeed in recovery and in life over the long term.

I call it a good investment.

I fear I may be dangerously close to second guessing a parent's decision. And that is not my intention. I'm not trying to be critical. Just describe an alternative point of view based on personal and professional experience.

Debby, please accept my sincere apology if I am out of line at all. I have a lot of respect for you...or I wouldn't care to have this conversation with you.

I highlighted, in red, the comments I nodded my head in agreement. Absolutely! I don't think my son resorted to using heroin. Why? Because he had 75% of the money-- what he didn't have amounted to very little. If he used, it would all have been gone. What I believe my son did do-- I believe he bought methadone, on the street. Yep, that's what I think he did. It cost hi $30-40.00, I am guessing.

It is astounding, to me, how people can't set priorities. My son can't. He procrastinates-- he forgets, he gets distracted, or off on a totally different mission. He's rarely on time-- except for work. He races to work, waiting until the last second to make something to eat, then snarfs it in the car. I know this. His cellphone dies, because he forgets to charge it. He misses deadlines. He spaces out-- I've lost count on how many times he's said he'll call me right back-- two days later, I call him!

Addict or not-- he has few organizational skills. My husband says he was the same way, at his age. Dear Angelo-- don't forget that my son is 21 years ago-- but closer to about 17-18 years old in maturity.

I also agree that my son would not sleep soundly if he was using. Tom is absolutely correct. My son suffered from severe insomnia, when he was using. He'd be up all night long, pacing and antsy. My son sleeps a lot. He says methadone helps him to sleep better.

So, there you have it-- B is finally back on his recommended dose of methadone-- which was increased a little at a time. Right, To? I have to say, that I actually don't blame the methadone clinic. How many addicts must've lied about getting their payments in? At least, the methadone clinic didn't cut him off-cold! No, my son knew the policy but he thought he could fudge it. Uh-uh.

My son, as I see it-- is looking for healing in a pill. It was my dear blogger friend Cheri, who pointed out that nobody picked up that my post was based on my Christianity-- my faith in God. That was completely overlooked-- except for Cheri and Heather's Mom. I wish my son would return to his spiritual roots. He needs to pray, meditate and do some inner healing. It's okay, though-- I cannot expect everyone and anyone to belief what I do. At least, I'm not afraid to share my beliefs. Like "meetings" say-- take what you want, leave what you don't want.

I saw B tonight. He's feeling a little bit better. He says he is managing his blood sugars, because he loves the new glucose meter I bought him. He says that tomorrow he will go to apply for Medi-Cal and for food stamps. I'm thankful my son is alive, and he isn't smoking heroin. I mean that-- and maybe my son learned a very valuable lesson in life-- that taking care of his priorities are important. I seriously doubt he will ever blow off following the methadone's payment policy. I can almost guarantee it.

Thank you, Tom, Angelo, Cheri... and those of you I haven't personally named. I thank those of you who read my blog, but don't leave comments.

I feel that I need to continue keeping this blog going. I want to support others, and I thank all of you for your support. Yawn. It's bedtime.

You can't walk with God, if You're Holding Hands with the Devil

2010-02-15T09:53:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I've blogged-- let alone visited my Bloggie Friends. I got a bad cold, last weekend, and I'm still coughing and sniffling. But, life goes on.

What's up with my title, today? It was yesterday's message at church. We are doing a study on James 4, and I am loving it. I thought of my son, the whole time. So, how is my son?

That's the million dollar question. He's been really sick, too. I think we exchanged germs. B missed two days of work, because of it. His boss told him that if he didn't come back to work, he was fired. Nice boss, huh? It's the same one that fired him once before, then rehired him. How I wish my son could get a better job. In my humble opinion, I don't see him making a true effort to get a new job. Sure, he applies here and there-- but he doesn't find value in my advice to follow up with a phone call.

My son shows such classic symptoms of "ADD". No, he's never been tested. I'm aware that there are folks who believe "ADD" isn't a true diagnosis. I won't go into that, right now. It's just a hunch. My point is, that my son can't focus on one thing. Sadly, he's so darn intelligent! As a mom, watching from a distance, he is a professional procrastinator. He has no perseverence. He gives up, so easily.

My wonderful pastor, spoke on this and it really hit home. My son is living his life for one thing-- sobriety. This is a good thing, but I think he's missing the vital tools to find the strength and conviction to know what to do when (I didn't say "if") the need to use hits him. I believe, with 1001% percent of my heart, that my desire to follow God-- no, WALK WITH God is what keeps me moving forward. I have shared my testimony on how my faith has changed the person I once was. My son is holding hands with the devil.

Did you know that 87% of Christians see "The Devil" as a figure of speech, and don't believe his is real? I believe that there really is a Satan-- a fallen angel-- and I believe that he seeks to destroy us. Until my son has a revival in his heart (which he once had), his life will be filled with such sorrow and stress.

That's where B is right now. He didn't take care of his financial business, is all I will say. It meant that his methadone clinic began to dose his methadone down. B was feeling the first signs of withdrawal, this weekend. I could hear the panic in his voice.

What am I talking about? For any newcomers, my son is on methadone. He didn't make his payment on time, and on weekends the office staff is gone. So his dose got cut and he can feel it. The clinic explained this to me-- that if $350.00 a month is paid in full by the 10th of the month, they won't just cut off a patient. But, they'll begin the detox doses. It reaffirms my observation that my son is scared to death of withdrawals! How I pray that my son can find the courage to find sobriety without need of methadone. I know, I know... many of you have explained that methadone has/is saved/saving your lives. I get it. Sadly, if my son would have kept is promise to go and apply for Medi-Cal, most likely he wouldn't have to pay $350.00 a month. My son should get Medi-Cal since he lives below poverty level and he is a diabetic. Alas, he just doesn't get into the office to wait the long time that it takes-- that takes perseverance, and my son doesn't have it.

B called me, last night, saying he felt like shi*. He sounded worried and said he didn't want to be alone. He asked if he could come over, and I said yes. He never answered his phone. I am supposed to pick him up in 30 minutes, to take his car into the repair shop. He's not answering. He didn't answer his phone, last night.

What did I do? I prayed. I gave it to God. I cannot collapse or fret with worry. Maybe my son can learn the consequences of not taking care of responsibilities... maybe this is a wakeup call? I can only hope so. I tell you the truth-- prayer gave me a sense of calm. I didn't hit the panic button.

My son frets and worries and falls apart so easily. How I pray that my son would discover, that when we walk with God....trust God... talk to God, that he fills our heart with courage. "B, please focus on the solutions-- and not the problem" is my Mommy wisdom that seems to fall deaf on his ears. Come to think of it, I used to be like that at his age-- I seemed to fly into a tailspin at the first sign of problems. That was all "Before Jesus" in my own life-- which has only been about 15 years of my 54 years of age.

UPDATE: As I typed, my son called. He fell asleep. He's okay. He's feeling crappy, because his dose of methadone got decreased. The office is closed, due to the holiday.

My thoughts? Addiction is a crazy world. I cannot fully understand it. To the best of my non-addict mind, my son's world is held captive by the battle of his brain craving the drug it wants. The only thing my son can find comfort with is a chemical form of opiates to "trick" his brain and calm it down. How I pray that my son will be set free of that!

I love God with all of my heart. I have met so many Christians, who love God as I do. I have heard their stories of how God has comforted them through live events that are heartbreaking. If only my son could live each day, putting God first in his life. The devil is tempting my son. How I wish my son had just ONE Godly friend.

Enough said. I will continue on with my series of revamping my life as the Mother of a Drug Addict--from the beginning-- later on. Right now, I have some praying to do.

May God fill each person's heart with his presence. Lord, I pray that you will reveal yourselves to those who doubt you exist. I pray that those who blame you for the sorrows of this world, will realize that it's Satan's Evil handiwork. Fill my heart, Lord, with your Holy Power and Presence, that I will have the courage to face the trials and tribulations of life on Earth. I pray that you will take my fear and worries into your perfect and all-knowing Hands, and fill my heart with joy and hope. I pray for my son-- and so many other drug addicts and families of drug addicts-- that you will be their Higher Power... Yahweh, Father God in Heaven. Thank you for your grace and mercy. May those who believe in you, extend your grace and mercy on others.
Amen.

Another Mom Who Needs Support and Encouragement

2010-02-09T21:16:00.000-08:00

One of my biggest motivators I have in putting my person life and thoughts out in the open, is when I receive a comment or email, that leads me to someone's blog. This mom is hurting, and needs to feel encouragement. Please pay her a visit, and giver her some Blogger Love.

Her blog is "A Mom's Serious Blunder".

Early warning signs & beginning tips for parents of drug addicts.

2010-02-06T18:39:00.000-08:00

I'm going to skip back a few topics--to the beginning, where I began to discuss how I felt, when I first learned that my son was using drugs. Only this time, I'm remembering this 22 months later, from a totally different perspective.

I've had some interesting chats with parents of students, where I work. I'm still trying to hone down my story, in as short of a time span that I can. My job isn't to counsel, parents, but I can't help myself! I so wish I could share my story with them. I can already visualize so many of you nodding your heads. Yes, you do, too.

Over a year ago, I sat with with the high school principal, who is also my boss. I shut his door, and told him that I am the mother of a drug addict. I wanted M to know that I had a blog, and that he had permission to refer any parent to me. He offered me genuine sympathy (which wasn't what I was seeking). In short, M asked me a profound question-- he asked me what would I tell a parent who is in the early stages of discovery-- of the Big Evil Dark Secret. I thought very carefully... and it's hard to pinpoint what the best starting place is. So, I'm going to write down some key points:

Accept it. Yes, that's it. If your high school principal calls you, to tell you that your student was busted with drugs, don't blame the school.

Accept that no matter how seedy your kid's friend(s) are, they did not hog tie and for your kid to use drugs. YOUR kid made that choice!

Learn. My son had all kinds of concocted stories about the drugs he was using. I had no idea what oxycontin looked like. I had no idea what heroin looked like-- other than movies and photos of a syringe being plunged into a vein. There are countless blogs and websites on drugs. Read!

Trust your sources - use your common sense. Talk to people with common sense. Believe it or not, addicts who have been clean and sober for a long period of time (years) have been more than willing to educate me. Addicts, who are truly wanting to live a life of sobriety, want to help others from making their mistakes. Sometimes statistics and advice can be confusing... just read my comments!

Get on the same page as your child's other parent-- this is really tough. I know parents, who are living under the same roof-- who handle things differently. Your drug addict child, most likely, has learned how to manipulate. Parents need to be united. In my case, my son's father and I are divorced and lived in separate households. This was one of the biggest obstacles. My only advice is that YOU educate yourself, find support and learn how to set boundaries. That's what I had to do-- and it took a few years to reap the rewards.

Find support groups who understand drug addiction- This is so important! Al-Anon, Nar-Anon, CODA, Celebrate Recovery (church groups) have plenty of websites to help you find one of these groups. Try different groups-- more than once-- which is exactly what I did. If you've never been to one, please know that this is not an arena where people will tell you what to do. The format is that the meeting has specific guidelines, and they will review this at the beginning of each meeting. First names are only used-- just like on my blog. This is anonymous. One person speaks, at a time. Nobody else may speak. Nobody may offer advice. The format allows each person an opportunity to "share". You will discover that you are not alone. You will make friends. At the end of each meeting, you can have coffee and chat with those who stay. This is where you can have a personal conversation.

This format doesn't work for me-- and I say this, in all honesty. I am not saying that I don't like these groups. I am saying that I lack patience with people who speak for a long time. I have no patience for prattling (says she who writes long posts). I have an even worse time with people who whine about the same thing ,over and over again. I'm not giving up, and I will try a new Nar-Anon, that just started in my area. I live in a small community, where meetings are very scarce. I also want to say that I know plenty of people who love these kinds of meetings. It has saved their life. So, bottom line, please go-- try it, give it a chance, and I pray this is your answer.

If you can afford to see a licensed Marriage Family Therapist, who specializes in drug addiction, please go! My husband and I did this, and it was helpful. My son went, without us. Then all three of us got together. That didn't go well, because my son was lying and still using. The therapist knew it, too. I didn't like her, and didn't go back after a while. In retrospect, I didn't want to hear what she had to say. You see? It's very easy to become offended and you can easily have a mental meltdown at the stress of it all.

Most importantly, it does absolutely no good to yell at your kid, punish, threaten nor belittle them. I say this, because I've resorted to this. Odds are, your drug addict child, most likely feels like they are a worthless piece of doo-doo, as it is. I'm not saying that you need to do nothing! Of course, there are consequences and we can't enable our kid's addiction. At times, I felt like covering my ears with my hands, closing my eyes and yelling "na na na na" at the top of my voice. I've lost plenty of sleep and cried many tears of worry and sorrow.

Understand that, unless your own close friends and family are drug addicts or live with one-- they really won't know the right thing to say. Some will judge you, because they don't understand. Most of the judgment comes from ignorance. I not a perfect mom, but I tried to raise my son with Christian morals. Still, my son got hooked on drugs. What works for one addict, might not necessarily work for the other. Sobriety is hard work-- for the addict and for the parent.

If you can get your drug addict into a treatment program, that's awesome! By the grace of God, we had health insurance. It cost $36,000.00 for a 30-day treatment program. Our share of the cost was $3600.00. Yes, amen. When my son left rehab, my best friend let my son stay with them. "C" is in "the program" with many successful years of sobriety. God bless them, they let my son stay for one month, while we looked for an SLE (Sober Living Environment). The cost was $600.00 per month, plus food and expenses. It's not cheap. My son stayed clean for six months. He was totally pumped up, and so was I.

Pray. Ask people to pray. Spiritual Strength = Spiritual Fitness. You will need all the strength you can find to get through this. This ride goes on for a very long time-- years...even a lifetime.

It is so frustrating that families who cannot afford a treatment program are left feeling helpless. There are places that can be affordable, so don't give up! Teen Challenge America is one of them. Most "free" or "reduced" cost programs tend to be Christian based. If you don't want to do the "Jesus" thing, hopefully you can find a non-denominational place. Overall, most of these Christian programs don't force you to be a Christian. Ask.

I cannot stress enough, how crucial it is for you to be a safe place where you drug addict can come to. By that, you need to learn to listen. If your drug addict can begin to feel that you are listening, and you are wanting to understand, it's a step in the right direction. I attended four-hour classes on addiction, at my son's treatment center. I learned so much!

I will close for now-- and next talk about some of the worst case scenarios of living with with drug addict....from stealing to jail. I count my many blessings that my son never got arrested-- and believe me, he's had close calls. My son never resorted to stealing a LOT-- but he certainly conned me into giving him money, and he's dipped into $20.00 here and there. He's not Mother Theresa!

My son's treatment center told us that B had about a 3% chance of not relapsing. Opioids are a bitch of a habit to break. I will never fully understand what that's like. I do understand that the odds of my son relapsing again....still... over and over again... are very high. I've known addicts who were clean for 10 plus years, and they relapsed. Fortunately, the longer they stay clean and understand what to do if they relapse-- they usually clean up and move on.

One of the the biggest misunderstandings/misconceptions that I had so many months ago-- I thought my son would be "cured". By that, I figured he would go to meetings, get a sponsor and he'd make it. I pray that drug addiction/alcoholism can find a permanent cure. For now, we all hope that our addicts will find a treatment program that will help them to find an escape hatch-- when the overwhelming need to use comes knocking.

Drug addiction is a demon-- that waits to pounce, and tempt, and lie and steal.

It's the devil.

SIDE NOTE: It appears that the general consensus is that my son might do better to stay on methadone for an indefinite period of time. Know what? It's my son's decision to make. I have to step back, and let him find his way. I can never fully understand what he's going through.

How I cope with my son's addiction and a helpful comment

2010-02-05T06:47:00.000-08:00

I don't have a lot of time to write this morning, but I feel compelled to quickly type a response to the very passionate and emotional responses about my son's methadone treatment program:

As B's mom, I have accepted that I have no control over my son's addiction. My purpose in going to his methadone clinic was to ask questions and to learn. I received materials to read, which I will do over the weekend.

Some of you might have missed a few key points-- which I posted as comments yesterday. Once again:

My son doesn't use IV heroin. He freebases it.
The program his methadone clinic recommends is called a "Maintenance Program". It is a six month program. His counselor says this is a baseline, by the way. It might be sooner, it might be longer. It all depends on my son, really. If he eats healthier, exercise, it helps-- and I do believe this. There are so many variables.
The 21-day program is a detox program. It worked wonders for my son's former best friend. Overall, it's not the most ideal program. This is what my son originally wanted. Obviously, it wasn't what's happening.
They feel that, based on my son's young and tender age, and that his heroin use is not as severe as many of their clients, that their goal is not NOT have him on methadone for more than six months.
My son is taking between 38-40 mg of methadone, per day. It is dispensed to him, in liquid form.
The State of California has implented very strict guidelines is the dispensing of methadone-- unlike many other states. Any experts os MMT, please be aware of California State Law, before posting your expertise.
While my son shows some signs of withdrawals-- runny nose, in particular, he says he is not experiencing any desires to use.

My opinion? I'm still in the jury room. I need to read.

I need to go to work, but I wanted to post a comment that was left by someone I consider to be a true blogger friend-- and someone who I think is a very smart dad. I totally agree with Ron, in that I believe there is no cookie cutter answer to what works for addicts.

I have a lot of ground to cover, but I'm limited on time. I'm working on responding to so many topics that your comments have brought to my attention. Thank you for the lengthy comments you are leaving.

To Angelo-- I can read the passion in what you write. How I wish I could give you a hug, and fill your heart with calm. You write from the perspective of an addict who still has so much pain. I do read between the lines. I am not dismissing what you have to say-- but I must remain calm and use my common sense.

Bottom line-- it is my son's decision on how long he will do the methadone treatment. For now, I'm going to give the money, from his trust fund-- and that should just about empty it out. He's got about two months to figure out if he can get on medical (which will pay for it)-- and that would be good for his diabetes treatment he needs.

Every day, I live my life trusting in my faith and promises that God is with me. I have too many miracles and answered prayers to write in two minutes. I know, that he is real. For that very reason, I must remain calm. I can't panic. Panic produces knee jerk reactions.

Here's a comment that I hope none of you missed, it's from An Addict in Our Son's Bedroom:

With my limited expeieince and self taught knowledge about drug addiction the one thing I have learned for sure is: there is more than one way out of this morass. I am learning not to fault someone (my son) for doing it his way instead of my way. I have learned he got into this mess, only he can get out of this mess. He is not using meetings, he is not using suboxone, or methadone, not working steps, or doing really anything you read and hear needs to be done. In fact we had a discussion a couple of nights ago about his methodology for staying clean. He summed it up in these words, "Dad, I am just not going to do that again, can't you understand that?" I wish him well, but he is like his father in one sense, he is very strong willed and if he makes his mind up, that is it. Just like dad I guess. Now how long will those methods be effective? I don't know but it is working today. Today is all that counts. There was a time when I was at a point that my belief was if you aren't working a program you aren't really in recovery. I am not there now. I think I have grown in that I am not responsible for his recovery and if he relapses I am not responsible for that either. I am not "owning" his problem any more. Methadone, suboxone or whatever; what works for others is not a "one size fits all". I think it is individual. Compare it to someone with some other disabling disease that cripples ones legs through accident or disease, some never leave a wheelchair, some require crutches and some eventually walk again. Part of it is physiological and part of it may be psychological. It is up to the addict what they need and it seems to work only when they can really work the issue for themselves. In the past I questioned the recovery part of using one chemical to replace another chemical but now my mind is at a place of "what does it matter if it works". Just use the medical professions motto in deciding on the answers: do no harm.

Thursday, February 04, 2010

The methadone controvery is a big one!

2010-02-03T16:14:00.000-08:00

I wanted to clarify a few things about my son's current use of methadone:

I am not an expert on this drug, at all. Tomorrow morning, I am meeting with my son and his drug counselor at the methadone clinic. If I am going to agree to use the small amount of money, left in his trust fund, to fund this-- I want answers.
The clinic he is going to is reputable. It's run by a non-profit that I am very familiar with. Our school district contracts their counseling services, and I'm impressed with their counselors.
In order to take his daily "dose", my son has to take random UA's. So far, he's taken three.
My son is scared of methadone. He is fully aware of the dangers-- believe me, he's run the list down for me. His own counselor says that the maximum length of time my son should be on the program is six months. My son is going for three.
Once my son is off methadone, I am fully aware-- as is he, that he could be highly vulnerable to wanting to use.

Obviously, he doesn't want this. I am going to ask a lot of questions and take notes. I'll share what I learn.

In a perfect world--

My son would go to meetings, on a regular basis (he's sporadic).
B would not need any kind of prescription meds to deal with his insomnia, stress or opiate addiction.
My son could come home to live with us, and go to college and work part time.
B would use his outgoing personality skills to become a counselor, and to tell his story to others.

For those of you who wonder why my son can't come home to live with us--

One of the best things I did for B, was to make him move out. My son is beginning to appreciate what he had, by losing it. He doesn't have a comfy home with all the amenities. He cannot afford to go out and eat, buy clothes or have cable TV. His life is very humble, indeed. He's had to deal with bad roommates, and having his power cut off for not paying it on time.

My son is learning life skills.

As for his not living in our home-- there is peace again. The constant drama began to affect my marriage. I got to the point that every time I saw black smudges on door jams, I suspected it was black tar heroin residue. I found myself searching his pockets for foils; if I found them, it made me sick to my stomach.

With my son not living with me, I do not have to get sucked into his world of addiction. He is welcome to have dinner with us, or wash a load of laundry.

What I see as positives steps is that my son is working, and he's beginning to adjust to a life at poverty level. This is not easy, but I think this is very necessary.

Maybe, if my son can stay sober long enough-- and I see some responsibility... we can discuss his going to college and having a job.

Truthfully, I hope that my son will find sobriety and remain on his own. It's how our kids learn to mature, and I won't be tempted to fall into codependency and enabling him.

PERSONAL NOTE TO ANGELO: I have read your passionate comments about the dangers of methadone. I'm sorry that you've know many people who OD'd on it. Actually, I know plenty of success stories. Angelo, it's like any kind of therapy-- one must be responsible with it, know the dangers and risks, and then it's up to them to make the choice. Suboxone didn't work for him I think his heroin use had gone on too long, and was too much. So far, the boy that I know and love is beginning to return. I take it one day at a time.
'Nuff said.

Your thoughts?

Hindsight is 20/20 vision - Wheeling & Dealing

2010-02-02T16:20:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I spent a great deal of time with my son. It started with meeting him at McDonald's for a quick breakfast. Foodie that I am, I rarely eat fast food; there are days,though, when an Egg McMuffin just does the trick. My son ordered three of them, and a glass of orange juice-- and he ate them with relish. I nibbled on one of them, just taking in the presence of my son. His eyes look normal, and not the dull look he once had.

FLASHBACK: I am a single mother, trying to raise a seven year old boy on no alimony or child support. I was self-employed, and had a 2-year lease on my business site. Eating out was such a rare luxury for them, at that time. How times have changed, I thought to myself, as I paid the bill without blinking an eye.

Back to breakfast-- my son was really, hungry. We talked about anything and everything. I've noticed that conversation flows so much easier, now. Our relationship is better than it's ever been, but it's taken 8 years of drama to get where we are, today. Seeing my son, at that moment, fills my heart with so much gratitude and love for him. I feel as though my son is listening to me-- and that he values my opinions. I try not to give my opinions (of which I have many) unless he asks. I try to relate with him, and at how wreckless and irresponsible I was at his age. My son told me he was broke, because he didn't get much work. He showed me receipts that he paid to get his car fixed. He showed me his pay stub-- $400.00 for three weeks of work. Ouch. When it rains hard, there's no one using golf carts-- so he gets time off, without pay. He never asked me for money. He was sharing his financial dire straights with me, and I didn't feel any kind of manipulation. This is a new road we are on!

My son admitted to me that he is trying to be better in managing his blood sugars. The meter he is using is old and I told him I'd buy him a new one. I also decided to spend $50.00 on groceries for him-- just some basics and a few pantry ingredients he can use to make easy recipes. My son is too thin, and needs to eat healthier foods. My son is also earning how to cook, which makes me very happy! He was very grateful. When he got off work, at 5pm, he came to my house and off we headed to the shopping center. Using the dwindling trust fund he has, we bought about $100.00 worth of groceries and things he needed for his apartment. I could see my son pick something up, on impulse, think about it and then put it back. The same thing happened when shopping for clothes-- my son, who snubbed anything but designer clothes-- picked out a dress shirt, pants and the least expensive belt, on sale. I offered him a pair of dress shoes (knowing he didn't have any), and he picked out the cheapest pair he could find.

This is my son-- who used to have a closet stuffed full of designer clothes and a wide array of expensive shoes! This is my son who has bought and sold at least a half dozen different video game machines-- not to mention dozens of games, themselves! When I'd question where he got the items, I got answers ranging from "my dad bought them", so "I traded something for them" and even "I sold my video games". Big red flags, that I didn't know how to handle. Maybe, even, I didn't want the confrontation. Sound familiar?

Here's a hint to parents, whose kids suddenly come home with things you don't remember buying for them-- your son just might be selling drugs. I never imagined my son would resort to this, but he did. He's even admitted to me that there was a time he he remembers seeing me crying. I could not afford to pay my rent, and I had no idea how I would provide for my son and me. I was falling apart with fear and worry. B told me he felt bad, because he had a couple thousand dollars, in cash, stashed in his closet. He said he wanted to give me money, but he didn't know how to explain how he got it. Worse, he still expected an allowance from me!

In order to fund my son's growing addiction to oxycontin, he got involved in dealing in on a very large scale. My son was 16 years old, and had just gotten his license and a car. The car was paid for from his trust fund-- it cost $5000.00. By the way, my son kept his curfews. He always checked in with me. Drug Dealers are very crafty. I never even knew what my son was up to. He was very good at living a secret life. If I got too close to the truth, he'd become verbally combative. Sometimes the fights would escalate, I'd blow my cool and tell my son to leave... or to move in with his dad, if he was with me. HINDSIGHT: That's an addicts technique-- blow up, get angry and move attention away from the issue. If they can make YOU feel like you're the hysterical idiot, they won. They diverted getting busted. Listen to me! I know this!

I've mentioned before, that I work at a public high school. I hear the rumors, from faculty, that a certain student is suspected of drug dealing. Some get caught, others seem to slip away from being busted. What I notice is that their cellphone is always going off.

Parents-- Let me recap the clues that I didn't pick up on. My son confirms how much I missed-- and he got away with this for four years. He started selling weed, at the age of 13. He said, had I looked hard, I would have found the scale, the baggies and maybe even a stash of money.

If your student is failing school, wake up! Contact each teacher, and ask why their student is failing. If the teacher doesn't call back (or doesn't reply to emails), then contact your student's counselor. If you still don't get a response, then go to the principal. At my high school, parents get responded to.
If your high school (or middle school) has your student's grades online, be sure that you check the grades. I am appalled at how many parents don't bother to check, online! Our software program will even email a weekly progress report-- or daily, if you set it up that way. Ask!
Many high schools send automated "absence" calls. If possible, ask the attendance office to send the calls to your cellphone. Kids are known to intercept phone calls, and mail. Stay on top of it!
When you ask your kid why they aren't doing well in school, the odds are they will lie. My son always had an excuse-- "Oh, the teacher fixed that grade." "The teacher lost my homework, but he/she is fixing it". "The teacher hates me". "I lost my assignment". If your kid is using drugs, they are going to learn how to lie so convincingly that you will believe them. Keep looking, and hold your kid accountable.
Why does your kid need a cellphone? Check the bill! Remove texting, thank you very much. Texting is a secret world, in high schools. When staff confiscates a cellphone, students become hysterical. Admin reads the texts, and have discovered a lot of things this way. In looking back, my son was constantly on his cellphone. It was his "office". Had I looked, he had TONS of phone numbers. Take the cellphone away! They'll hate you for it, but it's a small start. It won't solve the problem, but why enable it?

I'll stop here, for today. There's so much more to cover-- like signs I missed that were clues that my son was high/using. The things I wish I hadn't said. The things that just didn't work. The tricks my son played on me that convinced he was clean-- and he wasn't. So much more to come...

To those of you parents who can relate to what I've written-- what clues did you miss? Please share them, in comments, so that we can help others who are so new to this Dark World.

NOTE: I received a comment from someone who wondered if my son is lying to me, and he's really using. Here's my honest answer-- there are no guarantees that my son isn't using and hiding it. Addicts are very clever. I do believe that my son is clean-- only because of methadone-- and because I see clear signs in the things my son says, the way he dresses, the gansta slang is gone, and the fact he has no friends. He's lonely. I cannot leave each day in fear. I leave each day in hope.

Genesis: From the Beginning - Discovery

2010-02-01T06:00:00.000-08:00

My son just turned 21, as I am writing this. When B was 17, on my wedding day to his soon-to-be-stepfather, I had no idea that my son was high. He was snorting oxycontin, and his habit had gotten really out of control. I found out, the day that we returned from our honeymoon. My son came to me, and said he needed to talk to me. He looked scared. I shut the door to our office, as I remember my son sitting on the futon couch.

"Mom, I have a problem".

He told me that he was using oxycontin and that he was in trouble. He owed some scary people money, and he was afraid.

I'll stop right here.

I had suspected that my son was spiraling into behavior that seemed very strange to me. My son was living at his father's house. B's grades were below a 1.0 GPA. This is a kid who is very intelligent, and could easily earn a 3.0. I never expected my son to have a 4.0. My son is a lot like I was in school. I just wasn't academically motivated, though I never thought I was stupid.

At last, my son was about to spill the beans and reveal the truth behind his erratic behavior.

What I most remember about that night, was thinking to myself "calm down". I calmly listened to my son's story. I didn't blow up. I didn't get angry. I'd been working on my anger management problem, after all! My son was so relieved that I didn't get mad. I gave him the $300.00 he needed and took it out of his trust account.

What I did from then is very much a blur. In looking back, I think I froze with not knowing what to do. My son said he would quit using oxycontin, and I believed him. I never took the time to learn about oxycontin. I never took the time to learn about drug addiction.

I was in denial.

My son continued to use oxycontin, sell oxycontin and he earned thousands of dollars doing it. Now that I look back, I see all of the signs that my son was living way beyond his means. His father had no clue, either.

Here's Classic Mistake #1 that I made-- I blamed his dad. I blamed me. I questioned my ability as a mother. I blamed his friends.

Here's what I know now-- Addiction takes hostages. It's not my fault that my son is an addict. It's not my ex's fault, ether. My son's friends played a role in this, but nobody forced my son to chop up a pain killer and snort it. My son made that choice.

My deepest regret is that I stayed ignorant about drug addiction for as long as I did. Ironically, I work at a high school-- in the counseling office, no less! I'm not a counselor, but I am an assistant-- and I talk to students all the time. I talk to parents all the time. Often times, I see kids being busted for drug possession and/or alcohol. I see the cops handcuffing the students and driving off with them. I know when they are suspended, and I often know the parents-- or I eventually do. More often, than not, these very parents behave just like I did. They believe what their kids tell them. They think it's been nipped in the bud. They blame the school, their friends, their exes. I offer them my story, and they don't take it.

My next installment-- my own wisdom on what to do, and to not do, when you find out your kid is using drugs. I have a question for you--

What did you do when you first found out that your loved one was using? If you're an addict, reading this-- if you finally told your parent, how did you do it. How did they react?

Until then-- thank you for reading. Please know that you can email me, privately, if you wish at: momsstory@gmail.com or please leave a comment.

Sunday morning peace and new directions, maybe even reverse

2010-01-31T08:25:00.000-08:00

Good morning,

I just noticed that I've only blogged four times during the month of January. Life goes on, and my son is still struggling to survive on a part-time job, with minimum wages and an expensive area to live in. But, he's alive. I haven't shared much about B, lately. There's a reason why I'm not blogging as often as I used to. I've been trying to work on letting go of trying to monitor or "coach" my son in how to take care of his responsibilities. Do I hear an Amen? I'm speaking from the view of a mother. Yes, ladies, I think we are wired to protect our young. It's just what we do. So, when one of our young turns out to be a drug addict, we are thrown into having to unlearn our gut instinct to protect our cubs.

That brings me to putting into writing what I've been hinting at, over the last few posts. What direction do I want this blog to go? It has been 22 months, since my son went into rehab-- for the first time. It's also the anniversary of my finding out the depth of my son's addiction-- for the very first time. Sometimes, it feels much longer. My blog has a lot of entries, and one day, I should re-read the beginning of my journey as the mother of a drug addict. That's when it hit me--

I have met so many of you, who have struggled with horrific stories of the devastation that drug addicts cause in families, and to themselves. Many of you are dealing with drug addicts who are in jail. Some of you are raising their children-- some of the kids even come from different dads. Many of you have been robbed blind by addicts. Most of us have invested a lot of money in rehabs, bail money, prescriptions. Darn near all of us struggle with learning how to define the line between enabling our addicts, and having to make the tough choice of building impenetrable boundary walls. We have learned to speak the "lingo" that can only be understood by those who are learning (or struggling) to accept the fact that our loved ones have an addiction that has no cure. It's a tough road, and it hurts a lot. Sadly, some of you sound so jaded... so beaten down... and you are the ones I pray for the most. I don't feel any kind of glee is knowing that your situation is worse than mine. I have to look at my own situation, and not compare it to yours-- or anyone else's. I am dealing with my own son--and learning things by stumbling around. Sometimes I've made choices that others tisk tisk. I can't allow that to discourage me, or make me feel unworthy. I'm learning, and with that I have begun a growing list of things I wish I had done differently-- things I wish I hadn't said-- and things that have worked.

I'm by, no means, an expert on addiction. Judging by some of the feedback I've received, via comments, there are some folks who have disagreed with how I handled things with my son. Then again, I've received encouragement -- and even private emails-- from people who tell me that something I wrote touched their hearts. It is for the latter group of people, that I am not going to abandon this blog. The direction I hope that my blog will go is in "reverse". Yes, that's right. I want to write from the point of view of that mother, who had no idea what oxycontin or black tar heroin was-- 22 months ago. I hope to be a voice of encouragement to parents who are very new to the world of drug addiction. What I don't want to do is to fall into my own personal trap of blogging when I'm angry or upset. Instead, I will lean on prayer between me and my Higher Power-- my God in heaven. I want be inspired to blog when I have been faced with a challenge, or even experienced a victory. I want to share how I got through it and maybe reach one person, who is feeling confused or needs encouragement-- and something I wrote is an answer to their prayer.

I want to be a place where people can feel encouraged, or to reignite a spark of hope.

I have received private emails from readers of my blog, who say that they are afraid to comment publicly. Now, why is that? I realized that it's because there are bloggers who have been through hell and back, and who have war stories to share about their ordeals. I respect these bloggers, but I wonder if they realize how intimidating it is for many people who read their comments. It's taken me a while to not take people's way of expressing their opinions personally.

For that reason, I've made a commitment to myself that I am going to write for me. I realized that I began to edit what I wrote-- for fear of being criticized. I realized that my own need to feel accepted by everyone was keeping me from blogging my honest feelings and thoughts. A week ago, I had an epiphany-- Debby, you are blogging because you have your own story to share. Debby, you cannot please everyone. Be a voice to people who are feeling hopeless, because God has given you the gift of encouragement. Do not let anyone influence what you say or write.

I will try to carve out more time, for this blog. I hope that I can rewind the way I write from a beginner's perspective. There are people who visit my blog, for the first time, and I am thinking that they have no idea where to start reading my story. I feel that way when I visit other blogs. Sometimes I read comments, cheering on someone's victory-- then I wonder...what happened? What I'm trying to say is that sometimes I find blogs are stories that go back so far, it's like opening up a 900 page novel and starting 3/4 of the way through it. Does that make sense?

It is my hope and prayer, that I will take time to log on to this blog at least every other day. Maybe some of you will smile at this-- I also hope to write brief paragraphs. It seems the less I blog, the longer my posts become. They're line a novella, aren't they? (Blushes and smiles).

How is my son? He's struggling to survive in a world of high unemployment. He's applying for a better job, with more hours, but he's not getting any offers. He tosses and turns at night, worrying about paying his rent and living on the poverty level. He's not using illegal drugs anymore. Of that, I am 99.9% certain. He's taking methadone, legally. He's very sick. The ravages of his out-of-control high blood sugars are affecting him, and the Type I diabetes has become almost as dangerous as his addiction to heroin. He's thin, lacking muscle tone. He has no medical insurance-- we can't afford it anymore. He is trying, so hard, to keep from feeling depressed. He has almost no friends, because he's breaking away from the people he used with. Another former friend of his recently died, from a drug overdose.

How am I? I try to focus each day on counting my blessings. Sometimes, in the early pre-dawn hours, I am jolted awake with a sense of worry for my son. I struggle not to cry about it. I talk to God, all the time. I battle against the sneaky emotion of fear-- because I need to focus on trusting God.

My son is a drug addict. He is trying to find sobriety. The methadone program will end in 3 months. My son wants to be sober, without any kind of legal drugs. My son's brain needs to heal.

I'm off to church, and B hopes to join us there. Otherwise, I will take him to buy some new dress clothes so he can continue on with job interviews. I'm praying that my son will be given a job, with a boss who will treat my son with kindness. If that new boss would be a God loving person, I would rejoice even more.

For those of you who have wanted to comment here, but you are too shy-- or feel too intimidated-- please receive this:

You are anonymous. This should be a support forum. We all have our opinions. One thing is for certain-- there is not one single "cookie cutter" solution that is universal. Our children are all individuals-- not one is the same. Please know that I invite your comments. I am going to put my comments on moderation, though. There are two reasons why--

#1 - I don't want people posting here, using my blog as a way to bring traffic or advertise they own sites. If I visit your site (or blog) and feel it is something very useful, I will add you to my blogroll. Otherwise, it's just not cool. If you are a drug company, I'll delete your advertising or SPAM.

#2 - Be nice. If someone leaves a comment that is written in the spirit of anger or insensitivity, I won't approve you. In 22 months, I've only done that twice. I'm not going to censor people's candor. You don't have to be a Christian to comment on my blog. I only ask that you respect my love of God. I simply won't publish profanity or attacks on my faith.

#3 - You might want to check back to when you leave a comment. I might just cut and paste a comment (or two) and give feedback to it.

Optimism, Forgiveness and a Victim no More!

2010-01-25T16:15:00.002-08:00

I've been doing a lot of thinking-- and praying-- since my last post. Fractal mom left a comment, in which a part of it said "for me, and maybe for others, i dont' know, i guess your optimism scares the willies out of me.". I didn't take this literally, of course, and while I felt a little put off-- it was very short-lived.

I was talking to my husband, and I want to share some thoughts on the direction that I hope is where God wants me to be. I also want to give a response to what Fractal mom wrote. Where to start, first?

This blog-- I don't want to give it up. I have to say that my initial idea to start this blog was inspired when I saw David Sheff on the Oprah Winfrey show. He had published the book "Beautiful Boy" (which I read). I remember Oprah asking his son (Obviously the person who was the addict in the book) what he thought of his dad's book. The son said that he didn't realize just how much hurt he had caused his loved ones. For whatever reason, that hit home with me. This blog will, when my son is ready, be something that I hope he will read. I hope he will try to understand the other side of addiction-- the pain, the worry and the tears-- that I have shed for him, and maybe even myself. For the record, B knows about my blog. He hasn't asked to read it, yet-- and I don't think he's ready. I'd like him to be sober for at least one year-- truly sober.

I have to say that I never expected to tap in to a family of fellow blogger that I have met via my blog. Many of you I know by name-- Heather's Mom, Chai Latte, Barbara, Ron, Lisa C, Madison, Lou, Fractal mom-- just to name a few. If your name isn't listed here, it doesn't mean that you don't matter to me. I want to know your story , but I'll be honest-- sometimes, I just don't have the time to read each person's blog. Sometimes, the stories are so unreal to me-- and I feel so sad. You've been a support system to me, and I thank you for you comments and encouragement.

So that brings me back to Fractal Mom (whose name I will leave out, out of respect for anonymity).

FM-- you have no idea how much I think of you and how much I pray for you. Thank you, for sharing your story with me, via private email. Your story broke my heart. I cannot fathom the depth of betrayal that you have been through with your daughter. I can only thank God that my son hasn't done the level of things to me, that have happened to you.

But, FM, I want to respond to your provocative comment about my optimism-- what you perceive as optimism, is what I know to be HOPE. I thought of you, all during my church service, yesterday. I feel so very blessed to have the kind of pastor that is at my church home. Pastor M doesn't preach. He teaches. He has a gift, and I take pages of notes. Rarely, do I ever leave church, not feeling as though his message spoke directly to my heart. It's quite the opposite, where I feel Pastor M has read my mind and my heart. I jotted a few notes down, FM, as I listened to his message called, "How to Control Your Anger".

I am not here to judge you, FM. I've never met you. You are dearly loved with fellow bloggers, I can tell. You want to share your life experience, and I think you don't mean any harm. You have told me that you are a Christian, so please allow me to speak to you as a Jesus Loving, Bible Believing, Far-from-perfect Christian-- I feel your anger and your pain by the way that you write. I pray, often, that you will be able to release your pain and your hatred towards what your daughter has put you through. I really mean that.

You see, I have every reason in the world to be one angry and unforgiving woman. My BFF reads my blog, and she would tell you that I'm telling the truth. I have been terribly hurt and been the victim of some of these things--

I have seen my father hold a knife over my mom's neck, while he pinned her head onto a cutting board. I was about 8 years old.
I have been thrown against walls, beaten with thick leather belts until I wet my pants.
My mother was a willful woman, with a short temper, who could cause great pain with a wooden cooking spoon or a long reed tool used to beat the dust out carpets.
At the age of 19, I married a man 13 years my senior. He openly cheated on me, telling me I was ugly, stupid and would never amount to anything. I stayed with him for 2 years, thinking I was unworthy of anything better. For years, I believed the cruel things he said about me, and my self-esteem was in the toilet. He ended up marrying my best friend, 7 months after I left him.
At 24, I met the man who is my son's father. For a while, the marriage was blissful. But, after 17 years, his passive-aggressive nature began to belittle me in front of my friends. I recently found old videos, where he is calling me dumb a** and saying hurtful things to me. How blind I was, that I didn't see my friends eyes looking down and how they felt sorry for me.

That man left me, for my employee and girlfriend. While I was at Disneyland with my son, his cousin and my brother-- he loaded up everything in the house and moved into an apartment. He cheated me out of our home. I unknowingly signed a Quit Claim deed (thinking we were refinancing our home). Less than one year later, I was thrown out of my home and he moved in with his girlfriend, and her family. My son would tell me all about the pool parties, and I'd cry alone at night. I felt so betrayed. My son was 7 years old. I received no alimony, no child support and I eeked by. I could not afford the attorey fees. Fortunately, at that time, I found Jesus. I tell people that God ripped the Cosmic Carpet right out from under me-- and he got my attention. I had become an angry and bitter woman. I lived a good life, financially. Little did I know my marriage was all a facade. He hid debts and money, and he was flat broke. Well, maybe. I suspect he had money hidden, but I will never know for sure.
Eventually, I had to file bankruptcy. . I was bitter, of course and missing my house that I was taken away from me.
Two years later, I had a Drive By Marriage. I don't want to get into details. Suffice it to say, he was a Con Man. He was an alcoholic, but naive me... I didn't know. The truth finally came out, when he got arrested. At that time, I was working to support three of us (son included), because he kept losing jobs. He left me $50,000 in debt-- mostly taxes. I paid it all back, but it took years.

About my son-- he was diagnosed with Type I Diabetes, when he was 10 years old. Now, he's a drug addict. In between that, B's father and I had different values in parenting. I cried a lot.

So, you see, while what I've been through cannot be compared apples to apples and oranges to oranges, I have a right to be angry and bitter. Or, do I?

By the Grace of God, I learned to forgive:

I learned to forgive both of my girlfriends, who betrayed me, and married my ex-husbands.
I didn't become a victim to my dire financial situation. I got a second job, and prayed and prayed-- 11 years later, I am debt-free, with some savings and a great husband.
I learned to forgive my father, and to make peace with him, for the beatings.
I learned to forgive my mother for her willful ways and to appreciate the life skills she taught me.

I have, truthfully, forgiven every single person who hurt me. I mean that. I believe that, like Job, God restored my life tenfold because I gave forgiveness. God healed my anger and I have peace. My husband loves me and accepts me for who I am. I told him everything, before he even proposed to me. He is an amazing person, who makes me very happy.

How did I do it--- learn to forgive? It was when I finally got this:

I am a believer in Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior. If Jesus suffered and died on the cross-- humiliated and beaten beyond recognition-- to die for ME,and for my sins-- then who I am I to not forgive those who hurt me.

Period. No ifs, ands or buts...

It was through that revelation, that I changed from being a victim, and blaming everyone else for my sorrows, that I became Victorious.

One more thing, I jotted down yesterday--

"Because I go to church, I don't think I'm a perfect Christian nor a better Christian. I go to church to become a BETTER person. I don't sit in church to be seen. I go there to LEARN. The more I learn to read the Word of God, the more I understand that God commands us to FORGIVE. Once I learned to forgive, my flames of anger were extinguished. I am a work in progress, and I'm no better than anyone else.

So, Fractal Mom-- and anyone else who reads this-- my optimism is really me trusting in God's promise that he will never forsake me. Fear = not trusting God.

It is so hard for non-believers to understand this. It took me 40+ years to get this.

I live each day in hope. When I am angry, I pray to God to help me to not go into a rage. When I am afraid, I pray for God to fill me with his presence. When I sin-- and I am weak, and I sin more often than I want to-- I ask God to forgive me.

I will never be perfect. But, I refuse to fall victim and to sing that long forgotten tune "Oh, Woe is me!" I hate that song. I thank God that through all of my trials & tribulations in life, that I have learned to be strong in faith. While my heart broke, when I first discovered the truth about my son's addiction-- I have a support system that keeps me moving forward with hope, and joy. I have wonderful friends, and family. #1 - I have God, my church and many prayers being sent for me and for my son. I am thankful for that.

I have learned so much about addiction, in 19 months. I am not stupid, and I know that my son could relapse at any moment. He could die. I could die. I could get hit by a car, or suffer a heart attack. My son might be killed in a way other than drugs. My son could even go the route of stealing from me, or jail, or...or...

I refuse to become a victim to my son's plight. I want to laugh. I want to love. I want to feel joy. Know what? I am happy.

The next time I post-- the direction I pray my blog will go. I've prattled long enough.

James 1 (New King James Version)

2 My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, 3 knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. 4 But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing. 5 If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. 6 But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind. 7 For let not that man suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; 8 he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.

Friday quick update

2010-01-22T13:37:00.000-08:00

I type an average of 80WPM and I probably think twice as fast-- so I am going to attempt to keep this short. Ha!I haven't blogged in a week, but I think it's important for me to keep journaling my thoughts and my son's progress with his addiction:

B is clean, only because of methadone. He says he feels "great". He says the methadone helps him to sleep better and feel better. He says he has absolutely no desire to use. Praise God.

I haven't talked to B since Wednesday-- and that's because I am trying to leave him to his own devices. That is, I'm trying to not set myself up for "Mommy Mode". You women know the drill-- Did you call so-and-so... Did you take care of such-and-such?   My son has some things to take care of, and I need to let it go. There's one baby step forward, for me!

B's roommate is using heroin again-- freebasing it. B is disgusted with it, and keeps saying that he wishes A would hit bottom.   Then we both look at each other, and I say "sound familiar"? He nods and agrees that he now sounds like me.

B will go in on Tuesday for tests to see if he really has Hepatitis-C. We will go forward, from there, based on the results.

So, you see, I am in suspended animation. That's why I haven't been blogging. In some ways, that troubles me-- I have put so much heart and soul into this blog. That's why I invested in redesigning it. Ultimately, I hope that my blog will reach out and touch others. I've noticed that many of the people I grew to know, via this blog, have stopped leaving comments. Some of you still do, and I thank you.   I try not to take that personally-- I think I've been so scarce, that I'm not so much on the radar with fellow bloggers who also have a loved one.

So, I ponder-- what direction do I want this blog to go? Maybe I should carve out time --which lately I've had so little of-- to write about what I've learned in the last 21 months-- when I first learn about my son's addiction. I hope and pray, that I won't suddenly find myself with a need to blog every day. I remember those days well-- when my son's addiction was so out of control, I could not find peace.

My son's addiction, at this moment, is a sleeping giant. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh. This weekend, I will try and pop in to the blogs on my blogroll. I feel so out of it-- not knowing what's going on in your lives. I'm sorry for that. I guess I'm trying to not focus on the the demon that still calls my son's name.

Later,

Health issues for my son - is it Hepatitis C?

2010-01-15T11:33:00.000-08:00

I am so thankful that it's Friday. Seriously. Work has been hectic and stressful. On top of that, I've been deeply affected by the plight of Haiti. I can't bring myself to blog any photos of recipes I've made (on my "other" blog) because the dichotomy is too strong. That is, I have so much and these people had so little...and they have even less than nothing.

I digress. My son. I've been very quiet on my blog. I think my silence is more a reflection of my desire to go on with my life. My son has been moved out of our home for almost five months. I've adjusted to his being gone. I no longer feel that his room is empty. I feel as though it's been morphed into a guest bedroom, and (I admit) that I don't have to put away my ironing board any longer. The cats have taken over B's bed, enjoying the window view while C and I are away at work.

I talk to B all the time. We really have gotten closer. So, how is B? He's eeking by. He still goes to work, because he feels the urgency to be able to pay his rent. This is a good thing. If my son was using, he wouldn't be able to pay his rent. I still help him out with some bare necessities-- milk, bread etc. He comes to wash his laundry, which is fine with me. It gives us time to be together. He has a home cooked meal, and sometimes I send him home with care packages of food I've cooked. He is very, very thankful.

I've seen a change in my son, that is encouraging. He has eyeglasses. It turns out he has 20-70 vision-- most likely attributed to his poor care of his Type I diabetes. While the eye doctor lectured my son on why he needs to better manage his diabetes, I could see my son's resistance. It has been an ten year battle for my son to accept that he has this disease. Even, today, my son is angry that he has diabetes.

All of the blathering is leading up to today-- my son took a UA and he met with the doctor (at the Methadone Clinic). The doctor suspects he might have Hepatitis C, because his liver count isn't good. B called me, freaking out-- which, of course, made my adrenalin flow. B says the doctor attributes Hep C could be from his snorting oxycontin, or it could be from not managing his diabetes.

I am trying not to panic. I've googled Hep C and have read that it's not necessarily fatal, and potential curable. I need to get him in for a test to confirm if this is so. In case you're wondering-- my son has never done IV drugs. Ironically, it grosses him out at the thought of injecting something in his veins-- though he uses needles to inject insulin. Unfortunately, my son "forgets" to take insulin and rarely tests his blood sugar.

So, there you have it. One more issue for me to take seriously. Obviously, I want to find out correct medical information.

As far as methadone goes-- I have to say that my son is doing really well. B says that he is so glad he's on methadone. He says he has no desire to use opiates. He is sleeping again. He's gaining weight. I am going to meet with his counselor (whom B really likes a lot) at the methadone clinic. B would like to extend the program for one more month. I won't get into the lengthy details, but it might be a good thing to give my son another 30 days.

B is still struggling to make ends meet. His roommate might be moving out, so he worries about finding a roommate.

My words of encouragement are probably hollow for my son-- I tell him that when these things happen, that it's not necessarily a bad thing. I tell him that God might be shutting doors, so he'll finally walk into one that is God's plan for him. Even the Hep-C scare... maybe this is a wake up call to manage his diabetes! My son is so rattled, that he says he needs to take better care of himself.

I haven't visited your blogs, and I am sorry. With my busy work schedule, and my church groups I just haven't had much time. I continue to pray for you-- my son's drug addiction isn't over. For now, I thank God, that my son is alive, arrest-free and I am so thankful for my abundant blessings.

I adore my son, and I continue to hope that he will continue to stay clean.

Breaking my Silence and Waiting to Exhale...

2010-01-08T16:13:00.000-08:00

It's interesting how I was reflecting on this very blog, this very morning. Most of you don't know that I have another blog-- they are in two different worlds. My "other" blog is a recipe and cooking blog. Cooking/baking and food photography has become my newest hobby-- now that my horse is too old to be ridden. We (my horse) and I have developed arthritis in both knees, so I've literally put my saddle into storage. I find therapeutic value in the kitchen, you see. If I am feeling stressed about something, I find a sense of "release" if I start chopping things. Maybe there's something symbolic in that-- I'd rather lop the top off a piece of fennel, rather than someone I'm not very happy with. I sometimes put on my iPod, turn on an audio book and become lost in cooking for a few hours-- inventing recipes and freezing some meals for later on. It isn't so much the act of eating that helps to ease my stress-- if it was, I'd be featured on "The Biggest Loser". I think it's more that my end result of cooking or baking something (and I rarely make the same thing, twice) gives me a sense of accomplishment-- that I learned to make something, from scratch, for the first time. I feel pleased that I succeeded. The biggest bonus for me, though, is seeing a look of sheer enjoyment from my loved ones. My husband appreciates my efforts, as does my son. I'm also learning how to take better photographs, and learning how to use photo editing software. I've met some wonderful food bloggers, who are unaware of this blog. I have separated both identities, and I like it this way. Maybe I've evolved into a foodie/mother of a drug addict Jekyll and Hyde?

What does this have to do with this blog? I haven't been on it, for a while. Truthfully, I think I just needed to take a break from giving so much energy to my son and all of the problems his addiction has brought into my personal life-- and my marriage. I'm sorry if I seem selfish, because I truly do care about so many of my blogger friends who have been burdened with the heartache of having a loved one who is addicted to drugs and/or alcohol. I think that I needed to step back, for a while. I think of you, and I pray for you. It's true.

It's worked pretty well, and that's a good thing. During my two weeks of our school winter break, I kept a low profile. My Christmas tree finally went up on December 22nd. I only used 25% of my abundant collection of ornaments. I just couldn't get into it-- and I can't really pinpoint why. I love Christmas, but it's a religious holiday for me. Maybe it's the commercialism that I seem to have been resisting. I never got around to sending Christmas cards. I didn't bake any Christmas cookies. Christmas shopping was easy-- I bought my son things he needed...like new shoes and underwear. I asked my husband to agree that we not exchange gifts. I feel like everyday is Christmas with my husband. Instead, we gave to the homeless. It's what Christmas is all about, to me. Giving. Not receiving.

Our Christmas Eve celebration (I'm not into Christmas Day at all) was lovely. My son ended up joining us in church, and we had a nice dinner. My son was sober, Praise God! I planned on his spending the night, so I wouldn't worry about him drinking and driving. He hardly drinks at all, but since he just turned 21 I can understand that he wants the thrill of ordering a drink-- and being "carded". He slept in, showered and then headed off to work. Yep. Golf Courses don't close on Christmas Day.

B has been flying "off the radar" with me. That translates to, all appears quiet. He's on the methadone program. He's taking 40mg a day, which I found out is a very low dosage. He loves his counselor. My son is working again, as I last reported. He is eeking by. I invite him to have dinner with us. The way I cook-- fresh, frugal and plentiful, it's never a problem.

I'm making baby steps forward in not enabling my son. I had a weak moment, where my son called to say that he's "starving". My immediate reaction was to bring him a hot meal. My rationale was that my son is diabetic, and he needs to eat carbs to keep his blood sugars from plunging. My husband called me on it. I sat back and realized my husband is right. It's unfortunate that my son has a disease where his pancreas doesn't produce insulin-- Type I. "You're right", I admitted. I didn't bring my son food, and B never called back whining. My son needs to learn to get up earlier, pack a lunch and not call Mom-To-The-Rescue.

B and I are slowly working on breaking our codependence.

There hasn't been any huge drama. There have been hiccups along the way. My son has called me for advice, which I am happy to oblige with. Whether or not he takes it is up to him.

So, back to this morning-- I was thanking God that my son is still alive, arrest-free and isn't using. That's huge. I'm going to meet with my son, tonight, to help him fine tune his budget (he has learned some things).

Then, my son just called. His roommate got fired. He was busted smoking heroin on the job. I don't know the details, and it wasn't an arrest. His boss suspected A wasn't acting right. I would guess that they found foil, maybe? I don't know. It's not my problem. It just makes me sad for A. He needs help. Maybe this is it.

Damn.

This is "A", who moved in six weeks ago. Nice kid. He had been sober for a long time, but relapsed. Truly, he's not a criminal. Just a kid from a lot of dysfunction, who got lost. Sound familiar?

The irony is that my son has been begging him to quit using.So when B called to tell me what happened, he sounded exactly like me! He kept saying that God is making A hit his bottom. He was angry that he warned A that he needed to quit-- that this would cost him his job.

So, B is back to square one. He needs to find a new roommate. Unless A gets another job. A needs detox, I know. But, who am I to say?

Only this time, I'm not going to worry about it. I can only listen and pray. That's it. This is between my son and his roommate.

At least this roommate doesn't have a gun, or ties to gangs. A is mellow. I had no idea he had gone down this road.

I can only hope that my son is seeing a mirror image of what he put so many people through, by watching A's predicament. I listened to my son complaining about drug addict behavior. At one point, I started chuckling.

B asked what was so funny.

"You sound like me", I said.

"Yeah, you're right". I could hear him chuckling in agreement.

God works in very mysterious ways. He sometimes uses people to reach others, this way.

Is all of this God's way of showing my son where he was headed?

I want to be sure to look for the positives, whenever I post. What I am seeing in my son is a snippet of maturity. He still frustrates me with his lack of follow-through and punctuality. But, compared to a lot of the young adults his age, he's pretty much "typical". Now that he's living on his own-- without all the comforts that he's used to, I am seeing him gaining a new appreciation for what he had. He's showing a little more responsiblity with money.

I also find it amusing that my son is proud of his cooking achievements. He's learning how to cook, frugally. He's realized that eating out is out of his financial reach. Sometimes he calls me for recipe ideas. Do I see a future chef?

Most importantly, I am 99.9% convinced that he does not want to use. Is methadone going to do it for him? I can't answer that.

All I know is that, right now, my son seems to be "himself". It's so nice to not fear finding those ugly foils in his pants pockets (when he does laundry at our house), in his car or anywhere else. I don't see the black smudge prints on door jams (from heroin), the tell-tale yellow, green or blue stains on his t-shirts (from rubbing off the time-release coating on oxy pills). My son has energy again, an appetite and he seems happy.

One day at a time... I walk in faith and hope.

Goodbye 2009, Hello Promises of 2010

2009-12-31T21:05:00.000-08:00

Click here to get more Cute Surprises

My husband and I are laughing at ourselves. It's 8:30pm on New Year's Eve. We both went swimming (one of the good things of living in California), and took a jacuzzi together, late this afternoon. I had plans to make a fancy dinner to enjoy at home. Out of character, for me, I opted to make a nice sandwich and two cold beers, rather than scurrying about in the kitchen. Now, we're both in our pajamas with his and her laptops. Wow! We're really living it up!

I had a bit of a temper meltdown, this morning. It had something to do with my son, and his inability to get information accurately. I won't get into the details, because I've worked through it. As I drove into town, alone, it gave me time to calm down. I began to focus on the new calves in the green pastures along the highway between our home and 20 miles to downtown. I hope to work on not letting my buttons be pushed to the point that I get really worked up about it. By counting my blessings, out loud, I could feel my anger dissipate and I was able to enjoy the rest of today-- the last day of 2009.

2009 has been an interesting year. Most of it was all about B. It was a year of giving my son so many chances to stay sober. As I reviewed most of my blogs, I could read the hope I had for him. I blogged with so much enthusiasm-- desperately hoping that my son was going to be able to keep away from drugs.

Sadly, my son was asked to move out at the end of August. When I review a lot of my blog entries, I see so much drama. The longest my son could stay sober, averaged 5 days. I lost track of how many times he relapsed.

Within the last couple of weeks, things have quieted down with my son. That doesn't mean that all is well. I think that I've limited how much I'm going to publicly share about our personal lives. I'm limiting how much time I will spend on this blog-- as well as my "other" food blog. I was spending to much time blogging, and my husband deserves my attention a lot more.

B has taken baby steps forward, and he's been knocked back by many miles. It's been a roller coaster ride, for sure!

As of today, here is an update on my son:
He has his car back, and it's insured and all legitimate. This is possible, because of his small trust fund that I oversee. I can only pray that his car will be a tool to find a better paying job... I won't allow myself to think negative thoughts on how the car could be used. I can only pray that is all in my son's past. No further comment.

My son got his job back, two weeks ago. He went in for his final paycheck (another labor law broken, as a final check is due within 72 hours of being fired) a week after he got fired. His boss asked him to come back.
. Go figure. It's a blessing, in that B is able to pay his rent, have a little money for food, and afford the car insurance. I found a good rate for him through our state automobile association. It's his own policy, and I'm not on it.

B is legally on methadone. He really likes his counselor a lot. My son signed a release so that I could go in, directly, to pay for it. The money comes from his trust account, not my wallet. They women, who work in the office, love him. I used to hearing that, because he is very friendly and likable.

B's roommate is working out, so far. B seems to like his apartment again.

My son is struggling, to make ends meet. He's always broke. I do believe, that because of the methadone, that he is no longer using heroin. I almost see the son that I knew back.

I get frustrated with his inability to manage his life. He still struggles with being punctual (except for work). He still doesn't follow through on things that need to be done. He still doesn't manage his diabetes well, but I can only hope he'll start to take better care of himself.

I try to understand that, a struggling addict like my son, can only focus on one thing at a time. My son is struggling to find a way to be free of using drugs. For the record, I wish my son could endure the pain of withdrawals so that he can clean his body of the poison he's used for five years. The reality is, my son cannot bear the thought of it. He is not ready, and I have accepted that there is nothing I can say or do to change that.

What I have seen is a closeness between my son and me, that was never there before. I have learned to make peace with my son's disease. I have reached a point, in my life, where I am seeing a 6'3 young man of 21 years. I'm beginning to find the strength to let go-- in that, I have adjusted to his not living with me anymore. I can sense that my son is very happy living on his own. I see a few snippets of maturity in my son. By that, he is finally appreciating all the creature comforts that he had in our home. He no longer has cable television, video games, a fully stocked kitchen nor a quiet house to life in. He's learning what it's like to have noisy neighbors, no food watching BBC television-- because it's the only channel that comes in, without cable.

B did join us for Christmas Eve church service and dinner. He was sweet and very gracious. He received grocery store gift cards, and some clothing. He was very grateful for it.

B couldn't buy us gifts. I didn't mind, at all. I've reached a point in my life, where Christmas gifts aren't important to me. I told my son, that the greatest gift he could give me would be to spend Christmas 2010 with one year of sobriety. I would be so happy if my son found a job that he enjoyed and did well-- that he would remain debt-free, drug free and that he was safe and had a clean criminal record.

I am three hours away from getting used to writing "2010" on my checks. I pray that the coming year will be filled with more victories in the fight against addiction.

I pray that I will continue to be supportive of my son, without enabling him. I pray for all of you who read my blog. Thank you, for a year of support and encouragement.

May this be a year of victories for all of us!

Sleep in Heavenly Peace, "Sister Kelly"

2009-12-28T16:46:00.000-08:00

C and I are on vacation until January 4th. For only that reason, I am taking a blogging break. I received a very sad phone call yesterday, and I wanted to write down my thoughts--

I met "Kelly" last September in my bible study group. I'm so blessed to have the kind of women's ministry that I do-- in our large group of at least 100 women, we break down into tables of 8-10 women. We come from all walks of life-- realtors, school employees, secretaries and those who are unemployed and down in their luck. That was "Sister" Kelly. Kelly was attending her very first bible study ever. I remember, someone from the church, offering her a free bible. "No," she said. "I want my own".

I observe people, and I watched Kelly with mild curiosity. She had that look of someone who has seen hard times. 15 years as an Esthetician (licensed skincare specialist), taught me how to recognize signs of smoking, alcohol and drug use. I pegged her somewhere in her late 30's to late 40's-- possibly 50, but that was a stretch. She had a "hard" look on her face, and I think she felt overwhelmed about the whole "bible thing". Still, I could see a "Jesus Spark" in her. I could tell that she was seeking to know the whole God thing.

The next week, Kelly showed up with her new bible-- with the cute index markers that I have on mine-- that helps me to find Mathew or James or Leviticus in a hurry. She began to open up, as all of us do during these wonderful times together. A bible study group is a time of sharing our lives. It's a time of reading scripture and then sharing how this may or may not apply to our lives. I began to see laughter in Kelly's face-- I also saw tears being shed, as I've done many times.

Then, Kelly opened up to all of us-- she told us how she was 4 1/2 years clean from meth. She shared with the group the pain of how her family has cut her off....and how her eleven year old son lives with his grandfather and stepgrandmother. Kelly asked us to pray for Parker, and that she would be allowed to see him again. Pray for Kelly we did, indeed. I cannot understand why children are the innocent victims.

In late November, I shared with the group about my son. All of it. I was surprised how two women told me they had been through kids with drug problems-- all heroin. Nobody judged me. I told Kelly I was hoping to take my son to Celebrate Recovery. She beamed, and said she hoped to see us.

The next night, B and I walked into CR. There was Kelly-- beaming and motioning us over. As I sat next to her, she had tears in her eyes and said "I'm so happy you are here". "Me, too", I said. At "coffee", Kelly told us how meth had destroyed her life. She said that she once had a house, savings, a loyal clientele (she was a hairdresser) and life was good. Then meth came into her life. I never asked how and why-- she never shared how and why". She looked at my son, and I could see that B wasn't into hearing the rest of her story. (B says he doesn't like to hear 'war stories'). I do, only because I think people find healing in sharing their stories. I think B doesn't want to hear it, because it's too real-- that's just my take on it. I could be wrong.

On December 5th, I went to the Women's Ministry Christmas Party. I didn't really want to go, because I was tired. I had to deliver a cake I donated for the auction, and I saw all the hard work and decorations that dedicated women had done. It was beautiful! So, I decided to go, even though I didn't have a girlfriend to accompany me-- figuring I'd sit anywhere and just try to fit in. Truth be told, I can be a little shy in a large group of strangers. In short time, I realized that nobody was a stranger-- though there were several hundred women! We are all Sisters in Christ! In walked Kelly, all alone. I immediately invited her to sit next to me. We laughed and shared in some ice breaker games. We went into the buffet area, where there were chocolate fountains-- six of them! I don't like chocolate all that much, except for white chocolate. I spotted an abandoned white chocolate fountain, and saw pineapple chunks! Bingo! Kelly looked at me, not sure what to do. I showed her how to dip it and then I popped this tasty morsel into my mouth. She copied me. Her eyes grew big, and she smiled.

I will, forever, remember that moment-- two women, indulging in one of my favorite treats of all time. We giggled. We laughed, as the line for dark chocolate snaked around the room. We felt victorious that we found our private chocolate fountain-- and she told me about her car accident, just the week before. I had noticed she was wearing a neck collar. Kelly said that she must have had a seizure-- she blacked out, hit a telephone pole and totaled her SUV. She said the cops arrested her, but she tested clean for alcohol. She was prescribed pain pills, and she said she still hurt quite a bit. She couldn't remember what kind, when I asked. "N-something", she said.

"Norco?", I offered.

"Yeah, Norcos!".

Oh, Lord. That's how my son got introduced to opiates. I warned her to be very careful of that.

As the night wore on, we enjoyed the Christmas concert we sang Christmas Carols". We both started to yawn, and hugged goodbye.

I thought to myself, "I should invite Kelly to lunch". She seemed such a lonely person...with a lot of pain in her life.

Kelly died 12 days later, this December 17th. It is said that she mixed her antidepressants with her pain pills and never woke up again.

Kelly was 41 years old. She touched my life, even if just for a few months.

When another woman, from my group, called me (crying), I said "let's pray". I could hear "L" crying, but I felt such joy and relief that Kelly is in such a better place. She beat me there! My thoughts are with her son, now. Will he remember her? Has his heart been poisoned by the family who cannot forgive her? Do they know the pain and torment this caused Kelly?

Only a true believer in the promises of Jesus, can understand why I feel that Kelly has been released from her pain and suffering. She truly is in the bosom of our Lord Jesus. She is Home. I'm so thankful that Kelly found the Lord, if only a few months ago. It was a Christian friend who encouraged Kelly to check out Celebrate Recovery and to join her first bible study group. Her friend said that Kelly said "the prayer", that is so simple to say-- that will set us free, and guarantee that we will be in heaven, at the hour of our death.

Lord, Jesus. I accept you as my Lord and Savior. I believe that you are the son of God. Please forgive me for all of my sins. Thank you for dying on the cross, that I may be forgiven and washed clean of my past. I ask that you come into my heart, and into my life, right now that I may have eternal life with you. Amen.

I've heard so many versions of this prayers-- some so eloquent, they still make me weep. This is my own very simple and humble prayer. I prayed that prayer 13 years ago, and I have never looked back at my past life as an unbeliever. I am still a sinner, but I am a new person. I seek to be obedient to God, knowing that I need to seek to understand my purpose in life-- to worship and follow God.

Have you said that prayer?

I know that I will see Kelly again. I will always remember her. I pray for her son, Parker, that he will one day know how much she loved him and missed him. I pray for her family, who hated her so much that they cut her off from seeing her own flesh and blood. Sadly, there will be no service for Kelly. Her family withheld telling anyone of her death, for at least a week. How very sad.

Because of Jesus' birth, death at the cross, and resurrection-- we are living in grace. Grace is giving forgiveness to those who don't deserve it. God has given me grace. I know I don't deserve it! But that's the depth of his love for everyone of us.

I'm so thankful that Kelly found that. She is pain-free, drug-free and I will see her again.

I know this.

Peace on Earth, and in our hearts, I Pray

2009-12-21T09:34:00.000-08:00

Heavenly Father,

I am praying for my son, at this very moment. It seems that so many roadblocks have been set before my son. I pray that this is all part of your Divine plan. Father, you know the struggles that my son is facing. Father, you know what is going on-- at this very moment-- where my son needs a miracle. I thank you, God, for the abundant grace and mercy you've given to my son. Thank you, God, that today I am on vacation. My son and I have things to take care of. I pray that you will fill my heart with Godly wisdom, at this very moment. Help me to know what things I can and cannot do to help him. I pray that you will use me as your conduit to do your work in his life. I pray that you will help me to accept the things that I have no control over. I pray that my son will cry out to you, Lord-- and not hear the voice of darkness that brings him down.
I pray for my son's health, and that you will fill him with the courage that he needs to deal with the physical agony of his withdrawals.

Father, I am asking that you will bring peace and calm to the soul of a mother, who is agonizing over her son's pain.

Christmas is a difficult time for so many families. I pray that those who are in need of a miracle, that only you can do, will feel your power and presence.

I pray for joy, today, in my son's heart. Thank you, Fahter, that you hear our prayers. I pray for my blogger friends who are dealing with their own struggles-- that you will fill their hearts with encouragement and hope.

I pray that you will set my son free of the bondage of addiction.

Amen.

Taking deep breaths...

2009-12-15T21:21:00.000-08:00

48 hours, and no dramas. All is quiet on the Western Front.

Seriously, I am focusing on my work, coming home, cooking dinner and having about one hour of rest before going to bed. I haven't watch TV in almost a week.

I've talked to B, but there's been no drama. He's looking for a job. He has a new roommate, "A". I've known "A" for many years. I like "A", but-- I am assuming A uses, or has used. A was at my home two nights ago, when he brought B to our home to pick up some insulin. I looked right at A and my son and said, "you two are either going to be one another's undoing-- or, I pray, you two will stay sober together.

I do not think my son is in danger. It's just a feeling. I think he's laying very low and I pray that he is finally free of the crazy people who were in their life. They are all in rehab, to avoid jail time.

That's all I have to say. I still don't have one Christmas decoration unpacked. Three more days, and I'm on my two week Winter Break vacation.

I pray, every morning, for all of us-- we family of bloggers. Every morning, without fail... I pray for the Alex's and Keven's and so many of you.

I'm literally taking each day, one day at a time-- in faith and in prayer.

I am trying to breath, and not allow my son's crazy life to become my own.

Thank you, for you private emails and support. I'm sorry I haven't answered back. This early darkness is giving me the blues. Speaking of...it's past my bedtime!