No News is Good News

Or in other words… absence of information to the contrary justifies continued optimism.

However you decided to word it; I have yet to hear anything from my son who now resides in a 15 month voluntary Drug Rehab program.  He left Monday afternoon on a Greyhound Bus out of Boston headed for Vermont.  The first 30 days of the program require no communication with family and friends.  For the record he tried this program back in April of last year, not the one in Vermont but one here in MA, under the same umbrella organization.  On day 4 he called me and said he was leaving the program.

Today is day 5… I have yet to hear any news.

Just like before he seemed to be out of options.  He has cycled in and out of Detoxes, Rehabs, sober living, friend’s sofas, and home.  As of late nothing was sticking, he has yet to retain more than 5 months of sober time.  Just last week he learned that his insurance had been Red Flagged, there wasn’t a local Rehab that would be taking him anytime soon.  And staying at home indefinitely wasn’t an option.

We had a rather serious conversation last Thursday and I brought up the 15 month program, he didn’t shrug it completely off, I saw a ray of hope that he just might commit to it.  Armed with the testimony of someone who completed the program in Vermont, in the heart of snow-boarding country (yes I threw that in there) his interest took flight.  Calls were made; a placement was secured as was a bus ticket.

I made a call to the program on Tuesday morning to be sure he made it all the way there, I was assured he did and that they would take good care of him.  So as day 5 begins, (whew) I am thankful that today is a good day, and will continue to be thankful for everyday that…

No News is Good News.

If Only I’d Known…

I had the occasion to sit with a parent last night who made that above statement ~ “If only I’d known I’d be battling addiction with my child, I could have parented differently.”  That statement has stuck with me and I have turned it over and over in my head trying to find some validity to it as it applies to being the parent of an addict.

 

I know this woman well and she is a biological parent as well as parenting children by adopting them, Young Children that are adopted can come with a difficult history, as did the youngsters she has, and this has caused her to intentionally parent them in such a way as to help guide them past the set of baggage these sweet ones came with.  So on that level I can understand her statement of “If only I’d known”.

 

But that brings me to wrestling with it on another level.  Can I apply that logic to being the parent of an addict?   There are many out there that blame the parent for the child’s addictions and will offer such statements as

 

…if you had just had dinner with them every night

 

…if you had gotten them more involved in sports

 

…if you had just told them to SAY NO to drugs

 

And there are many more.

 

It’s my hope that all parents, parent intentionally.  That we (all parents) do our best to raise up our children to be good adults, instilling values and morals along the way.  I know I’d be foolish if I thought that was 100% truth all the time.  There are parents who haven’t, and they are in the news time and time again.

 

It’s also my hope that out of all the insanity of this current addiction crisis that is sweeping our country, that parents will start to understand that we are NOT promised perfect kids.  That even the best intentioned parents can end up with a son or daughter who becomes addicted to drugs.   I think we as parents, should parent assuming the WORST can happen.  Being conscience of the times and demons that long to devour our children and act like parents.

 

So the day doesn’t come when we say… If Only I’d known …

 

 

 

 

 

A Valentines Gift from my Addict

Traditionally Valentine’s Day is celebrated with Candy filled hearts, bouquets of Red Roses and candle light dinners.  I find it ironic though that the legend of Valentine’s Day may very well have begun from inside a jail cell…

 

 “According to one legend, an imprisoned Valentine actually sent the first “valentine” greeting himself after he fell in love with a young girl–possibly his jailor’s daughter–who visited him during his confinement. Before his death, it is alleged that he wrote her a letter signed “From your Valentine,” an expression that is still in use today”

I am very blessed to have a wonderful man as my husband who never lets this day go by without a sweet expression of his love for me.  This morning a single red rose sat at my place at the breakfast table as a testimony of his love.  As always I treasure him and his love for me.

 

Yet this Valentines I have an even greater gift, one that cost nothing.  A gift that wasn’t wrapped, nor did it have anything to do with chocolate…

 

The gift… my son got on a bus yesterday afternoon and headed to Vermont to commit himself to a 15 month program.  It will be 30 days before I will hear from him, I won’t hear from him today, I won’t hear him say “Happy Valentine’s Day mom”.  There will be no card from him… (and for the last few years of his active addiction there hasn’t been either).  But today, he is clean, safe and working toward his Recovery.  That is one of the best gifts I could receive today.

 

If you’re the loved one of an addict, I pray that you too receive that gift today.

 

If you’re loved one isn’t walking in Recovery today, if today they are still lost in the world of addiction…

 

Hold onto Hope.

 

It will be the best gift you can give yourself.

For Heath ~ and Whitney

While the world mourns the death of Whitney Houston who apparently died a drug related death, a mother by the name of Linda mourns her son Heath who just like Whitney died in his hotel room all alone from drugs on Saturday.

 

How ironic that both the famous and the non-famous died the same way, the same day.  Whitney’s name is all over the headlines, in the news, memorialized at the Grammy’s.  But Heath’s name appears no-where.  There were no reporters with camera crews who gathered at his hotel room to get the news out that he had passed from this life after battling with addiction for over a decade.  No one interviewed his mother Linda and asked her about his last days or last words.

 

Heath, just like Whitney (Michael Jackson, and Amy Winehouse of late) each battled a demon that had ensnared their life.  One that is ravaging many in today’s culture.  So many of our children; sister’s, brother’s, husbands, and wives are caught up in addiction.  Just as the world watches and waits for the outcome of the famous; such as Whitney Houston, Lindsay Lohan and Demi Moore, we the parents of addicts wait.  Not with cameras and reporters amassed around our every move, but we wait none the less.

 

Heath, just two weeks ago, after being estranged from his family for nearly a decade trapped in a world of addiction, sought out his mother in desperation,finally reaching out to her for help.   I don’t know all the details of how the last two weeks of his life went.  I do know Linda reached out to a friend of mine for help, this friend who’s life had never been affected by the ravages of addiction in turn came to me to ask if he could give my name and number to Linda as she was in need of help and support.  I waited for the call, but it never came.  Sunday morning I received an email instead letting me know that Heath’s battle had ended.

 

For all the Heaths out there, whose names will not appear in the headlines, this blog post is for you.  You were loved dearly; our hopes have always been that you would beat this demon.  That you would somehow find the road marked Recovery and embrace it.  That your life would find New meaning, that living in the day no longer meant hunting out your next fix, but it would mean enjoying once again the life you have been given by an Almighty God who loves you.  That you could be embraced by your family as they encourage and support you on that road marked Recovery.

 

I pray that the world will sit up and take notice of the Headlines, not just for Whitney’s sake… but for the sake of all the Heaths out there, and for all the sons and daughters like my son, who is still fighting the battle,  that we will take serious what is happening out there and come together to fight and maybe one day find a way to put an end to the demon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

New Tears

There have been times over the last 3 years that I have truly been afraid to cry, fearful that if I started I just might not stop for a while.  My default in the distant past has been to express my fear, sadness, brokenness etc. through anger.  Somehow the later always seemed safer then tears.

 

In my own Recovery work as the parent of an addict I have had to struggle my way through and allow the tears to come.  Watching my son battle his way through addiction is SAD stuff.  Most of the time I have been able to keep it all out there in “Detach” land, where his addiction is more abstract then familiar.   And there are times when Detaching is what we must do, for our own well-being, the well-being of our household and for our addict.

 

Tears have their place in the process…

 

Yesterday my son found himself on the street, insurance running out on day 6 of Detox with no bed to be found elsewhere.  The street was his next step.  Not what he (or I) had hoped for, but it all plays apart in the overall plan.  He called nearly in tears and very upset with what had just transpired.  We wired him enough money to get on the train and head back toward home base.  He stayed on the sofa in our family room for the night.  I don’t think any of us (with exception of the little man who didn’t know his brother was there) slept at all.

 

I tossed and turned and was kept awake by the sounds of his being awake tossing and turning.  Getting up, pacing.  It was a fretful night…

 

This morning his plan was to head into the City, to a hospital that helps those who have no other options.  As I got ready to leave for work I wrapped my arms around my son and cried, letting out some of the deep sadness in my heart.  Tears like that just haven’t flowed in a while.  I told him I am praying for him and for his journey, that this would be the day of not only new tears but of a new way of living for him…

 

Sometimes you just have to cry.

 

 

The Shoe or Hope

Reblogged from A Mothers Heart:

• 

“Waiting for the other Shoe to fall” is an old saying. Its meaning: to wait for the inevitable next step or the final conclusion. That’s where I sit right now, waiting for the other shoe to fall. My son, has been in recovery now for 30 days and doing well in a Halfway House. But I wait…For the phone to ring and hear him tell me;he’s been kicked out,or he failed his drug test orhe just can’t stand it anymore. I’ve heard all three of these in the past. Each attempt at recovery as of late has …

Are We There Yet?

As a child our family each summer would head out for day trips during my dad’s one week of vacation.  Each day a different location; the beach, the amusement park, the zoo, it didn’t matter where we went the above statement could be heard by the young voices in the back seat…

“Are we there yet?”       

Even now as an adult when my man and I set out for a day trip with our little man in tow, I will always ask; usually right after leaving the driveway (in jest of course)…

“Are we there yet?” 

I can remember 27 months ago (November 2009) when this journey began, finding out that my son needed Detox, like most new parents to this nightmare I thought…

Let me just get them into rehab and this craziness can be over. 

Oh how I wish that had been true.  In 27 months my son has had two 5+ months’ runs of clean time.  I have gotten weary at times… my heart wondering…

“Are we there yet?”

If I am truthful just this week I wondered… will he ever get there.  This has been a very difficult week for me as he has yet again returned to a detox.

I had the opportunity to speak to a new parent to all this craziness, and when they asked:

If I can just get them into a Detox we will be all set right?…

I had to take a moment to collect my thoughts as I wanted to not only help them navigate the deep waters they were about to enter, but to give them Hope.

As I breathed out my response to them, it was also spoken to my own weary heart…

“That can happen; but the norm in all of this is that you are in for a long ride”. 

I made sure I followed that statement up with words of Hope, words I needed to remind myself of.

Yesterday as I struggled still with my own personal weariness in that question, I heard from a friend, another parent in the fight who reminded me to hold onto Hope, to stay clearly in the day, and that day had brought my son back to a Detox… day 1 of being clean.

Are we there yet?… No, I am reminded that Recovery is a Journey with no destination other then today.

Letting Him Fall

Just over thirty years ago I became a mother for the first time.  I can clearly remember the emotions of that moment, which included a fullness of love, warmth and an undying determination to protect this beautiful child of mine.   I was a relatively young mother, yet even in my inexperience  you could have never convinced me back then that I would one day purposely allow one of my own fall.

 

Not ever.

 

Since that first sweet baby girl, I have had three more beautiful children.  And with each one, those feelings have been the same; love, warmth and that undying determination to protect.

 

Yet here I am fighting against every fiber of that determination to protect.  To protect my son against the evils of addiction; the homelessness, sickness and brokenness that inevitably follow when one is addicted to drugs.  The love in this mother’s heart is crying out to catch him in mid-air.  Just as any parent would when they toss their child in the air.  Never would we dream of letting them fall, our intention is to catch them while they squeal and giggle.

The only thing is… I’m not the one who tossed him into the air.  Addiction has done this to him.  And it has tossed him to such a height that I could never safely catch him.  Never mind the winds of relapse that consist of stealing, lying, and violence that would make it impossible for me to catch him safely.  Those ingredients bring with them way too many consequences to those around me and to me as well. The absolute chaos it brings trying to find just the right place to get under him is exhausting and destructive to our family.

 

Letting him fall, and maybe even fall hard to the point of complete brokenness is not what I ever imagined I would have to do as a mother.  But I am learning that sometimes the hardest things are truly the most loving of choices.  Rescuing him as I have in the past has done nothing to promote his sobriety.  My catching him in the fall, only seems to perpetuate the use, abuse and addiction.  When we make it too comfortable for them, protecting them from the evils they must battle themselves, we do them a huge disservice.

 

Letting him fall, and letting that complete brokenness happen is the scariest best thing I can do for him.

Living in De’NILE (Denial)

The Nile River, considered to be one of the longest rivers of the world encompassing 4130 miles as it winds through parts of Africa and Egypt is rich in history.  Most of us have heard of Cleopatra and her struggles along the Nile.  Struggles in my opinion that lead ultimately to her death, whether you believe she took her own life or was killed by an outsider who put a cobra in the basket.  Denial of her problems in the leadership world ultimately took her life…

De’Nile is never a good place to live…

Denial from the Wikipedia:

Denial (also called abnegation) is a defense mechanism postulated by Sigmund Freud, in which a person is faced with a fact that is too uncomfortable to accept and rejects it instead, insisting that it is not true despite what may be overwhelming evidence. The concept of denial is particularly important to the study of addiction.

I found this definition to be eye opening.  That last sentence is actually part of the definition.

The concept of denial is particularly important to the study of addiction.

That’s right folks; denial is part of the process, both for the addict and for us as loved ones of addicts. We both will jump into the river of denial and swim there for some time.  Addicts stay longer, it’s part an parcel of what happens to the brain as it becomes overwhelmed with constant drug use and abuse.  But us as parents/siblings etc it’s high time we get the heck out the river. 

In order for us to actually be on the helping end of their Recovery instead of the enabling end, we need to:

STOP denying the existence of addiction,

STOP denying that we have enabled,

STOP denying that ‘home isn’t a safe place’, and

STOP denying that we act in ways that if we were not in denial we would never act.  (see yesterdays post)

And I’m sure there is list of other areas in which we deny that we need to come to grips with as we face our own Recovery process.  In order to get a good grip on the reality of our loved ones addiction it takes climbing out of the river of De’Nile and living on the firm banks of reality. I pray we each do that and do what we can to support each other as we go through the process of getting rid of our sea legs and walking firmly on solid ground.

The Insanity Cycle

As the mother of an addict I know I’ve done some pretty foolish and maybe even dangerous things in the name of “saving my addict”.  Things that when I now stand back and look at what I’ve done or the places I’ve gone, I shudder in horror.

Like the time I took on a drug dealer on the phone, a dealer who had called me to tell me my son owed him $500.00 dollars and I best pay up… after some heated words, some of which included my telling him he was a poor business man for fronting a person without a job drugs he couldn’t pay for, and suggesting he would be better off working at McDonalds, said dealer went on to tell me he was coming to my home to take us all out… I said “well come on down, I’ll call the police and have them here before you can get here”….

I DO NOT in any way suggest that you do likewise.  The dealer never showed, (thank God) but I was pretty foolish.  I must admit this kind of (insane) behavior on my part continued.  My enabling insanity could have brought much wrath on my home, and more importantly my innocent family.  The cycle of such things went on for some time.  Until I finally realized I wasn’t helping my son (as he actually got a kick out of my taking on the dealers, fighting his battles.) Never mind there were a few times I had paid such dealers just to stop the phone calls.

When I had finally stopped such behavior, and was working hard at ending my enabling; a call had come about 9PM on October 31, 2008, it was my son telling me he had been kidnapped and if I didn’t bring him $500 immediately they would beat him.

I hung up the phone…

and this time instead of running to his rescue I let fate take its course.  He had indeed been kidnapped; he had been zip-tied to a tree and beaten pretty badly.  At about 11PM a police officer called our home to tell us they found my son, as they had received a call from another friend of his who had also gotten a call. They took him to the hospital where he was stitched up and X-rayed from head to toe.  The men who did this to him all went to prison, one of which is still there today.

This lesson was a double edged sword for our family.  My son, traumatized by this event stopped using drugs for a while.  Fear can be a motivator to the addict.  I learned that I have to step back and let the consequences fall where they may as difficult as it was to see my son after this had happened to him and even feeling the guilt of not running to him and giving over yet another $500.  Rescuing my son could easily become a full time job, one that would just continue the insanity cycle, bankrupting our family and worse yet never stopping the addiction.  Only continue to feed it.

As difficult as it can be… do whatever it takes to STOP the INSANITY CYCLE.  Breaking the cycle can bring some tough consequences, but it can also bring about the route of change we so desire to happen.