The Song that never ends…

It goes like this…

This is the song that never ends.
It goes on and on my friends.
Someone started singing it not knowing what it was,
and they’ll continue singing it forever just because…

This is the song that never ends.
It goes on and on my friends.
Someone started singing it not knowing what it was,
and they’ll continue singing it forever just because…

You get the point.

This is what I have been going through with my son.  It’s the same verse, same as the first a whole lot louder and a whole lot worse!  (ok I’ll stop with the songs)

Since January 2012 he has been in and out of Detox and Rehabs.  The last few weeks he tried a whole new road that ended quickly.  The dead end that I thought he would find was there not long out of the gate so to speak. I am getting good at letting  him fail.  It’s a lesson he seems to have not quite gotten because he seems to have to keep repeating it.

In these past 4+ months he has walked out of programs and has been kicked out of programs, each time calling me with the same “verse”.

The undertone of that verse being…. It’s always someone else’s fault.

After just 3 days (I think this is a record for him) he was once again told to leave a program, he called me with his lament and I was so tired of hearing the same song… I stopped him in the middle of his latest rendition and told him it was time to get real. He has been removed from 7 programs in just the last few months… I asked him one of those hard questions…

so what do you think common denominator in all of this?

Me” he said.

So what do you think needs to change?” I said

Me” he responded.

Next he said “mom you know I can stay clean

“No I don’t know you can STAY clean, you’ve never done that before; I know you can go three months clean that’s all I know.”  I said.

He may still want to sing the same tune, but me I’m putting out a new melody; it’s called “walking in truth”.  That’s a song if he starts singing over and over again I promise you I will not tire of.

Hanging on to Hope and Walking in Truth.

The Unfamiliar Road


It has taken me some time to process the ‘The Unfamiliar Road’ my son has chosen to take.  My first response to his telling me about this choice was not good.

I got angry

I mourned

I thought

I read about it…

And still didn’t like it.

But the truth is even after all of that; it’s not my choice to make.

I tried to fight against it, I told him every CON I could think of while he listed the PRO’s.  I couldn’t think of one success story that included this road he was about to take.  My lament continued…

He asked me “I need to know will you still be in my corner?”

Sometimes he asks such hard questions.  I wanted to say NO.  I won’t be in your corner if you take this path.  I wanted to demand that he do it my way…

But it’s not my choice to make.  

It will never be my choice to make.  I’m not the addict.  I’m not the one who’s been in Rehab after Rehab still not finding the right door to walk through.  Getting wearier and wearier of the process.  He needs to find the Road that will bring him to a life of Sobriety.  This is his journey and only his.

So after a few phone conversations; I was finally able to say;

“This is your journey, you need to work this and whatever it takes to get you there I will be in your corner cheering you on, even if it is on an Unfamiliar Road.”  

I’m so glad it’s not my choice to make.




The Rehab Circus






Yesterday my dear friend at Addiction Journal wrote an amazing piece call the “The Recovery Wand”.  If you haven’t read it, please stop right now go read it then come back here and read the rest of this one.  (Go on now… )

For three and half years now I have believed that Rehab would be the magic wand.  That it somehow holds the mystic cure for my addicted son.  In my posts I have compared the cycles of addiction/Rehab to the Hamster Wheel and the Never Ending Roller coaster.  (and if you read my friend’s post you heard it compared to a magic wand).

Yesterday my son called it a Circus.

It’s been a week and a half since his “really bad weekend” in the Shelter.  He found himself in a locked unit at a Rehab and for nearly a week plus things looked like it was going really well.  And once again I was putting my hope in an entity to cure/fix/change/rehab my son.

More often than not I have been very frustrated with the Rehab process.  It would seem to me that they should know better than any of us what addiction/drugs do to the mind, heart and social skills of those addicted.  You would also think that they would be prepared to handle it, help those addicted work through the damage.  Instead I find that they just kick them out if they don’t behave well.

I mean seriously… they are addicts, most of them fresh from the battle of using and they somehow expect them all to behave well?

I truly believe its not just our addicts that are broken… I think they system they have to operate in is too.  (In all fairness to Rehabs… I know there are success stories)

My son said…

“Mom I’m done with the Rehab-Hospital Circus, I have to try something different this just isn’t working for me”. 

To which I said.. “this is your journey you need to take charge of it, do what you think you need to do”.

As a parent I cannot put my Hope in a Rehab.  That’s about as foolish as the Magic Wand theory.  I am more and more convinced I can only place my Hope in the One who is Hope.  For me that is God most High.  I am not sure what it will take to bring my son safely down Recovery Road but I know it will never be a Circus or a Magic Wand.

Sometimes it Just Hurts…





Being the parent of an addict just hurts sometimes.  There is no getting around that.  There are times I work really hard at being strong, remaining detached and staying balanced.

And then out of nowhere something happens… and it hurts.  It gets in under the armor, the arrow finds that one place where it can sink into my flesh and the wound is raw and the sting is fresh.  And I am reminded that addiction and all that it brings with it is a real battle, a battle we cannot hold back by our will alone.

My son’s battle took on an ugly turn last week; he was met with the reality of his bad choices and found himself in a Shelter in downtown Boston.  Not the (considerable) safety of a Rehab, but a shelter.  He was robbed, didn’t sleep, and had to beg for money on the streets to find his way back to help.

He called numerous times for help, to be rescued out of it all.

I had to let the phone ring…

I had to let go completely…

My suit of armor fell to the floor, as did I.  I found myself sitting on the floor of the bathroom crying hard, hoping no one would hear me.

I let the tears and the fears fall…

Once back to this area his battle continued to the point of a near suicide attempt.  A cry of desperation.

Again I had to stay away, I had to let it all play out… whatever it would take for him to become serious about Recovery…

Thankfully today he is again safe… and I have found the strength to once again put the armor back on.

And I have come to the realization that “Sometimes it Just Hurts!”