All I Have is Hope

Nov 29, 2017, 3:56 PM Today Sam is 16 days clean off heroin. Things are so precarious now that this is easily the most difficult post to date (barring the first one). After I started writing about Sam's heroin addiction last spring, I committed myself to continuing to post regardless of the outcome. Hindsight is 20/20. I don't want to forget why I made the decisions I did during this time. This has become my diary of being Sam's mom.

Someday I am going to go back and read and probably be shocked because I am sure I have forgotten so much of what has happened. I don't force it. I write largely to process it and to pay it forward. It's important that people know the power of this drug, especially people that I care about. It's hard to explain the emotions at play right now, something is shifting but I don't know how to explain it.

It feels like Sam is walking on a tightrope. One side of the rope is sobriety (life) and on the other side is heroin (death). He could just as easily fall to one side as the other. Actually, one side has a much stronger pull than the other. So close to life and death at the same time. For many reasons, however, I believe there is more reason to hope now than ever.

Sam seems to truly want sobriety this time, likely because the consequences of his relapse were worse for him this time (because him nearly dying didn't affect him like it affected me). This time he actually lost something HE really cares about. This time he has to face facts. He finally sees how much is at stake, someone he loves finally walked away.

Sam is attracted to strong, bad-ass women who stand up for themselves and expect honesty.

Those women understand that dishonesty is a sign of disrespect. I am a huge fan of women like this and even find pride in my son for not picking a doormat who will try to "save him." He has enough people doing that. Sam has no idea if he can repair the damage in time (if he stays sober) but he is focusing on saving his own life now. Whatever happens after that remains to be seen. The only one who can save Sam now is Sam. It feels like he is starting to understand this.

Hope is a scary state of mind for me, especially after this last relapse. Sobriety is a funny thing. One minute Sam can want it and be fully committed and the next minute he can stick a needle in his arm. This is very common in recovering addicts. To people who are connected with the addict, It seems to happen very fast but in reality, it happens over a period of time. It can be very confusing to watch and experience the relapse of a loved one. Sam's always happen the same way and its always a gradual process. He spends more time in his room, finds excuses to miss meetings, quits calling his sponser, and claims all of his sober friends are too busy to hang out with him.

Small changes happening over time so that we (his family) don't notice it specifically but can feel it happening. Crazy making. He starts to behave more and more strangely, making excuses for odd behavior that doesn't make sense but yet isn't extreme and is therefore confusing as hell. Why does he borrow money from his brother to take his girlfriend out to dinner if he has a job, no car, doesn't pay rent or his phone bill or buy his own clothes or even seemingly do anything at all which would give him a chance to spend it? Why did he suddenly decide to clean his room? (The historical answer is Meth). When I started noticing these things, my nerves began to fray once again.

To say that I "expected" Sam to relapse would be nothing short of disrespectful. Every recovering heroin addict's life is on the line every single day for the rest of their lives. That is a fact. To say I was shocked, however, would be naive. To say I didn't know something was very wrong would be lying but there was nothing I could do about it. This is why hope is uncomfortable for me. I have to guard against getting my "hopes up". I don't like to get excited about something and then be disappointed so I try to keep my expectations about things I have no control over reasonable. Sometimes it is hard to manage when there are so many people who are so positive he will recover.

I want to be that sure of his survival too but I would be lying to myself. There are many who know exactly what I am up against and what the odds are. They are parents of addicts and some are recovering addicts themselves. They are the ones who tell me "We love you and we've got your back no matter what." They remind me I have no control. They keep me grounded. I need that.

Sam is in the fight for his life now and all I can do is love him and sit and watch. If you were in Vegas, would you bet on hope and against statistics? If your kid was a heroin addict you would. Statistics are against you. All you have is hope. All I have is hope.

Where there is life, there is hope. Thank you for reading. #nomoreshame