Could This Really Happen to Any Family?

Where did we go wrong? As far as we knew, weren't any different than any other family.

Apr 3, 2017, 11:08 AM

When you find out your kid is addicted to drugs and alcohol, you start to question every thing you have ever done since the moment they were born. And, not only that, you question everything the other parent has or hasn't done. You want to find someone or something to blame. Then, if you have a good support group, you come to realize that you, as someone who loves that addict, didn't cause it, can't control it, can't cure it.

My Son's dad and I are divorced now. We loved each other and the kids so very much but in the end the cracks were too deep. We did the best we could at the time, but I know looking back we would both change many things. But what parent wouldn't? We all have regrets, ways we think we could have done better, moments of immaturity. It's just that usually we aren't looking back under such dire consequences.

Usually we just have to wonder why our kid is such a brat that day or why they can't save money or keep their room clean. None of those things matter to me any more. They haven't for 2 1/2 years. Nor does the fact that my son is 18 in May and hasn't been in school for two years, that he will never attend a school dance, that he will never go to prom, that he may not go to college. Nope, I just want him to live and to be sober.

When Sam is sober, he is amazing. He is funny, kind, helpful and extremely witty. He is also fearless in many ways. This is great because I have seen him scale up a rock wall without even flinching and run into the middle of open range to try for our team's target flag when we played paintball together. This is also terrible because he gets in stranger's cars and sticks needles in his arms. He is not completely fearless though.

He lives in constant fear that he is not good enough, that he doesn't fit in, that he will never be able to stay sober. He lives in shame, guilt, despair, and blinding cravings. He also has continuous glimmers of hope as he sees his sober friends flourish as they grow in their sobriety.

I hope he will find his fearlessness in real life. If he is sober, he will do great things. If he is not, he will die. There is no middle game with him. He is playing Russian roulette all by himself.

As I write this, he is in a facility about 40 minutes from us. There are many facilities closer but most don't take kids under 18 and they all have designated male/female beds. It is also much harder to find treatment facilities for kids. We have been to two amazing ones.

You never judge a faculty by your kid's sobriety (unless it is easy for their friends to slip drugs to them). Ultimately, the facility's job is to provide tools. Not all may be a good fit for each person but they all have something to offer. It is nice if you can afford several treatments to make sure you and they are getting help from different angles.

The two we have been to were very different but a lot of the lessons were the same. It is up to the addict to want to change and to be willing to do whatever it takes. Still, if we were rich, we would continue to try rehab after rehab because after all, when they are in rehab, you know that at least they are safe.

The very best sleep I have had in the last 2 1/2 years was during my son's two inpatient stints in rehab. It seemed like time stood still. I could laugh and relax and sleep and pay more attention to my other kids. It was wonderful. I had so much hope. I realize it could make me sound like a monster: "My kid is (in both cases) many hours away in drug rehab and it's party time at the Kennedy's," but there are many of you know exactly what I am taking about.

When inpatient treatment is over and your kid returns, you notice that the demons have returned also: Fear, worry, expectations. over controlling, trying too hard, saying too much, impatience ("aren't you fixed and ready to take on the world yet?") prodding ("school will be a breeze sober...").

Gradually, through the support of other parents who have been there, you learn that it all takes time. So you learn to grow patient. You learn to let go a little, you learn to relax. You think you see progress, you start to find hope. You start to believe. Life is good. He's got this. Then, one day, you notice something seems off.

It doesn't feel right or sit well but when your kid has worked so hard and is trying so hard, it seems wrong to question their efforts. You realize it is just you. You are, in fact, insane, how could you doubt what they tell you? Then you call Frank (the counselor God put on this earth to help so many of our kids into sobriety, a much loved and respected man) and he will say "The truth will reveal itself" so you sit and wait. Inside, you know you are likely right but you want so badly to be wrong. You are not wrong.

Then you get the call, they tell you he is gone, or he is in the hospital, or they ask if you know where he is and your heart sinks back into despair as you realize you are once again, back into the dark world of loving an active addict. You are terrified beyond words because you know that he may not get this in time. You don't want to believe it but you have been here too long, researched too much, heard too much. You realize that you sound like you have given up, especially to someone who hasn't attended this rodeo but you know that you will never ever give up, you just know too much to be naive about how bad this really is.

Thank you for reading my post. Writing these last three days has been more cathartic than I would have imagined. It helps me reflect and feel and cry. I need that, it's easy to shut down. I always write through tears, love you all.

#nomoreshame