Losing Myself to Sam's addiction

Today my son celebrates his 104th day of sobriety after his near fatal heroin overdose in March. When people ask me how he is and I tell them he sounds good and he has three months clean they feel relieved for us. I also want to feel relieved for us but somehow it escapes me. Gratitude and relief are not the same. Sometimes I feel like my posts might make me sound like a Debbie Downer. I am a very positive person in life but I am simply a realist when it comes to heroin addiction. I know too much about heroin to feel relief. If my goal is to be a Pollyanna, I need to change the subject matter. That is not my goal, however, it is simply to share my experience as the mom who nearly lost her son to a heroin overdose. My hope is that it opens up communication and lessens the stigma of being a family with a heroin addict.

Last night a friend sent me a local obituary of a stunning 20 year old woman who died of a heroin overdose last week. The young woman was the daughter of a friend of hers. She was laid to rest yesterday. She left behind a twin brother and two sisters as well as her parents and many others who loved her so dearly. She had recently celebrated 90 days of sobriety before relapsing. It was devastating to read. My heart is so heavy right now. This family should not have lost their beautiful daughter to this horrific drug. This is what heroin addiction is. It knows no bounds. To paraphrase a small portion of her eloquent obituary: It doesn't matter who they are, where they come from, or how much support they have, the only one who can save the addict is ultimately the addict them self. I have known for 2 1/2 years that I don't have control over Sam's addiction yet the night I almost lost him changed something inside me. I am not the same person I was before that night.

I find myself hanging on tighter than I ever have before. I talk incessantly about breathing when I teach yoga yet I can't seem to breathe myself. I have struggled to find the motivation to do things that make me feel good, like running and yoga. I just can't seem to exhale. Throughout Sam's treatment for addiction, every time I have dared to believe things were going well I was blindsided. Each relapse has been deeper and darker than the one before. The last two relapses turned into drug induced suicide attempts and the second suicide attempt, on March 31, 2017, was nearly successful.

I have been told that he likely cannot survive another relapse and my reaction is understandable but not healthy. I know that I have to start taking care of myself again but I have felt stuck to move. I guess perhaps I believe (in my bat-shit crazy brain) that if I don't exhale this time he will be okay. That if I continue to lose myself under this amount of stress he will stay clean, That the worse I feel the better he will be. This thinking is not rational but I guarantee I am not alone. Most of us don't analyze or admit it, but the cloud above us feels so heavy and dark at times. We have to work hard not to lose ourselves. Some times it's easier than other times.

Last year, shortly after Sam returned from his 4th treatment, I completed a 120 mile 6 day run/hike/crawl through the Rockies. It was amazing. Not everyone close to me thought it was okay that I left for 8 days so close to Sam's return. Frank thought it was okay though, he knew that my excursion was not going to impact Sam's sobriety. Sam thought it was okay too. I am so glad I went.

In the three months since Sam's OD, I have run less than 20 miles total. Instead of 4-6 yoga classes I normally take a week, I am very lucky if I get two in. It has just been too much. I haven't been sitting on the couch eating bon bons but life is simply not balanced now and hasn't been since that day we almost lost him.

Knowledge is power though and I have been working hard to get back to being myself again. What we can acknowledge and admit we can change. Life is going to happen whether we hold our breath under the illusion of control or not. The key is to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward, no matter what.

Over the past couple of weeks, I have realized that I am in a unique position to share our experience. I don't have any reputation to uphold in the professional world. I am a yoga teacher. The managers I work for as well as the other teachers I work with are nothing short of amazing with their support and love. Every single one of them. I am divorced so I don't have a spouse to offend or his work reputation to uphold. This is not always the case. Many people feel like they have to hide their kid's addiction from the world. I completely understand why. Not everyone is in the position to be open without it deeply affecting their personal life and relationships. That is one reason I write about it, because I can.

Some may think it is too private of a matter. I disagree. This is a national epidemic and its days of privacy in my world are long over. This is my life and my allegiance is toward my son and I have nothing to lose. My goal is to be real about the plight of heroin addiction. In part because it strengthens me and in part because my hope is that it will benefit others.

For today, I am grateful that my son celebrates 104 days of sobriety. He sounds amazing; Strong, sober, mature. My goal is to continue to recognize that just as he is responsible for his own sobriety, I am responsible for my own sanity and health. To live well is a choice, not a default.

Thank you so much for your continued support and prayers. I know there are a silent group of you who are following our journey and my prayers are with you as well. Where there is life, there is hope. Love you.#nomoreshame