"Saving" Sam

I spoke to Sam for the first time since dropping him off at Hazelden/Betty Ford on Saturday. He sounded good. He sounded like he has hope. I. told him about a thought I had today. I had decided that if God would promise me that Sam would live, I would be willing to surrender him completely. I would agree to never see or speak to him again. Obviously God doesn't make those trades with us, but I am sure I am not alone in wishing that I had some bargaining power.

I would give up anything; my legs, arms, eyesight, soul, or whatever it would take if I could save Sam. I think that all parents watching their kid suffer feel that way. Our kid's addiction consumes us. We become desperate. We become willing to do anything, sane or not, to give them one more chance at life. I shudder to think of the crazy things I have done to try to "help", "control", and "save" my son.

I have grounded him, tracked his phone (which I found to be a worthless waste of time), knocked on strangers' doors and looked through strangers' properties. I have called his friends as well as their parents. I have staked out his friends' houses and followed them around town, hoping they would lead me to Sam. I have shown up unannounced at his friends' doors, confronted them, and accused them of lying. This is all pretty typical when we try to nail down the specifics of our kid's addiction.

As the addiction worsens, the behavior of the bat shit crazy parent can also become crazier. Mine certainly continued to spiral. I hauled all cleaners, medications and jewelry around in my car with me for days so he wouldn't get into them when I was gone. I drove all over Denver looking for him. Once, I walked through a park known for its drug activity at night, carrying a large knife. To make it worse, I had my two younger kids in tow. Both were under 15 at the time but I felt invincible that night. Let anyone dare mess with us. I was scared that I wasn't going to be able to find Sam and I was angry. I was also an idiot. I won't do that again.

I walked the streets of Denver with Sam's dad for hours one night looking for him. We believed that the only way to safely find a homeless addict in the middle of the night was to look like a homeless addict and carry nothing. And so that is what we did. We finally went to our respective homes at 2am so we could sleep a few hours and reconvene to hit the streets again at 6:30.

I spent part of that second day loitering at Colfax and Speer, (the heroin mecca of Denver as of last spring). I sat there and talked to dealers and addicts while showing them pictures of Sam. I gave several of them my phone number and I am pretty sure one of them butt dialed me later that day. I even sat and listened to one guy's story.

His step dad had murdered his mom. He was supposedly clean at the time we were talking and he was just waiting for his probation officer to show up. I am not sure why his PO would agree to meet him within 20 feet of Denver's premier heroin district. While I was there, the guy's girlfriend walked up and showed him her ultrasound picture. She had just been to the doctor. They were expecting a baby. These are experiences I never dreamed I would have, but they have changed me.

I no longer feel removed from the addicts I see on the streets. I now see them as someone's son or daughter who is likely alone and suffering greatly in their own private hell. I won't give them money to feed their addiction but I now feel compassion and free of judgement. I realize that my son, at least for several days of his young life, was one of them. I hope he doesn't return to the streets.

Being Sam's mom has changed me. I have gradually grown more healthy in my dealings with his addiction but some days are much easier than others. I am always grateful to have my mom friends at CS to help me stay on the right path.

Today I know that I cannot cure or control my son, nor did I cause his addiction. Today I will continue to support him and love him. He has so much to offer the world.

Where there is life, there is hope. Thank you for reading. Love you.

#nomoreshame