The Unbearable Guilt I Carry

When I see my own eyes in the mirror, I recognize me as the one who couldn't save Sam. It was my most important job and I failed. I don't get another try, he is gone. Now, I have to live with all the things I did wrong forever. When I wallow in guilt, I realize that part of my healing is to learn forgive myself. Guilt shouldn't be worn as a blanket but deconstructed as a patchwork quilt.

Guilt can be a beautiful emotion if it changes behavior. If you feel guilty for being a dick, don't be a dick and you might feel better. It can also be a lame place to hangout and stay stuck. We tend to think that feeling guilty is enough. It can also kind of get us off the hook. "Sure, I was a bitch, but I feel guilty....

Guilt can also hold us back if we refuse to forgive ourselves for being human. Most empathetic people cling too tightly to guilt. It feels better to take blame and to be self-critical. We have grown too comfortable saying "I feel so guilty for..." because it feels safer to act like we have control than to admit powerlessness or vulnerability.

There are so many reasons that I couldn't save Sam. I feel guilty that I was imperfect, that addiction runs in my family, that we didn't try ketamine, that I was out of town when he died, that he died alone in a field, that he froze to death while he overdosed, that he was there for days before being found, that I never found words profound enough to change his life, and the list goes on forever.

Mom's want to believe we have this infinite power because we love our kids so fully and completely. But, is it true? Whatever our kids' issues are, they are first and foremost human beings with their own thoughts, believes, feelings, genetics, personalities, and motivations. They are not even close to the extensions of us that we imagine them to be.

Sometimes they hear our words, sometimes they even listen, but to them, we speak the same language that our parents did. "Blah, blah, blah,...be safe,... blah, blah, blah,...use your manners, blah blah blah,... here's your allowance..." We perceive ourselves to be much cooler than our own parents were but to our kids, we just aren't.

Some of our words matter, others don't.

Did I ever change my life in order to appease my mom? No, I did not. Did I love, respect, and want to please her? Very much, but never enough to change my behavior for her. I did not let her choose my friends or hobbies. I chose hanggliding over education and adventure over stability. She has never understood my lifestyle but has always accepted it. She never funded my habits and I never felt obligated or compelled to live a life that is pleasing to her, other than to be a kind and well mannered person.

If I choose to believe I had the power to save Sam, and therefore am guilty of his death, I will be imprisoned forever. It was not one thing, it was a lethal combination of many things. Taking the whole load on my shoulders feels noble but is actually rather narcissistic. I can't even solve all of my own issues or addictions, how could I even imagine that I had any power over his?

Any mom who has lost a kid to drug addiction understands that the guilt and grief we carry threatens to bury us alive if we allow it to. We forget that our kids are much more complex that we can understand from the outside. The only person that can save an addict is the addict. We can only love, respect, and support them to the best of our ability.

Becoming a mom didn't turn me into a perfect human or give me sudden superpowers, nor did Sam's addiction. I work hard to keep my memories honest. If I caused Sam's addiction, all 4 of my kids should have suffered the same fate. If I had any control over Sam's addiction, I would have snuffed it out years ago. And, if I could have cured Sam's addiction, he wouldn't be dead.

I am so blessed to be Sam's mom and I would not change the time I had with him to avoid the pain I feel now. My love for him will always continue to grow, every single day.

Where there is Life, there is Hope.