May 21, 2012
Two weeks
ago I did the unthinkable. I told my
beloved son that he had to leave my home.
The same son that I held in my arms for the first time 28 years ago who
gave new meaning to my life, whom I felt such love for I felt my heart would
burst. And now, I’m telling that same
son that he has to leave, knowing that he has no place to go, no money, no job.
It was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I found a meth lab in my son’s car. When I found it, all of the missing puzzle
pieces started to fall into place. The
open pocketknife I found in our bathroom, and the next day in our garage. The many times I had tried to call him or
talk to him only to be told he was sleeping in the middle of the
afternoon. The fact that he’s been
jobless for over a year and was being supported by his girlfriend. His weight loss, the grayish color to his
skin, the dark circles under his eyes.
When I think about all of these warning signs, I wonder how I could have
been so blind. How could my denial be so
strong? After all, I go to Alanon and
know the reality of relapses. Two years
ago he was in jail in Texas for possession, and swore when he got out that he
would never use again. The letters that
he wrote from jail were full of remorse and a renewed faith in God. I so wanted to believe that he had finally
hit bottom, and that he would never go back.
I guess God
knew that I would need to be slapped in the face with evidence that was beyond
dispute before I would believe that my son was using again. That’s what he gave me. For that, I am thankful. We offered my son detox and rehab and told
him we would drive him the two hours to get there. He flatly refused and insisted all he needed
was a job to get his life back on track.
So he left. I hugged him, we both
cried, and I watched him walk out the door, and my heart broke. My husband gave him $20 for food, which he
promptly spent on a bottle of whiskey.
He parked his car in front of our house a couple of days later and left
a note saying that he had gone job-hunting with a friend. He came in later in the afternoon and got
something to eat. At least for that one
day, I knew he was ok and had food in his stomach. He told me was staying with a friend in a
nearby town, so I felt better knowing he had a roof over his head. That lasted one night. He parked his car in front of our house again
the next day and left another note saying he was job hunting and would be back
later in the day to get his car. His car
sat in front of our house for 3 days. I
contacted one of the few friends he has who has a phone. The friend told me
that my son had hooked up with his ex-girlfriend, who also uses, and that they
were in her car. Saturday morning I
found evidence in our shed that my son and his girlfriend had slept in our
there, but they were gone by the time I found it. On Sunday, Mother’s Day, we awoke to find his
girlfriend’s car sitting in our driveway, fully loaded with their belongings,
with a sunshield in the front window and an inflated air mattress on top of the
car. They were asleep inside. He stopped in when they woke up around noon
to tell me happy mother’s day and promised he would come by to eat dinner at
our get-together in a couple hours. He
never came back. I haven’t seen or heard
from him since.
It is agony
to not know where he is, or even how to get in touch with him. If I allow my thoughts to take over, I could
go insane. I eat, and I wonder if he’s
eaten that day, I sleep and I wonder where he’s sleeping, I laugh and I wonder
when he will find joy in his life.
I work in
the school systems, and now that I am out of school until August I have lots of
free time to think about all of this. I
have a tendency to obsess, and that will be my downfall if I’m not
careful. Right now, I’m praying a lot
and finding comfort in the support of my husband, my daughters, and my Alanon
group. I try to catch negative thoughts when they enter my
mind and replace them with positive thoughts.
God helps me with that. I think
of my husband, who has been a saint through all of this mess, especially
considering he is the step-dad. I think
of my daughters who have beautiful hearts and souls and who I am so proud
of. I remember my beautiful son, who
also had a kind heart, before meth took over his thoughts and actions. I hold onto the person he was, and who I know
he will be again, in God’s perfect timing.
I will never give up hoping for his recovery. Meth is powerful, but my God is more
powerful. In the Lord I put my trust.
I am in this place too. My beautiful boy. I miss him so much
ReplyDeleteI am in this place too. My beautiful boy. I miss him so much
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry, Kathy. I have learned much on this journey, but one of the most important lesson I have learned is that, with the help of God, I can live through the unlivable and even find peace in the midst of madness. It is a process and you will make it through this. Take it one day at a time and find a good support group or a trustworthy friend because you can't keep it all inside. I hold you and your beautiful boy in my prayers.
DeleteJust found your blog. I'm going to start at the beginning and read it through. I could have written some of the same words you wrote in you "About Me" blurb. Especially: "My son is in a fight for his life against addiction, and is currently in jail as a result of the power it held over his life. I've tried to fight his battle for him, but am coming to realize that he alone can fight his demons." My son recently turned 21 in jail--probably not the way he had always imagined spending his 21st birthday.
ReplyDelete