He moved

The treatment center was not able to extend my son's stay another 28 days.  That was disappointing, but there is good news too.  Part of the reason they couldn't extend his stay is that they feel he is doing so well! Also, the same day that he found out he couldn’t stay in treatment another 28 days, a halfway house located in the same town visited the treatment center and he found out they had an opening.  He talked to them about moving in, and they approved it.  So, a member of the staff helped him move into the halfway house Friday night.  He says it’s a nice place, and that so far the men he has met there seem like good guys.  Also, his counselor at the treatment center got him approved for outpatient counseling, so he will be able to continue to see a counselor. 

         Now he will be able to continue working which is such a blessing. If he hadn’t been accepted into the halfway house he would have had to quit his job and come home.  For the first time in a long time he wants to work and be productive, and I’m go glad that things worked out the way they did.

         Of course I still have to fight off worrisome thoughts about his roomies at the halfway house, but when I catch them entering my head, I try to replace them with a positive thought and a quick “I trust you Jesus.” My oldest daughter plans to come and visit us in 2 weeks, so we’ll go visit him then.  I’ll feel better after I see the house and meet some of the other guys.  It’s a long drive each way, but I’m so happy to be able to seen him sober and content that’s it’s worth every minute.  I am humbled and amazed at the work I see the good Lord doing in my son’s life.

No guarantees

I have come to realize that one of the obstacles between myself and serenity is the fact that I tend to want guarantees.  I don’t like uncertainty.  I want to KNOW that things are going to work out ok, and the way I think they should.  I am learning though, that I just don’t always know what is best.  I don’t see the big picture, but God does.  When I see the miracles that He is working in my son’s life, I am humbled beyond measure.  Four months ago, my son had accepted that he was either going to wind up dead or in jail.  Either way didn’t matter to him.  He was so completely under the control of his addiction.  Today my son knows what it’s like to feel normal again without drugs, and he doesn’t want to lose that.  No matter what happens, I will forever be grateful for that.

          

         Things are still going well for my son in treatment.  He found a job, which is a miracle in itself.  He has been unemployed for over a year, and has a pending court case; yet he found a job!  If that isn’t a miracle I don’t know what is.   He continues to work at his recovery program so hard.  I am so proud and impressed with his determination.  He found a church nearby the treatment facility and rides his bike there on Sundays for the service.

        

         He had a Status Hearing scheduled for this coming Monday, but the courts granted a continuance until November.  I am so thankful.  I feel that the longer he can stay in the recovery community that he is in, the better.  His 60 days at the treatment center will be up on Wednesday.  He has put in a request for an extended stay, but is waiting to hear an answer.  I’m hoping, of course, that they let him stay another 28 days.  I am just praying for God’s will though, and the serenity and courage to accept it if an extended stay is not granted.

        

         I have not done a good job of keeping up with my blog, and I apologize for that.  I still keep up with the blogs I follow and keep all of you in my prayers. 

        

My own recovery

I recently learned from a fellow blogger that September is National Recovery Month.  You can read about it in detail at this website:  http://www.recoverymonth.gov/.

         I think it’s important to raise public awareness of the enormity of the addiction epidemic in our society. I also think it’s good to celebrate recovery and give hope to the hopeless.  We all know that the stigma that society associates with addiction is very real, and is hindering the process of raising public awareness.  I am coming to realize though, that I am part of the problem.  Speaking strictly for myself, as I’ve tried to work through my own issues as a POA, I’ve come to realize that I also carry around a self-imposed stigma.  I have let my fear of what others might think of me and my son keep me silent about his addiction to anyone outside of my blog and my Alanon group. I am coming to realize that I need to start working on that within myself.

         When I first learned my son was an addict I was overcome with so many emotions.  I was knocked to my knees with the feeling that I had failed him, and somehow caused his addiction.  As I processed those feelings over the next few months, and have met other POAs, I’m starting to realize that there is no stereotypical profile for addicts. I’m learning that I can’t fully help my son recover until I work through my own emotional baggage and stop blaming myself. In other words, I have my own type of “recovery” to work on.  I find that when I’m drowning in my own guilt, I tend to want to enable.  If I’m honest with myself, the enabling is more to soothe my own guilt than to help him. As I struggle with  on my own issues, it helps me understand a little more how hard it must be for my son to change his habits. Our lifelong thought patterns are deeply ingrained and not easy to change.  I have a long way to go, and I still catch myself having “what if” moments, but through the sharing of fellow POAs, and with God’s help, I’m making progress. 

     I’m trying to come to the point when I can “come out” of the POA closet I have placed myself in, and start sharing my story with people outside of my Alanon group and my blog. My dad was an alcoholic, and I grew up under a shroud of secrecy and shame, not really understanding why, just knowing that somehow our family was different, and we shouldn’t talk about it.  It’s hard to break through that barrier of shame, but I’m coming to realize that in order to help other POAs, and addicts I need to share my story.   I know there will be people who judge us, but until people realize that addiction can affect anyone, nothing will change.  So, when I say the line from the Serenity Prayer, “God grant me courage to change the things I can,” I am realizing that although I can't control what other people think, one of the things I can change is my own attitude about sharing our story.

         As I have read blogs of fellow POAs, addicts, and recovering addicts, I feel a special connection with so many of you.  Even though we have never met face to face I rejoice in your victories, and grieve over your setbacks.  The enormity of the problem, and the pain caused by addiction is almost overwhelming at times.  I am just beginning to learn how many people are affected by it, and why it is being called an epidemic.  But in the midst of the pain, there is hope.  We must cling to the hope that lasting recovery does happen, even against seemingly impossible odds.  My son is going on 90 days clean, and 4 months ago I wasn’t even certain if he was dead or alive.  Yes, it took an arrest to get him into treatment and help him get clean, but the Lord has a way of taking what is meant to work against us, and turning it into something good.  I know he will have to fight this addiction the rest of his life, but for just this day, he is safe, he is clean, and he remembers what it is like to feel normal without being high.  Where there is life, there is hope.

          

         The POAs I have come to know are some of the strongest and most compassionate people I know. I have learned so much from each of you, and I will be forever grateful that you have shared your journeys.  While it’s true there are some who will judge us and point fingers, I look at all of you with the utmost respect and admiration.

         

        

Precious Moments

As parents we all have moments that we want to freeze in time.  Moments in which we wish we could make time stand still just so we can savor its beauty.  The first time it happened with my son was when I held him in my arms just after his birth.  That was the exact moment in which I learned the meaning of unconditional love.  I remember  staring at his face and wanting to remember every detail of that moment.

            We went to visit my son at rehab again on Saturday, and the only way I can describe it, is to say it was a holy experience.  He and another of the guys there have taken it upon themselves to lead a Bible study on Saturdays.  Since he knew I was coming to visit,  he waited until I got there for the study so I could witness it.  I am so glad that he did.  As I sat and watched my son read the Word, quote scripture and talk about how the Lord is working in his life, I was overcome with gratitude.  I felt gratitude for the work I see Christ doing in my son’s heart and mind.  I was grateful that my son is able to feel "normal" again without the use of drugs.  Four months ago he could barely function without being high.  I felt humbled as I watched my son share his story and try to help others from the lessons he is learning.  It was truly an answer to my prayers, even beyond my expectations.

            The Bible study group he led was small. There were only about 5 of them, all of them lost souls trying to find their way back to sanity.  As the guys who chose not to join in buzzed around about their own business, cracking jokes and being rowdy, my son sat there quietly oblivious to all the commotion, speaking God’s word. 

            Even if, at some point down the road, my son stumbles and relapses, I will treasure my visit to him on Saturday for the rest of my life.  For just that moment in time, I had my son back.  He was whole, and healthy, and wanting to help others and serve the Lord.  Priceless.  Thank you Lord, for helping my son to  remember what it is like to find peace without drugs, and to help others through his suffering.

Jas 1:12: Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.

Worry

“Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow; it only saps today of its strength.”   A.J.  Cronin

            One of the character defects that I’m working on is my tendency to worry.  Right now things are going well with my son’s rehab.  He is working hard on their program and learning a lot about himself and addiction.  He’s even taken it upon himself to lead a Bible study with one of the other guys there.  Better yet, his counselor approved him for the reintegration program, which would allow him to stay in rehab another 28 days while looking for a job.  I don’t think his counselor would have approved him for reintegration if he didn’t think my son is trying hard to learn how to stay clean.  We’ll have to talk to his attorney and make sure it’s ok for him to stay for reintegration, but if he approves it, he’ll be able to stay there right up until his court date.  The way I look at it, the longer he can stay there, the better.

            Here’s the deal though with me.  Everything is going well with his rehab, but still I catch myself feeling anxious and worrying about the future.  I worry about him finding a temporary job.  I worry about whether his car will hold up, as it’s not in very good shape.  I worry what will happen to all of the progress he has made if he is sentenced to prison.  I just can’t seem to completely stop these thoughts from entering my mind.  There is progress in that I am getting better at catching those negative thoughts sooner, and realizing how futile it is to worry.  Old habits die hard though. Even when I was a child I was a worrier.  I know this sounds neurotic, but I thought that somehow if I worried about something enough I could find a way to keep it from happening.  Or, if I couldn’t stop it from happening, I’d be more prepared to deal with it.  I know now that I have wasted countless, hours and even days, worrying about the future, and in doing so, I have forfeited any enjoyment I may have had in the present.  It’s crazy.

             God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and  wisdom to know the difference.

Relinquishing control.....or trying anyway

I was typing a response to a kind comment Erin had left on a previous post, and after I wrote it I started really thinking about what I had said.  In essence what I wrote was, that I have to trust God with my son’s recovery because He loves my son even more than I do.  When things have seemed crazy and out of control, I sometimes forget that God sees the big picture and I only see my very small corner.  He understands our pain. He weeps when we weep, and rejoices with us in even our smallest victories over the pain of this life.  We are not alone.

            One thing I really need to get into my head is that I am not in control of the universe.  I cannot control my son’s or anybody else’s choices.  I have a really hard time with that. The only real peace I have found in the past few months comes when I have been able to realize that my son’s recovery, or non-recovery,  is up to him and then just letting go.  

My visit to rehab

I went to visit my son at rehab Sunday.  It was good to see him and he looked better than he has in a very long time.  He’s put on some weight and his skin isn’t that sickly gray color any more.  He told me he’s learning a lot about addiction and how insidious it is, so at least I know he’s listening to what they have to say.  His counselor feels like my son suffers from anxiety and depression (they both run in our family) so he started him on a couple prescriptions. 

             He’s starting to look and sound like my son again, instead of that person who was walking around in my son’s body but acting like somebody I didn’t know.  I know it’s too soon to expect that he’s been “cured,” but it’s so good just to have my son back.  I’ve missed him so much.  He’s starting to realize how he has hurt the people who love him and is trying to make amends and be accountable for his actions. That, in itself, is huge progress.  I’m glad he’s apologizing to us, because I think doing so will help free him from some of the guilt he lives with.  I know some people don’t think addicts are capable of feeling guilt, but I think they do, it’s just buried underneath the addiction.  I think often the guilt and shame they feel over their actions is part of the reason they use.  It’s a vicious cycle. They know they’re messing up and hurting people, so they use to numb the pain.  The more they use, the more that pain festers inside.

           

            His treatment will probably only last 28 days.  This place has a reintegration program where the guys can get a job while continuing to live in the facility for another 60 days.  Since my son has a court date in September though and will probably be sentenced to some prison time, I don’t think he’ll be eligible for the longer stay.  Twenty-eight days doesn’t seem like much when I think of the enormity of the addiction, but it is what it is.  I have to look at this as an opportunity for him to at least learn some tools to fight the temptations that he will inevitably face.  If there ever was a time for me to trust God, this would be it.  One day at a time.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding."

~ Proverbs 3:5