Approaching my son being back with us,  I have mixed feelings. Although I’m sure any parent that has gone through this understands and has had the same feelings, I still feel guilt over not being 100% thrilled when I think of him being home.
The anticipation of seeing my baby again, the one addiction left for dead, is exciting but nerve-racking. All the what if’s I’ve been able to ignore all these months are now front and center.
My fears are accompanying any happiness, and with each moment leading up to seeing him again, I get more and more anxious.  I can only imagine how he is feeling. Not sure of what will be and how to achieve holding onto sobriety is probably my biggest concern as I know his as well.
What can I do different this time?  How do I help myself not fall into the usual pattern we struggle with every time?
What are my triggers? This neverending struggle. I push, he pulls. I so badly want this time to be different. For that magical ah-ha moment to hit him where he realizes he can stop this madness when he can take responsibility for his disease and stop making excuses for it. So the power can shift, and he can fight anything this beast throws at him.
Where does that leave me? How do I even begin getting comfortable, allowing him to have that chance? Gambling on yet another relapse by doing nothing.
Even as I type this, I can hear the codependent enabling mom rearing her ugly head, but I see her, and I recognize her voice. I know she wants to help, but she only makes it worse. I can feel her heart beating for him, but then she can’t carry life-saving oxygen for herself. For once, stop let him fall, and maybe he’ll learn to fly.
These next few days, single moments that pass into minutes and then hours, I will try to gather as much peace as I can. Remembering all I’ve learned and ready to take the hardest steps I’ve ever taken not just for me but for him as well.