Category: Moments in the day…

Life continues to roll tide. One minute you have the illusion of peace, and the next, the reality of confusion.

There was a time when I lived in tomorrows: I now yearn for yesterday. Where loss was not at every turn.Where goodbyes were not around every corner

Though I am courageously walking through these changing seasons, it is not without fear. It exists and is my constant companion hiding just behind the mask. Tears fall, but no one glimpses. Cries tell, but no one listens. Sadness and rage envelop me, but no one notices.

If ever before I felt such profound grief, it was not until now that I understood loss. Anguish starts before the defeat. Sorrow begins with the downfall. Desperation builds in the onset. Long before the circumstance, you feel the consequences.

To never recognize the moments before they would become the memories after is the cruelest of realizations. These days I question what matters and realize it’s all relevant.

Does it make a difference not really!! With or without understanding it occurs. With or without acceptance, it ensues. With or without change, it happens!!

Sometimes, no correction more times than not we are handed a journey. We don’t know where because that would take away from the why.

We are just to proceed and as we go navigate all the hills and valleys before us. there’s no map to this. No instructions. Just go!

In my travels, I have been taken through a wide variety of terrain. Some I’ve had to climb. Some I’ve had to fight to stay afloat. Most I’ve had to accept I may not make it.

My ideal was id conquer and if I didn’t that meant I failed. At the point, you feel you have failed you have two roads you can go down. One, give up. Two try another direction.

My personality is to not give up but to go down a different direction. Struggle and persevere no matter what it takes.

I’ve learned it’s better to give up some times than to keep trying to find the right manner of achievement. It may just be that the act of giving up is the only route you can take to get to the other side. To get to where you were suppose to be to begin with and in trying to fight against the notion of failure is where you failed.

Most journeys are to teach us something but in our stubbornness, we fight against ideals. The picture-perfect success! What we fail to see is that accomplishment isn’t always wrapped into a nice big bow of success.

Sometimes the loss we perceive is in reality, the truth we needed to fulfill the journey we were meant to reach, to begin with.

Today as I drove my son back from rehabilitation for his brain injury he asked why this happened to him? What is the reason? Knowing how quickly he would lose that thought. I took a few seconds to think how can I answer this that would make sense and maybe give the resolution I know he seeks.

So I asked him why can’t an addict live without drugs? Of course, the answer was because I’m an addict, So I expanded the question, once you come out of addiction, why is it so hard to live in a drugless world? He just sat there thinking. Finally, after several moments of silence, he said, “we don’t know how to.”

That is when I saw my opportunity to have a sincere conversation with my son, not the addict. I explained that once an addict starts using drug’s they are no longer able to learn life lessons. The things that would naturally be taught by trial and error are missed opportunities to learn. Without those occasions to learn, you never get to the reasons why and without the reason why there is no motive to change the behavior.

We expect the addict to suddenly not be an addict once the substance is gone and abruptly start living as we do. Think and function as if the blueprint of life has been laid before them.

Addicts have to relearn or rather learn all the things they missed. When life seems too hard after trying sobriety they go back to what they know “drugs”.

Made sense to my son so therefore I told him the answer to your question is. Within the struggle you will learn a lesson and in that, you will find the reason.

Quiet mornings to reflect on my life. Things have not went as planned but do they ever? Years of drugs with my sons have come at such a cost. i am lucky in that I still have all of them. Some parents aren’t as lucky. Challenges of now caring for my youngest who is now disabled are bittersweet. Drugs are gone. No more moment by moment fear of if and or when I’d get “that call” are now replaced with round the clock care and medications.

My sons condition is not entirely based on drugs but was made worse by them. I knew he’d have to be stopped one way or another and whether you believe in God or not I choose to believe God stepped in and stopped him and allowed us to still have him. The challenges he faces now are endless and may never recover fully but what will he learn from it?

My hope is courage! Patience! Gratitude and this maybe realization that this is not the life we envisioned but none the less still has a life and purpose. With drugs out of the way that purpose can come forward and maybe he can live for once through hope instead of despair.

My hopes and dreams for him have changed and I realize that maybe letting myself grieve for what could have been has opened new doors for new dreams. A do over the that can be more beautiful than the life we were living.

God has shown me this was not just for him. That my role in the addiction has prepared me for my role as caregiver. Challenging as it is, it’s not much different than during active addiction. Its how we meet these challenges in life that make the difference in it becoming a curse or blessing.

I have been stopped also. Forced to see my part in the curse but now allowed to be a part of the blessing. The absolution!

As we go through these dark waters I will continue as hard as it is sometimes to keep swimming. Keep my head and my sons above the surging waves of life and what that is now.

Quiet mornings are moments to reflect, accept and persevere. So we continue to let go to hang on!!

Struggling with how much of my life, I should allocate to my addicts? Trying to keep that healthy balance of being a mom and being an addict’s mom is a conflict within that only parents of addicts can relate too.
Parenting is not the same because anything you do for an addict most times only furthers the addiction. Even with the most innocent intentions, any helping hand becomes a way for them to advance in their world.
The turmoil I feel daily is heart-wrenching. I am determined to allow growth, and day by day, it becomes clearer to do that means truly letting go.
How can I let my baby go? Watch him flounder? Drown in the waves of addiction while I suffocate under the weight of codependency. When does this stop? Where does it end?
After 16 years and three sons all going through addiction, One or all of them always in the grip of dependency at any given time, I have learned that any expectation I have is probably too much for what they can do.
And any presumption they have for me is probably something I shouldn’t do.
So the merry go round continues. I recognize it only takes one of us to jump off for the revolving to stop. That doesn’t mean the chaos ceases. Usually, that only fuels the anger from my addict and the guilt from me. There is so much more to addiction that the abuse of a drug. That is where it starts, but for it to continue, there have to be many more players. Like dominoes one after the other falling down addiction, recovery, relapse. Addiction, recovery, relapse on and on and on.
And anyone can get sucked into the tornado of it all. One of many casualties caught up in the whirlwind and tossed out as debris.
Damaged and broken, I continuously pick myself up and carry on to try and forge a path towards a new life, the life I keep forgetting. Mine!
Stuck between what has been and what could be my devotion in question and my faith tested.
It’s crazy as dysfunctional as it has been in the last 16 years when things are relatively healthy I am at my worst. I can feel a change coming, so I’m never able to be at ease in the calm. I look for the chaos almost welcome it at times. The anticipation of this disease returning is worse than the turmoil that inevitably comes.
So how much is ok to give away? What part of me is left?
Then I realized Of all the things I have lost, nothing taken had has not been rebuilt or replaced.
Confidence replaced uncertainty.
The weakness renewed with strength.
Ignorance repaired with understanding.
Empathy restored indifference.
So back to the original question, how much of my life do I give to my addicts? I guess the answer is I don’t give them my life I help support them finding theirs!!!

Given the situation we find ourselves in these past few days, I wonder if we can genuinely ever shift our focus from our problems with our addicts to our country. Or does it make it worse?
I am blessed to know where my children are, and they are safe for once.  I’ve seen so many parents having to not only agonize about their children within their addiction, but now how safe are they out there?

Corona Virus gives new meaning to the stress of tough love, and those who have had no other choice but to exercise this,  pushed to the limits of what a parent can handle.
The stigma of care for addicts always being in question; they must now face the uncertainty of how to contend with being sick and the risk of getting sick.
The choice to seek out treatment for this horrible virus plaguing our country is assuredly the last thing our children are concerned with while suffering from addiction.  All of us who live inside the wall of addiction or the effects if it knows the choices we must make.  They must choose to be well or sick. We have to decide whether we can let them.
How much more can we take? I know without a doubt if my son were out running arm and arm with this new threat, I would be out there running with my addiction to save him.
This thought brings me to us!!! how can we stay “sober.” How do we abstain? If having our fix means letting them have a fix so that we can keep them near and safe from a new predator. Are we giving another chance to achieve sobriety or another reason for using it?  Or do we let consequences be consequences and let them choose which devil they are willing to dance with?
I’m so angry we have to make these decisions.  At a time when we should be holding our loved ones close. When others can hold tight together in a crisis, we have limited options and even less control.
I am praying for every one of our addicts as well as all of us who have to fight even harder right now for some peace of mind in the face of this new threat.
#insiderockbottomisprayingwithyou

Laying in bed and trying to relax from a busy weekend and I hear an all too familiar sound—yelling and slamming of doors. My quiet, peaceful night Is interrupted by arousing anger. I half expect this to happen. It’s never a surprise, yet as soon as I hear chaos, I start to shake inside. My mind starts racing. Is it just a bad night? Is this a problem I will need to fix?
Is all hell about to break loose?
I don’t even want to know as I’m trying so hard to let others handle their issues, but I can’t help but be so paranoid I feel I need to jump in and fix whatever has begun. Stop it before it becomes a snowball out of control.
I decided just to let be whatever it is and try to work on myself and my need to get involved in anything and everything that goes on. I ask myself, is anyone asking for your help right now?
Does this involve you? How can I create a calm environment amid turmoil? Of course, my tactic to accomplish this is not rocket science.  I move to the farthest area of my home from the disturbance, turn the tv up as loud as I can stand it, turn my phone face down, ringer off and pretend I’m on another planet far far away. Scared, I may still see the light on my phone illuminate I turn away and face the other direction.
I am now holding safe. Or so I thought!
As I lay there a slave to circumstance, I ask myself, who is really safe? Is it possible to create a safe zone among the distress this always causes me? Then it hits me by cutting off all my avenues of the outside world. I am keeping myself a victim. This isn’t my drama, yet here I lie quivering inside at the slightest movement that may mean I will have to confront a situation. Face a long night of stress, Put on the mask of confidence. Cry behind the smile.
So torn between wanting to turn the tv down, check my phone, walk outside see if the moment has passed yet not wanting to get pulled in, I suddenly noticed time had passed by. So caught up in my self induced prison in my mind; I hadn’t realized nothing was going on. Whatever had happened had subsided. No one needed me. My fear was unnecessary.
How quickly I can go from peace to panic. This is a mom who has dealt with too much!! So many of us do, and my hope is one day we can stay in our peace no matter what panic may try to rear its ugly head.

TO HANG ON WE MUST LET GO…..

Today I am reflecting on what I have learned most from my addicts. Sixteen years of watching this dreaded disease consume my babies and almost destroy our family. As much as we have overcome and endured this terrible illness, we are not without scars; they are many and deep. Somedays they still devour my sprit. Leave me empty and longing for peace that I fear I will never have entirely. On some level, I have accepted that the anxiety is as much a part of me as the illness is to them, but every day, I hope for harmony among my emotions.
When you deal with this day in and day out, and after so many years, you have to try to find some meaning in it all. The question of “why us” and the reasons elude me, so I’ve given up on that, but if I can come to some compromise with my inner self, that all we’ve gone through wasn’t for nothing. Maybe that calm I crave will follow.
Focusing on what I’ve have gained throughout this process, which I’m sure I would not have learned otherwise, is acceptance. Acceptance has been my building block for patience; patience has led me to forgiveness; forgiveness moves me to hope. Even with continued chaos around me, learning that has led me to a more serene existence. I no longer expect or demand perfection in achieving abstinence.  I no longer assume or require what my sons are not ready to give. More often than not, we are met with disappointment when they cannot meet my expectations.
I let my sons define their road to recovery, and I have solace in any step taken is walking towards the path to sobriety.
I have finally gotten after 16 years, a lot of patience, deeper forgiveness, and an abundance of hope that we will overcome no matter where we are in the battle.
What they have taught me in the most despairing times in their lives, I hope to give back in the rest of mine.

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.

Dear Mom,
You are weak. Your world is not as bright as it once was. Optimism is no longer your armor. You faced the unimaginable and are still standing, but the wounds you carry are profound. Now expected to move on as if…. As if life is forgiving. As if love is enough, but you know it’s not. You are numb. Unable to feel for feeling too much for too long. Emotionally you are dead, but any little trigger can awaken your panic. Crushing under the weight of your expectations, you are slow to rise. Weary of standing. Scared to move that you will be exposed and forced to endure yet another crisis because just as they are to their disease, you are their prey.

You are sad. You’ve seen the face of death in what was once life. You watched a familiar face ravaged by the addiction. You’ve weathered each attack, but fear another will make you fall. Your strength and determination, once your steady footing is now your crutch.

You are angry. Forced to live in a system where it fails the one you most want to save. You’ve become bitter and resentful of the authority that should be safe. Leary of even the most genuine concern, you keep everyone at arms distance. No one is dependable or worthy of your trust. Yet you long for anyone that can break through the wall you’ve built

You are alone, yet surrounded by many. You feel unloved and misunderstood. Judged for being sympathetic. Pitied for being compassionate.  So scared of the darkness of being alone, yet you crave the solitude.

Oh, mom, in as much as you have fought this battle is not yours. The casualties of loving an addict reach far. Damage is just as extensive to you as your loved one.  To have any chance of recovery for either to hang on you must let go.

Where do emotions meet reality?
Once hand in hand now they these two have gotten twisted and confused. Happy good thoughts are over-shadowed with dark, scary feelings.
Facing uncertain outcomes, they play against each other, distorting what is real into what I perceive.  Once optimistic now i realize everything is not possible.
Its such a mind game, and I know its all in my head. Reality is the truth. Emotions are consequences. Distinguishing between the two is not easy, and when you’ve dealt with addiction, this is sometimes hard to discern.
Mothers usually follow their hearts. We were created to comfort and nurture. When addiction forces us to go against nature, we are the ones left disoriented. With our life unrecognizable, we are lost. Not knowing which way to turn, we grasp and fall into our loved one’s world. Trying to save any part of them, we have lost ourselves.
I did not realize I was lost until I was so deep in I did not know how to get out.
It’s only now that I realize the only way for me to face reality is to ignore my emotions. I almost have to look at my sons when they are in their addictions as if they are not my sons — bringing clarity and a better vantage point of what to do. It takes the emotions out of logic. Easy to say, not so easy to do, and I haven’t been able to master this yet, but I keep going one foot in front of the other, trying to stay afloat of this ever raging storm that continues to grow in my mind.

The stigma of addiction and the ignorance that follows it is almost as bad as the disease itself. Anyone who takes time to understand the disease would see NO ONE wants to wake up one day and be an addict. Why would they?
You are having to wake up and hussell. Lying to everyone, you love, so no one knows what you’re doing — resorting to stealing. Desperate to stop it just for a little while. To lose your job, then your home. Only to live in your car that eventually that also is gone.  Walking the streets being judged all you can think of is how to get the next fix. Your last concern isn’t that you haven’t eaten, drank anything or showered in several days.
You long to be judged, thought of as trash. Family ostracized as if they didn’t raise you right. Known and targetted by local cops. Never accomplishing or moving forward in life and starting over only to lose again and again.
You dreamed of being in the local crack house. Midnight trips to your drug dealer, dodging raids, shooting up in random parking lots.
You want Hepatitis, HIV, STDS. Damage caused to the heart, lungs, liver. Abscesses from injections gone wrong. Trips to the emergency room for infections. You are treated as if you don’t deserve treatment because after all your just a drug addict.
Wanting to be called junkie, trash, drug addict, crack head, tweaker all the wonderful pet names we are so fondly called.
Yes! This is what you envisioned in your life when you were little. I wish people who have not been closely affected could look at this and ask themselves how would they want their child, husband, mother, spouse treated if it were them.
I know for me when I see someone judging my son — looking at him like he’s less of a person. Wishing hed just disappear and hoping his problems don’t affect them I pity them.
Even as a drug addict, my son has compassion. Understanding. Empathy for people who also struggle. He doesn’t judge you for judging him. He doesn’t look down on you for being less than what God calls us to be. In my book, even though he struggles, he has what we all should strive for — the strength to overcome. The ambition to keep trying. Love and forgiveness because he knows despair.
Next time you see a drug addict standing on the corner looking like life has kicked them around just remember we are all one step away from some tragedy, disease or life event that may take our life down a path we never imagined or asked for. Realize that you and your loved ones are not immune to this fight and that God sees them no different than he sees you.

 

Is it ok to expect a “normal” life at some point when you have addict children? Lately, I am struggling with wanting peace. I am starting to run from drama where usually that would be my signal to charge in and fix.
Sixteen years of addiction, finances, relationships impacted, and some ruined. Health issues, mental and physical lying, manipulating, stealing, cops, jail, and on and on and on. When is enough?
I think I have finally hit my limit. I know this is what we all work towards either in Alanon or with a counselor. We strive for the day we are ok with stepping aside and putting us first. Letting their consequences be theirs and not our outcome.
Why does there have to be a choice me or them????
I remember early in my son’s addictions, where I was bouncing back and forth from one to the other — trying to fix, not knowing what to do — motherly instinct fighting against common sense.

One day I went home after one of my son’s had called me cause he left drugs in my coat pocket and I wore that coat to work. I quickly raced home to get rid of it. My common sense said, flush it!! But when my son called and said he had to have it back because who he owed it to would come looking for him I gave it back no questions. When he left, i completely fell apart. I couldn’t stop crying. Never went back to work. Wanted out of all if it but not knowing how. I’ve had so many days like that since but it has taken me all this time to realize this was not supposed to be my life, and at that time, I accepted that and thought I had no choice. Now I see there was always a choice.
And those choices should not based on their presumed reactions.
I should be free to say NO, I cannot and will not accept this anymore. Is it ok to be alone in peace than to be distressed together?
I suppose each of us has to figure that out for ourselves. The key is to not judge ourselves so harshly for wanting that right. I will never leave my son’s. I love them no matter where they are in addiction or recovery, but I want my life. I don’t need the constant stress. Don’t want the all-consuming anger nor the round the clock worry. Where every minute is dictated by how they are doing, having a good day depends on whether they are or if  I can ignore everything that goes on or as usual give in so I might have a few moments of peace.
I think I have gone through enough. I have lost enough. Felt enough and have missed enough. Maybe if I permit myself to have a life they will see they can too.

Watching my grandson grow is bittersweet. So many things remind me and re-live within my memories of my son — his curious and imaginative nature. From slaying a dragon to transforming into a t-rex, he is who he becomes. He can fly in the sky or float on a cloud. His creative energy shows through with such animation; I know that he will and can be whoever he chooses as he grows. He’s so independent yet if something threatens the safety of his three-year-old world, he does not hesitate to come running, arms wide open for a cuddle: a safe word or much-needed hug.
For me being a grandma is a chance to re-visit what I miss: re-teach lessons and guide growth. Help mold his character while nurturing his personality. Letting him step away but always there to step up should he need me.
Being reminded where my son started and where he is now has made this especially hard. I’m torn with my emotions. Half the time I cherish these moments with my grandson and the other half are just a tragic reminder of what was. Expectations of what I was sure would be a beautiful life I’ve had to accept now was never mine to have.
I wish this were as easy with my son. Now I’m forced to step back and let my son experience his life for what it is now.
I think that is the most significant misleading notion as parents that we have. Assuming they will and can live up to what we believe they will be. I have learned success is in the eye of the beholder and is different for most.
Some chase a career. Some want the American dream. I simply want a happy, healthy son who loves himself as much as I love him. To me, that would be a success.
In the meantime, I will cherish my grandson and all the ways he is my son and appreciate as I hold him, I am keeping my son a little bit closer.

For B…I love you!

Ah ha moment…. doing things for your addict that they can do for themselves. So were told in Alanon that anything they can do for themselves we should not be doing for them. I did not realize how much I was doing for my addict. From simple everyday things to more extravagant things. Not only did this reinforce my habit of saving my addict but it also taught him nothing about life and everything in self destruction.

He became incapable of making decisions about life and I became obsessed in making his for him. I would not let my addict think for himself and although I did not see this at the time I can look back now and see how detrimental this was for his development yet successful for his addiction.

I had to start takin conscious efforts to stop my behavior if I had any hopes in changing his. Lessons most parents take for granted are not easy as an addicts parent. If we pay there rent or don’t expect rent from them when they can pay we are hurting their ability to be self reliant. When we feed them when they are able to feed themselves we are starving them of their capabilities of taking care of basic needs. When we provide a place in our lives for people, places and play things  we are allowing addiction to continue for them and affect us. As hard as it is we have to stop all fundamental help! By stopping basic necessities as well as luxuries we alter their means to be able to support their disease. They then must choose between feeding a life or feeding the addiction.

At first they will choose addiction. I have seen this time and time again with my own. They will become meaner we become bitter. That help isn’t always monetary it can be an attitude, a mood. It can be perspective or perseverance. It can and will change the reflection you see in the mirror as it transforms them. We trade insults, harsh words. Become angry and spiteful as they fight for us to stay entangled in them. But as we reinforce healthier choices by not providing the means, stop reassuring or mimicking the behaviors that allow them to continue addiction they learn life is about consequences. If you choose drugs over food you goo hungry. If you choose drugs over rent you go unsheltered. If you choose disrespect you lose respect. Trust follows and eventually love is affected. In short addicts need help to continue.

When we stop playing tug of war they have no choice but to drop the rope. Once we alter our behavior we can love the person hate the addict. Separate our child from the disease and us from the addict.

They will struggle. They will fall. They will hate and blame us! teaching responsibility to a child is not easy. Teaching it to an addict takes strength and courage.  As we choose not to provide them a life we initially gain guilt and fear as our consequence.  In time they learn healthier coping skills and we get comfortable being uncomfortable. We start to live each day for us and despite them or where they are in their addiction we see the light again. One day they will see the light if we stop accompanying them in darkness.

We never know if what we don’t do is going to make a difference in recovery but we do know what we have done has made a difference in the addiction.

I will not promote addiction with help but will fight for recovery in abstinence.

To hang on we must let go….

To breathe….

To breathe is to know for this moment he is ok. For this time, he is safe. For this minute he is sober. I am finally able to take a breath. As hard as is it to relax in my mind. Still waiting for the shoe to fall I am cautiously optimistic this is the beginning of the end. He has taken me places I never thought I would go. We are much more capable than you think to go in their darkness. We will follow our children to any end and then ask why??? Question how??? Wonder what??? I prided myself on being the great protector. Then I turned into one of the greatest obstacles. I Became a destroyer in sheep’s clothing. I did not intend or see this happening. My intentions were to save but my actions only aided him and deceived me. I was the darkness in every corner. The shadow following him around. The reaper handing him the tool. I was his enabler….

All addicts have an enabler. Who that is depends. Who is predestined in the need to please. When our self-esteem is so low our value is only in who we can save and what we can do in other’s lives. Our lives become less and less and in truth never meant that much. We learned young our value was in our works not in us. We took on so many different faces. The protector, the savior, the fixer the caregiver. Never worthy unless we had one of those masks on. We thrived on the praise and recognition but in that self-respect died. The perfect storm for the addict where love turns to death.

I haven’t been able to breath in many years maybe never. From abuse to self-destruction to the time bomb going off in my life being detonated by their addiction I suffocate under the pressure of being perfect.

Today while my son learns to exhale I learn to breath.

To hang on we must let go….

Woke up today just thanking God for the bad….That’s not easy when you deal with an addict. You can either dwell on the bad or be grateful for the good. I am realizing I am more grateful for the bad than the good.

Without the bad I may have never learned how to cope with this. Without the bad I may never know how strong I am. May never know I am enough. I can do this. I can overcome. I can make it. Loved as much as I could. Hated when I should. Fought as hard as I have. Walked away when I’ve needed to. Came running when I had to.

Without the bad I wouldn’t have found you. Wouldn’t know how to help. Wouldn’t know when you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to fight for you. Wouldn’t appreciate the chaos around us or the calm within us. Without the bad I wouldn’t be who you need me to be and I wouldn’t need you!

Thank you god for the bad because It brought me so much good.

 

Is it him or me? I ask myself this question daily. Is it my enabling or his addiction. My codependency or his manipulation. I’m so tired and yet day in and day out I use the last bit of energy I have to fight for him. Never able to give up on him i have traded my life for his.  I’ve noticed that no matter how bad he gets I am the one who seems to suffer the side effects of his disease. I carry all the emotions, shoulder all the consequences. He is frozen in his addiction. Time marching on as if there’s no end and for me, it stands still. I’m paralyzed in fear of what may come so I try desperately to prevent losing my son. So consumed I never see not only am I still losing him,  I am slowly dying myself.  I rarely recognize who i am anymore. I cant let go of him but have completely lost myself. I wonder how could I not see me disappearing as his addiction took center stage of our lives?

An addict isn’t just an addict alone. They have a whole team of players. The game becomes all-consuming, strategic moves for all involved and before you know it both have lost. They did not reach this stage without help. No matter how unintentional you have shifted from opponent to adversary. I am guilty of this in my son’s addiction. I saw his addiction as my personal failure and that sent me into a mission of being his savior and down a  long road of defeat, fear, guilt and finally acceptance. I have started to realize. It’s not him! it’s me!! It’s I who needs to change. It’s me who needs to evolve. It’s not me who can help him.  I need to change how I feel, how I help, how I listen. Overlooking the answers because they’re, not the answers I want.

Instead of expecting and waiting to see my son change I will ask God what can I do to change me. How can I line my prayers with his answers? Today I am reaching for comprehension. Asking God for discernment. Help me, help me!!

 

Can the thinking stop. It’s constant. I can be busy, not busy doesn’t matter my mind never turns off. I’m in my world one sec and years away in another moment I thought I had forgotten. Reliving an event with so much clarity I am visibly shaking. Why do these memories haunt me? Can I escape the turmoil we have gone through and move forward to a more peaceful life? or am I destined to stay trapped in these reminders.

This is crazy and makes me feel so crazy. I know it’s my mind just trying to deal with all I’ve been through and I can tell myself that logically but emotionally it takes such a toll every time I visit an event I try so hard to move past. My heart beats out of control. I start sweating and always crying follows. I just want to race out of the building into the street and scream. Panic attack at its best!

What do I do in these moments I try to remind myself I’m ok. I’m not dying even though it feels like I may at any moment and honestly sometimes that’s not a scary thought for me. At times I find comfort in thinking maybe there’s a way out. That I can rest and not have this daily struggle with my mind. That this stress and obsessive worry can be stopped. Is that wrong? For me no. For everyone who loves me yes! We have lost so much already how can I think maybe that would be better for them. It’s a selfish thought so I snap back to reality and know the answer isn’t to stop living but to stop living for my addict’s. To step out from behind their addictions and walk back into my life. Stay present and learn to pause!!!

As he lay on the bathroom floor, needle near him. Belt still wrapped around his arm begging for me to make this stop I flashed back to him as a baby. The endless nights of colic and wondering will we get through this time. I remember feeling helpless as he cried and nothing I did would sooth him. So many moments as a mother you feel this deep aching to want to fix, just to stop the pain and everything would be okay.

But some things are not in your ability to fix and as I watch my precious son fighting his will against the drug as he lay on my cold bathroom floor, crying and begging me to help him, I know that this fight must come from within him. All I can do is hold him. Let him know he’s not alone and Hope he feels the love I have for him. Praying somehow my love can spread from my heart to him for himself I just hold on. Holding back crying as tears flood my eyes. Wanting him to only see the strong mom. The one who can handle this. I must reach so far inside myself rising above us that I can look down and disassociate from the pain.

He feels so small in my arms. Grown man only in years, still so much a boy he has wasted away to almost nothing. Arms littered with marks. Eyes sunken in. color ashen. Almost doesn’t look human. And if not for the weeping I wouldn’t even know he is still with me. I know this battle is waging hard inside him but as he looks up at me I still see my son in there fighting. Pleading with every tear that falls down his cheek to save him. So, I just hang on. I whisper, “I love you” I’m here” and he calms down and releases the pain and guilt. For this moment he is peaceful and feels safe.

I feel safe I have him and can relax in the satisfaction that for right now I am mom and he’s my son. He’s my blue-eyed boy. Asking for redemption. Expecting no mercy. But in a mom’s heart there’s only grace and forgiveness and he is coddled in that and for every moment I can give that to him I feel we have won that second of this fight. Even if it’s only that brief time stops and we have won.

When he flees and isn’t near me I will hold onto this memory and cherish what I could do for him the drug could not and one day I believe he will return to what is instinct and we will win all these moments

As Christmas approaches my anxiety has taken hold, followed by panic attacks I know my mind and emotions are anticipating a stressful holiday. However, I am grateful no matter what is going on that at least I have family to share happiness and if needed tears with. So many of us suffer in silence and usually that’s how I handle it but this year I am determined to stop the struggle and embrace the strength you gain from family. To openly enjoy and not secretly hate what the holidays have represented in the most recent years. I want to just allow myself to feel. Whatever feelings come up are welcomed and whatever emotions present I will work through.

The guilt and shame of what if I had done this or could have done that is hard to not place on myself especially during this time. The responsibility I feel for my child although misplaced is so overwhelming, and steals any joy I could be experiencing. I forget what it’s like to just relax and enjoy. Although I pray for calm seas embracing that is not always easy. My soul and mind are in a constant state of unwanted thoughts and worry. The quiet can be so deafening and sadly and more confusing is my ease will come with the next explosion of chaos. That is where I’m used to thriving. Should my fears prove to be true any time I have with them is at least time and another chance to love.

They do not have to be where I want them to receive that love and it should not be a prerequisite. Loving them where they’re at is the key!! More importantly giving myself the gift of love and permission to let go maybe the difference in Bah Humbug and Ho Ho Ho!!

 

When I get overwhelmed, I need to remember what I cant carry God will. I do not have to go it alone. God promises Grace and Mercy, and I will extend that to my child in the midst of his addiction.

Seeing your child go through addiction is paralyzing. You play the what if’s in your mind and often blame yourself. If I had done this or that… maybe!  Reality is nothing you did or can do is the cause or cure of any addiction. Realizing that one fact may help you and could very well save your child. It’s parallel between love and hate and your desperate need to rescue and the addicts to use. To wake up every day and know this is just another replay of the previous day,  and a precursor to the next is often the cycle that keeps an addict hopeless.

By the time most realize this, it’s already too late, and the damage has been done. It’s that destruction that keeps them in the twists and turns, tumbling out of control picking up anyone in the path.

We have had to reinvent our family. Never losing the closeness just stepping away when needed to allow growth. Being there for each other and going through the unimaginable has kept us in some ways stronger. Watching addiction consume my boys and devastate our family has given me a new perspective of suffering.

This kind of pain teaches you about yourself. You learn weaknesses and strengths. You feel despair but find faith. You gain hope out of hopeless.  We have lost also but with those losses come opportunities to forgive. Through forgiveness, we begin to heal, and through healing you find courage. Would you have learned empathy without adversity? Passion without indifference? If we only allow the hurt and anger without letting them develop into compassion, we will have nothing to teach when they seek.

We will heal separately but together!