Last summer my son made his only real attempt at sobriety and sadly it lasted only about a week or two. During the time I thought he was clean, I volunteered to go to court with him. He was facing a felony grand theft charge and still wanting to protect him from his own destruction and the consequences of his actions, I went to court with him to support him. I believed he was clean at the time. I let him spend the night at our home for the first time in many months so we could go to court together early the next morning. He had just moved into a sober living environment. It was very shortly after that we got the call from the house manager to tell us they found needles in his room and he was being kicked out. He tried to deny everything with conspiracy theories in typical addict bullshit. Part of me actually wanted to believe him but all the red flags were there even before that call. Right or wrong to go snooping, I needed proof. I went into the room he had spent the night in at my house. I found a cigar box with needles. Were they left there from months before we kicked him out? No - that room had been cleared out of all drug paraphernalia. Did he really just shoot up heroin in my house the night before we went to court? The shock of it all sent me reeling again. Any denial I was trying to hold on to was swept away.
I picked up his journal - the one he has carried through it all, so dirty, even with blood stains on wore out dirty pages and a sticky note that said read at your own risk - and it was all right there. He had been lying and using again and even wrote about how he stole something from another department store the day before we were headed to court on the other charge. In all his crazy drug rambling writings there was this one little poem that said it all. I took a picture of it on my phone. From time to time I read it. It gives me hope. It says it all.
Tons of remorse
Yet I don't repent
With fleeting curiosity
Wonder what it meant
Tomorrow I hope to try
It is the last line he wrote that gives me hope. In the midst of his addicted insanity, somewhere in there he too hopes.
I did finally get a text from him about a week and a half ago - it was 10 days after I sent him one saying simply that I love him and know he can get better after the no show on mothers day. It said "I just wanted to tell you I love you too mom". Okay good, relief, he's alive and I can go about my life.
So now we have entered that period of silence again where I wonder when I will next hear from my son. Since the beginning of this year there has been little contact from him at all. When I am in my crazy mode, I obsess with what he may be doing out there, addicted and suffering, homeless, cold, hungry. I worry endlessly about the what ifs. On my crazy days, I have to fight an internal battle to go pick him up off the streets and talk sense into him.
Today, feeling so much healthier, I am calm and at peace for the silence of no contact as it means my life is addiction chaos free for now. I stop the obsessive thoughts when they start and don't let them continue on.
This week brought a major change for the better in my career and I was able to really focus on my job. It felt great to go to work each day and throw myself into something I love and am good at. I actually transferred locations to the same town my son has been hanging out in last I knew of his whereabouts anyways, and so far I have been able to resist any temptation to go looking for him. I hope I can stay strong and my crazy days will continue to happen less and less and the healthier ones come more. This plan for me with my company had been in the works long before my son was roaming the streets homeless there and is an amazing opportunity for me. I was able to make this last week about a wonderful career opportunity and stay focused on that - not my son. It felt great.
Instead of helplessness, today I am hopeful.