<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653</id><updated>2012-03-11T11:13:20.542-07:00</updated><category term='addiction'/><category term='heroin'/><title type='text'>A mothers heart..broken by heroin</title><subtitle type='html'>Healing through the hard work of my own recovery</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-7166516782777629114</id><published>2012-03-11T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-03-11T06:29:28.354-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Friday</title><content type='html'>Friday was my son's Birthday so I called the rehab in the morning and left a message just saying tell him Happy Birthday knowing I couldn't actually talk to him. To my surprise my son called me about an hour later. He still doesn't have phone&amp;nbsp;privileges&amp;nbsp;but they bent the rules since it was his Birthday. It was soooo great to talk to him! He said he is happy and doing great and so glad he is there. I asked him if I could drop a few things off for him and he said ciggs and candy bars would be great. They give them 3 ciggs a day and he would love more - if it wasn't too much trouble otherwise no problem waiting until we can visit in a couple of weeks. He said he got a few clothing items from a donation bin so he has some shoes and shirts and was really excited about that. He virtually went in with the clothes on his back. He said they took him to the DMV to get an ID again as he hasn't had one in probably over a year and they even paid the $10 DMV fee for him. He told me checked in at 161lbs and already&amp;nbsp;weighs&amp;nbsp;173lbs! He was very skinny and malnourished upon check in day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sounded so grateful for everything about the program. That chip that addict used to carry around on his shoulder is gone..what a pleasure it was to hear this&amp;nbsp;new found&amp;nbsp;attitude!!! To have a peek into of who he is, shine through after years of a crappy attitude when using, when the whole world was out to get him, was wonderful thing for this mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad and I decided we would get him some new socks,&amp;nbsp;underwear,&amp;nbsp;smokes &amp;amp; candy and I would drop them off. Although it was&amp;nbsp;completely&amp;nbsp;out of the way, &amp;nbsp;I am so glad I did it myself as I got to see the place he is in. Wow - it's pretty amazing. It's a state/city/donation funded program in an old mansion with an amazing staff. No wonder the waiting list is so long. I felt so grateful that he was given a spot there - twice. As I walked up the first thing I noticed was a sign saying "Today is the first day of the rest of your life". Nice!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was fully prepared to just drop off the bag when a&amp;nbsp;counselor&amp;nbsp;came down to get it and decided since it was his Birthday he would call him down real quick. They called him over a PA system and pulled him right out of a meeting and next thing I knew my boy was in my arms. That hug felt so great. He already looks so much better. Healthier, clean and filling out and in his donated clothes. He was very grateful, humble and I could tell he is all about following all the rules and really invested in his recovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was a bit startled by being pulled out of his meeting as I couldn't tell him I was coming but he was smiling and very happy to see me. He did seem tired or a bit spacey or something I can't adequetly describe (not high!), but it gave me a stupid scary thought that somehow he has just destroyed his mind with all the years of drug use and he may not ever be the same again, ugh. I felt a little pit in my stomach and thought he is ruined. He may not ever recover to a healthy mind again. I need to not&amp;nbsp;over-think&amp;nbsp;it - this is very early - only 11 days clean after years of substance abuse and 3 years of hardcore heroin addiction and and I guess it will take time. More then likely it is the Methadone and as they adjust and plan for the proper dose early on, he may just seem a bit spacey and that's okay too. I&amp;nbsp;believe&amp;nbsp;in my heart that the Methadone is what is enabling him to stay this time and begin recovery so I am in full support of it and glad his recovery house supports it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was very happy to hug my boy on his Birthday and get to see where he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-7166516782777629114?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7166516782777629114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/03/birthday-friday.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/7166516782777629114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/7166516782777629114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/03/birthday-friday.html' title='Birthday Friday'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-514657120887990839</id><published>2012-03-08T04:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-03-08T04:37:44.071-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wahoo!</title><content type='html'>A huge victory to report..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is still there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day at a time - I know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is 10 days huge? He's only ever stayed 4 days. So one day at a time, I am going to enjoy the fact that my son is clean today and each day that passes is another victory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is not past his orientation period and still doesn't have phone&amp;nbsp;privileges..soooo he had a new friend from there call me to tell me he is there, doing well and he loves us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His friend told me he is ready, he isn't going anywhere..and added some humor to tell me he'd put him in a headlock if he tries to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole conversation had me grinning ear to ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to be able to talk to him and get a first visit in...I have dreamed for so long what it will be like to see my son clean, healthy and well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-514657120887990839?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/514657120887990839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/03/wahoo.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/514657120887990839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/514657120887990839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/03/wahoo.html' title='Wahoo!'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-368444395929033749</id><published>2012-02-28T05:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-28T05:27:57.437-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He made it to rehab yesterday..an emotionally exhausting day</title><content type='html'>My son entered the 6 month residential rehab yesterday. Yeah. Whew. I drove him. Then I spent the day crying. I don't even know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I invited him home Sunday and&amp;nbsp;decided&amp;nbsp;to let him stay the night to take him to check in in the morning, he was grateful. I cooked a nice meal and our immediate family was there to support him. His clean and sober girlfriend joined us as well and I let her stay the night. It all went very well. He was somber. It wasn't some joyous celebration. Just some close time together to let my son know he is loved and supported when it comes to recovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His clothes were so dirty and yet he didn't wash them - he just didn't care. As if the filth would remind him of his nightmare as he entered rehab. His dad had me give him a few pairs of his clean socks to take and I gave him a few packs of smokes. He was&amp;nbsp;appreciative. His hand was swollen from an injection site gone wrong. He looked bad. He smelled really bad. Even after a shower the smell wouldn't go away. I drove him to the city with the windows down for 2 hours. I reminded him he promised to give consent for me to get information this time and again how hard it was for me last time went he went missing. He agreed again and assured me he would. He also assured me he wasn't leaving this time. We said little on the way. I mentioned his 29th Birthday would be next week before his 14 day no contact period is up and I guess I wouldn't get to call him on his bday. He responded so down that - yeap 29 years old and look where he is. Heroin has him so beaten down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked him in, hugged him goodbye and he reassured me again he would be calling me in 14 days when he has earned his phone&amp;nbsp;privileges&amp;nbsp;and he is not leaving, he is ready. I choked out the words - I &lt;i&gt;never&lt;/i&gt; stopped&amp;nbsp;believing&amp;nbsp;in you. I got in my car and drove away and that is when the tears started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried for the relief I wanted so bad to feel - yet wouldn't let myself feel it&amp;nbsp;completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried for the hope I want to feel - yet I'm so afraid to hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried for how bad he smelled, how bad he looks. I cried for the loss of the son I had imagined he'd grow up to be. I cried for the hope that maybe he could still be that son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All day images were flashing through my mind endlessly..back and forth. The little boy on the skateboard. The junkie on the street. Back and forth. The little boy in the little league uniform. The long stringy hair. The little boy with the&amp;nbsp;Lego&amp;nbsp;cities, the swollen hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long time since I have had a day like that. I came home from work and lay down on my bed exhausted and cried some more. I don't think I'm done yet. I can still feel the choking of the tears as if the past 24 hours has created some sort of post&amp;nbsp;traumatic&amp;nbsp;stress disorder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it was time I let the tears come. And today I think I will allow myself to hope a little. After all - my son has entered rehab yesterday and that is an amazing thing to be hopeful for. And maybe there is a chance he will make it this time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-368444395929033749?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/368444395929033749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/he-made-it-to-rehab-yesterdayan.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/368444395929033749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/368444395929033749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/he-made-it-to-rehab-yesterdayan.html' title='He made it to rehab yesterday..an emotionally exhausting day'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-6210240611415104708</id><published>2012-02-23T05:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-23T05:14:27.398-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope without insanity</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure it's possible for me but I'm going to give it my best shot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The long term (6 months) residential rehab bed came through!&lt;br /&gt;(Thank you God and all my readers for your prayers).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His date is Monday..4 days to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is going to come out Sunday to hang with us, BBQ and visit before he goes in. I invited his clean and sober girlfriend over to visit as well. She is doing great, at home with her parents, going to meetings and hoping my son finds his way while not being with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am wrestling with keeping him Sunday night and driving him there Monday morning..I may need to do it to keep myself sane. I feel a renewed hope but don't want to make myself crazy EXPECTING him to actually do this. Praying it is really time. Praying he is really ready. Trying not to get caught on that roller coaster of hope and tragic disappointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His past record for detoxes and his one attempt at this same rehab is only 4 short days. I am hopeful he makes it this time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-6210240611415104708?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6210240611415104708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/hope-without-insanity.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/6210240611415104708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/6210240611415104708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/hope-without-insanity.html' title='Hope without insanity'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-7275948393178860116</id><published>2012-02-20T04:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-20T04:25:25.412-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We visited him..</title><content type='html'>We stopped in the city over the weekend and arranged to see my son. He called me in the morning very down, lonely, hungry, tired. He tried to get in the detox and they wouldn't accept him as a walk in. He needs to go through his case manager and the community center where he gets his referrals is out until Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is&amp;nbsp;believing&amp;nbsp;he will be admitted on Tuesday and hanging on day by day. He seems sure they will open the long term bed for him since his situation is pretty dire at this point. He is staying off heroin and dosing on methadone daily. He is trying to&amp;nbsp;avoid&amp;nbsp;the areas of the city that are full of his drug buddies. He says no matter how hungry he gets he won't allow himself to steal even a bag of chips because he is so afraid of getting arrested and getting another case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked...okay...not as bad as I expected. &amp;nbsp;Skinny, tired and a bit dirty. I asked him how he showers and he said he doesn't but he tries to keep washed up in public bathrooms to the best of his ability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked if we could get burgers and he ate a lot..I added a milkshake and fries for him and he ate every bite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up the courage to ask him something that has been&amp;nbsp;weighing&amp;nbsp;on me for sometime. That when he gets in to the rehab if he would please sign a consent for them to provide me information. I explained that it was incredibly difficult last time because to protect his privacy, they wouldn't even tell me he was there or that he left. It spiraled me into a 2 month search that I thought he was dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He agreed he would and seemed to understand it was hard for me but I don't think he really has any concept of how hard it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prayers for&amp;nbsp;tomorrow&amp;nbsp;that a miracle happens and that bed opens. Leaving him there on the street is again one of the hardest things I had to do but I know in my heart it is the right thing to do. The constant battle of head and heart is one a parent of an addict learns to live with over time. At least I can do what I know is right now even when it tears at my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-7275948393178860116?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7275948393178860116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/we-visited-him.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/7275948393178860116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/7275948393178860116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/we-visited-him.html' title='We visited him..'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-5197768300163819384</id><published>2012-02-16T05:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-16T05:01:21.458-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holding strong</title><content type='html'>I have spoke to my son a few times..he got a phone charger, I reloaded the phone. No&amp;nbsp;explanation&amp;nbsp;was offered in regards to super bowl&amp;nbsp;Sunday&amp;nbsp;other then he had a really bad day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had orientation at the long term residential rehab yesterday, he continues to wait on the bed to open. He is continuing on the methadone and says it is going well. Dosing is the only thing he has to look forward to each day. He continues to make his needed court appearances and case manager appointments. The court is still not mandating the residential treatment due to him&amp;nbsp;beginning&amp;nbsp;the methadone outpatient. He says he wants residential treatment for himself because he knows he needs it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter bought him lunch twice this week already. He is not staying in shelters - he says they are worse then the street. He is a mess. He is dirty. He smells bad. He rides trains and buses around and sleeps on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not bring him home to wait for the bed this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a lingering regret that I brought him home last time to wait although at the time it seemed like the right thing to do. After the month long wait last time he stayed only 4 short days. I kept asking myself if because he was home waiting, he was fed, clean, had a comfortable bed to sleep in that it contributed to his short term memory loss of how bad it is out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't do it again..but I have to keep reinforcing the idea in my mind all day because the mom in me wants to throw him in the shower and give him a home cooked meal and a bed. He needs to want it bad this time. And being dirty, hungry, tired all will&amp;nbsp;contribute&amp;nbsp;to his desire to change his life. They are the&amp;nbsp;consequences&amp;nbsp;of the life he is living and he has to want for it for it to change and for recovery to stick more then his 4 day record.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-5197768300163819384?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5197768300163819384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/holding-strong.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/5197768300163819384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/5197768300163819384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/holding-strong.html' title='Holding strong'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-409516900438132377</id><published>2012-02-06T05:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T05:39:06.512-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No idea what went wrong..</title><content type='html'>My son called me at 2pm from a borrowed phone and said he was getting on the train to head out our way in 20 minutes. He had been in the midst of another crisis - fallen asleep on a bus, woke up and his bag with all his stuff was gone. His phone was dead and his charger and wallet was in his bag. He didn't want to make a bad day worse by not coming out. He asked if the girlfriend could come too that her parents would bring her over and I said sure. He said he would borrow a phone when he arrived at the station so I could come and pay the train fare at the gate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Backtracking, my daughter had also invited to her house for Superbowl as her in-laws were coming also. But once I told her I had invited her brother over she did not want to include him in the invitation. So we decided we would stay home so I could spend the afternoon with my son, and they would have their own gathering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I calculated the time it would have took my son to arrive and decided to head to the station to wait for him. Big mistake #1. I waited until 5pm as one train after another arrived from the city and he was never on any of them. He should have been there by 3:30. I kept thinking he would be on the next one as them came in 20 minute&amp;nbsp;increments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big mistake #2 - I should have went to my daughters house to enjoy the game and gathering. Now the game is over half done, and instead of enjoying a nice day I have wasted it in sitting at a train station feeling disappointment after disappointment when each train arrived and he never appeared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what happened to him. More then likely he is just so incapable of putting one foot in front of the other. He also has a knack for getting arrested - a lot - these days. Perhaps he got picked up on his way. He never called and I am just left wondering.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-409516900438132377?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/409516900438132377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/no-idea-what-went-wrong.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/409516900438132377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/409516900438132377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/no-idea-what-went-wrong.html' title='No idea what went wrong..'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-4878593236480958885</id><published>2012-02-05T05:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-05T05:45:09.991-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Phone is back and my tearful weak moment</title><content type='html'>He has the phone back, although I have no idea about how it really doesn't matter. Yesterday I spoke with him and my heart broke. It was one of those moments many parents of addicts have felt..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has been on&amp;nbsp;methadone&amp;nbsp;for about a week or two (this is a first for him and I support it completely - finally!) and I believe he is not using heroin at the moment but has no recovery yet and I believe he continues to use every other drug on the planet. He is&amp;nbsp;waiting&amp;nbsp;for a bed again in a long term residential facility while remaining homeless. His girlfriend has remained home with her parents so he is alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His texts have hinted to the loneliness and isolation he feels. He told me how glad he is to have the phone as it is his connection to us and how much that means to him. He keeps telling me how much he misses us. How much he loves us. How much he misses his girlfriend. How hard it is to be alone now. Although I am very aware of potential addict&amp;nbsp;manipulation, however this felt very raw and very real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt my heart tearing to shreds - that horrid heart breaking feeling addiction has inflicted on this mom that only other moms or dads would understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..I wanted so bad to invite him over but refrained so I could speak to my hubby first - something very important for keeping our family sane in the insanity. I hung up the phone and literally dumped it on my hubby who was watching&amp;nbsp;TV&amp;nbsp;and totally unprepared for me to burst in the room with my overwhelming need to see my son..I want to invite him to come over for the&amp;nbsp;Superbowl, I miss him, I can't take it, he is alone and isolated and lonely - even if it is self inflicted it still hurt to hear the pain in his voice. I cried and sobbed for a long time, &amp;nbsp;the first time in a long time. I felt my heart breaking, I want to hold him, hug him. I want to feed him a homemade meal, enjoy some closeness and send him back to the city. I could feel my husbands heart breaking for me. Hubby reluctantly agreed if I want to invite him over for the day it's okay but I know it was for his love for me that he agreed. I told him I would honor not bringing him here and I could arrange to just go see him in the city. I meant it. I have learned we all are in different places at&amp;nbsp;different&amp;nbsp;times with this and I try so hard to honor my where my other family members are at any given moment. He assured me it is alright to invite him if I want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promptly called and text to invite him. He called me hours later to tell me he would love to come today. Now I have put myself in the situation of worry of how this will all go today, if he will make it over at all. I assured my husband this isn't about letting him stay while waiting for that bed as we all know how that turned out last time. I just want a day, an afternoon, a hug. My heart is slightly comforted as it aches for my son. And hopefully today it will be just a little less broken.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-4878593236480958885?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4878593236480958885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/phone-is-back-and-my-tearful-weak.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/4878593236480958885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/4878593236480958885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/phone-is-back-and-my-tearful-weak.html' title='Phone is back and my tearful weak moment'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-132626343271491146</id><published>2012-02-01T04:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T04:49:37.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My electronic leash broken again</title><content type='html'>The one little thing I've allowed myself to do is give my son a phone. It's really way more for me then him. After he was missing for almost two months, I decided the silence was too much to handle so I got him a $9 "go phone". I figured I could decide each time his balance was low if I wanted to reload in two week&amp;nbsp;increments. I have lost count of how many phones between myself and his sister we have given him over the last few years but my best guess would be around 6 or 7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday morning I left him a voice mail - love you, thinking of you. Call me. About 5 mins later a girl called me from his phone. She had met him the night before and borrowed his phone and forgot to give it back. She wanted to return it but had no idea how to get in touch with him. Well that makes two of us since you are calling me from the only way I had to reach him. We agreed she would return it to the pizza place they met in the night before. My daughter emailed him to let him know it is there but his getting on a computer can possibly not happen for weeks as his only way is at the library or the Apple store. Who know if and when he will get the email and if the phone will be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking that this is yet another phone gone and now I am again left with no way to contact him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-132626343271491146?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/132626343271491146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/my-electronic-leash-broken-again.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/132626343271491146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/132626343271491146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/my-electronic-leash-broken-again.html' title='My electronic leash broken again'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-3499158741511216328</id><published>2012-01-31T05:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-18T06:02:00.854-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heroin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='addiction'/><title type='text'>Words of wisdom</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;This in some&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;weird&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;way just gives me the&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;OK&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;to be who I am at any given moment in time when battling my fears surrounding my sons addiction. I have done it all and now it has become just simply - I do what I can live with each day. Today - that is not much. I got this off of another parents blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;strong style="line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span id="yui_3_2_0_14_132801418721059" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;Do what you are comfortable with. Spend all your money trying to help or spend none of your money. Take their calls or don’t take their calls. Pay for their apartment or give them your home. (or leave them homeless) Disown them or clutch them tight. All your pain is about you….your fear of (just) wanting them to be healthy and happy and sane. Since none of this is within your power to give them, then do what makes you able to sleep at night, do what makes life bearable for you. Your addict/alcoholic is doing what makes life bearable for them……aren’t we all?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-3499158741511216328?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3499158741511216328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/words-of-wisdom.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/3499158741511216328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/3499158741511216328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/words-of-wisdom.html' title='Words of wisdom'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-6703664278102759622</id><published>2012-01-30T05:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T05:03:23.304-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A funny thing happened on the way to detox</title><content type='html'>He can't seem to put one foot in front of the other and actually make it through the door to detox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Addict ramble, addict ramble. Got arrested again. The revolving door of jail continues.. Going to still go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still not there..he just doesn't want it bad enough. Although sometimes I think he does want recovery - it is just fleeting. It goes on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went through the city yesterday where he is homeless and addicted. Stopped by my parents graves and&amp;nbsp;realized&amp;nbsp;it was the 20th anniversary of my dads death. Wondered what my dad would be thinking if he had any idea what has become of my son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Text my son to tell him it has been 20 years - my dad was the most important person in &amp;nbsp;my sons life as a child..an&amp;nbsp;indescribable&amp;nbsp;bond. He has tattoos dedicated to his grandpa. His first deep hurt that he never could get over was the death of his grandpa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't stop in the city to meet up with him. We just kept on driving. Letting go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-6703664278102759622?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6703664278102759622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/funny-thing-happened-on-way-to-detox.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/6703664278102759622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/6703664278102759622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/funny-thing-happened-on-way-to-detox.html' title='A funny thing happened on the way to detox'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-201496779922389763</id><published>2012-01-26T04:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T04:54:35.888-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Always messing up</title><content type='html'>Yesterday morning my son called me on my way to work. He was headed over to his case manager to see if he got the bed in detox. Getting the bed somehow meant getting to skip court as well. He text me an hour later and said the bed came through and he was going to detox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was calling and texting him throughout the day wanting to talk with him before he went, tell him I love him, give my support. My calls and texts went unanswered all day. I was trying to get up the guts to ask him to sign a release of information for the detox/rehab so if he left again they would be able to tell me&amp;nbsp;instead&amp;nbsp;of leaving me hanging for months of the unknown again. I never got the courage to battle the hostile addict that comes out when he is using.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally last night at 8pm he called me and said he messed up. He'd fallen asleep on a bus and missed his time to go check in. Ugh.&amp;nbsp;Apparently&amp;nbsp;he catches up on sleep by riding buses around the city when he is on the street all night. The roller coaster ride all day is wearing me out again. He was headed to the detox hoping they would still take him. Very nervous that he may have blown it bad this time. He never went to court. He needed to check in yesterday for it to all fall in line. He sounded very worried..he sounded very high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just listened. Told him I hoped it worked out and hung up...not much sleep for me. Restless nights are commonplace. Anxiety creeping back in. Wanting so bad to hope. Hope that he wanted this. It sounded way more about the court and&amp;nbsp;avoiding&amp;nbsp;jail last night and he still messed it up. He was a wreck on his way knowing he may have blown it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did they take him in? Is there now a warrant again for missing court? Will he just run and go missing again if they refused his bed because he was supposed to be there hours ago? The questions go on and on in my mind. The detox is only a 4 day detox and unless there is a residential bed to follow, the pattern will just go on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am mentally very caught up in it again...let it go, let go, let go, just let go. Trying to talk myself into letting him go and go back to my life. My night was sleepless, restless, the tension in my body and the sinking feeling in my stomach still sits. Let go, let go, let go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-201496779922389763?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/201496779922389763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/always-messing-up.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/201496779922389763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/201496779922389763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/always-messing-up.html' title='Always messing up'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-3711389859320354144</id><published>2012-01-25T05:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T05:05:38.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope?</title><content type='html'>My son has some changes happening again and I'm trying not to get to mentally caught up in it but find myself wanting to hope again..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The revolving door of jails and courts is finally slamming shut on him. He is facing a year in jail but his case manager is asking the court for one last shot at rehab and recovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started methadone a few days ago - he has finally&amp;nbsp;realized&amp;nbsp;he won't make it without help. He is due to enter a detox today, at the same long term residential rehab he left in October. The hope is they move him into a bed when the detox is over. The program supports methadone and they will assist in keeping him on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the court says no - he will go to jail which he is terrified of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of the motivation, he may actually do this. He is confidant the court will take the advise of the behavior health case manager and he will get treatment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is sleeping on the street - he says it is awful but he supposes it's a good thing because it reminds him why he does not want to continue this life of addiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says he wants recovery, he says he is done. He says it is different this time. He says he wants a normal life again. He says he wants to do normal things like see a movie. His girlfriend is back home with her parents. She left the city when he got arrested again. She is doing well, attending meetings, sober.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have renewed hope..which scares me. The hope and the disappointment are a horrible&amp;nbsp;roller&amp;nbsp;coaster ride and I do better when I don't fill my mind with dreams of my son clean and in recovery. But today I am hoping again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this is finally his bottom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-3711389859320354144?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3711389859320354144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/hope.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/3711389859320354144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/3711389859320354144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/hope.html' title='Hope?'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-4818772112882573922</id><published>2012-01-19T05:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T05:07:32.679-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living my life</title><content type='html'>I have reached a new place in my own recovery. I'm living my life again. As my son is again homeless, addicted, sick and his life with heroin is a runaway train, I am finally living mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought a Wii and have been having so much fun with it..family fun with the active present members of our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am engulfed in Audio books during my commute to work - simple enjoyment to use the time in my car&amp;nbsp;instead&amp;nbsp;of&amp;nbsp;obsessing&amp;nbsp;on my addicted son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently discovered high end thrift store shopping! Making this a payday guilty pleasure gets me a bag of professional work attire for $20 to $30!!! And it helps a charitable cause at the same time. It's enjoyable to have new outfits to wear and finding treasures like expensive name brand skirts for $5!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am deeply focused on my career while at work and being the best I can be in my job..it feels good to flourish in it instead of faking it while wrestling my mind with thoughts of my son while there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes - it is always there..lurking in the back of my mind. The fear of the worst. I can push it away now and not let it consume me. I am learning to let go. I am learning to detach with love. I have learned the next crisis is going to happen whether I spend every moment worrying about it or not. I'm finally choosing to let that worry go and stop letting it consume me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course an unknown phone number calling my phone at a&amp;nbsp;weird&amp;nbsp;hour will shoot the&amp;nbsp;adrenaline&amp;nbsp;running through &amp;nbsp;my&amp;nbsp;veins&amp;nbsp;in a&amp;nbsp;millisecond,&amp;nbsp;and these things are the things us parents of addicts just learn to live with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My plan is just that &amp;nbsp;- I'm learning to live again. I can hang up from that wrong number, calm myself down and move on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-4818772112882573922?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4818772112882573922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/living-my-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/4818772112882573922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/4818772112882573922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/living-my-life.html' title='Living my life'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-6804865706561489497</id><published>2012-01-04T05:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T05:41:58.955-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Long overdue update..</title><content type='html'>Thanks to those who have been praying and waiting on an update..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both my son and his girlfriend got in rehabs and both left...my son made it only 4 short days. Here is what transpired over the last few months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had made a&amp;nbsp;decision&amp;nbsp;to bring him home to wait for his bed in rehab. It had been two years since I had let him stay with us in our home. &amp;nbsp;It felt like the right thing to do at the time. He had detoxed off heroin and was doing all the right things to get to rehab and wait. The wait was about one month and that month for the most part was a special time for me to spend time with him. He was&amp;nbsp;optimistic, helpful, had a good attitude and we spent some nice time bonding and reuniting for the first 3 weeks. The courts had arranged a social worker who got him on general assistance. We had discussed this $400 coming and I knew in my heart it was all bad. The day he was told his date to enter rehab we had only 1 wk to go and he got the GA $ and promptly went MIA. His was missing for 5 days but I knew exactly what had occurred. He walked to my house at 3am for hours with his tail between his legs. We only had 3 days to go for the bed so I let him back home to wait. The night before his check in, he disappeared again only to come back high as a kite. That night was crazy...he rambled like a mad man, cried all night, swore upside down and backwards that he wasn't high. I didn't even question, badger - &amp;nbsp;anything - I just wanted to check him in and get him out of my house. My hubby called it "operation get him the F out of here".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby took the morning off work and dropped him off...I spent the first week full of hope but with lingering doubt. The place he went wouldn't tell us anything or even&amp;nbsp;acknowledge&amp;nbsp;he was there due to confidentiality.They have a 2 week black out period so at first I just waited for that two weeks to pass to get a call or letter.&amp;nbsp;Neither&amp;nbsp;ever came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for 8 weeks he was missing...this was a very dark period for me as I grieved and mourned my dreams for a clean and sober son - again. I spiraled into a depression and became frantic with fear and panic. I was&amp;nbsp;obsessed&amp;nbsp;with what had happened to him. Did he leave and OD? Did he leave and kill himself? I spent my spare time with a circle of calling everywhere he had contact with, case managers, jail, hospitals. I filed a missing persons report. His girlfriend had gotten into rehab and was doing fantastic..really&amp;nbsp;optimistic, clean, healthy again. She had not heard one word from him either. So a couple of months passed and he finally called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said he thought I wouldn't want to hear from him if he left the rehab. I was just so relieved he was alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, his girlfriend left her rehab to find him and got herself kicked out. She promptly reunited with my son and they are currently living back on the streets, in cheap hotels and using heroin again. They both cycle in and out of jail, they manipulate the system and it revolving door of jail, courts, case workers, assistance just continues on and on. They both got arrested last week and were both out in 4 days. Now suddenly all her charged are just dropped - huh?? &amp;nbsp;I am fed up with the system too but I guess they are overcrowded and overworked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son also just found out he is&amp;nbsp;positive&amp;nbsp;for Hep C...not really much of a shock as statistically almost all IV drug users will contract it. I am just relieved its not HIV for now. He is supposed to have a liver biopsy but with the life he is living I can't see him following through with any medical help or them providing much to a homeless addict. Again I hope this may be the thing that will create an intervention but not holding my breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am letting go again - actually more then I ever have. As soon as I knew he was alive I have stopped holding onto such unrealistic dreams and have accepted the&amp;nbsp;situation&amp;nbsp;for what it is. I have given him a phone and he calls me once a week or so to check in and that is about all I want in the way of contact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will keep hoping that someday they will be ready, but in the meantime I am living my life. I am tired of the lies, I am tired of my focus being about him and his addiction...I am getting better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to those reading and asking for updates.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-6804865706561489497?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6804865706561489497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/long-overdue-update.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/6804865706561489497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/6804865706561489497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/long-overdue-update.html' title='Long overdue update..'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-4955390703146876807</id><published>2011-10-09T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-09T08:07:23.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whirlwind of positive changes</title><content type='html'>The last month and a half has been a crazy whirlwind of life changes. All changes for the better. New house, new job and so much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son finally got his bed at the residential recovery program - he is now in rehab for the first time ever. He checked in last Tuesday morning. It is a six to twelve month residential rehab which is exactly what he needs after 2 years of living on the street as an active heroin addict. His girlfriend is also in the same program although not in the same location. She has been there one whole month already and sounding very positive about life and a future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The month&amp;nbsp;preceding&amp;nbsp;his check in date was..well interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Labor day weekend was my daughter's wedding. After a year of her &amp;amp; I going in circles about what to do about having her brother at the wedding, everything seemed to fall perfectly into place if not a bit bumpy getting to the weekends arrival. My son had come out of detox and we had him come home on Friday of the wedding weekend. It was the first time I'd had him home in over a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His girlfriend's parents had brought her home a few weeks before to wait for her date and she was due to go in to her program 2 days after the wedding so we picked her up and brought her to the wedding weekend with us. It warmed my heart to see her looking so much healthier, filling out, healed and healing, smiling, happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wedding was the most wonderful magical weekend ever..it was so amazing to be around all of the family and to have both my son and his girlfriend there and a part of it. I believe that weekend was a big turning point for my son. He was very open and honest with everyone at the wedding about what the last couple years has been, openly telling everyone that he is waiting for his bed in rehab and is getting a chance at recovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The few weeks following the wedding were less then perfect, but I made a decision with my husbands agreement to bring him home to wait for his bed. That month was filled at times with joy of spending true quality time with my son that I had barely seen only occasionally the last couple of years. At other times filled with the chaos of addiction. There was about two wonderful weeks and I will cherish those. There was some raw honesty from him. Some stories and details I could have lived without knowing. There was some amends. There was a lot of gratitude from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had done everything on his own to get this rehab. Nothing was done by us. He was ready. After six weeks of courts,&amp;nbsp;counselling, case managers, community health center appointments etc, he was finally given the date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then he went missing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day he was given the date - his date was one week away - he never came home. The week was filled with worry for me but it is what addicts do. He went back to using, back to the street one last run. I knew what happened but I couldn't resist calling jail, calling the hospital to see if he overdosed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After five days he came back home at 3am last Friday night. Dope sick all weekend we were only 3 days away. We kept him again and counted the days. Monday night I came home from work and he was missing again. He rode up on a bike a while later in the pouring rain and told me he went on a little bike ride. Seriously? He spent that last night here before check in the next morning high as a kite. We were 12 hours away from check in. There didn't seem like much of a point of drug testing him or having a big confrontation about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning my husband made me laugh when &amp;nbsp;he called it "Operation get him the F@%^ in there" .&lt;br /&gt;He was able to take the morning off work to get our son checked in. The rehab he is in caters to homeless addicted people and I know they allow detox there. My son called me on the way, expressed gratitude for us helping him get there - that he would have never made it if we hadn't of helped and he would have had to stay on the street waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first two weeks is a no contact period of orientation so I don't expect to hear from him for a while. He wanted this, he knows it may be his only way out of the life he has been living. He knows it was over and he couldn't go on. He did all the footwork himself to make it happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I will hope for the best that he takes what has been given to him and can finally begin recovery. I will also prepare myself for the worst - that he can walk out, that many don't make it on the first try. Today I will be grateful that HE has found HIS way to recovery.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-4955390703146876807?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4955390703146876807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/whirlwind-of-positive-changes.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/4955390703146876807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/4955390703146876807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/whirlwind-of-positive-changes.html' title='Whirlwind of positive changes'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-7657762451725328933</id><published>2011-08-24T06:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T06:40:48.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My f'd up roller coaster</title><content type='html'>Since Monday I have tried my best to let go. I am getting better. Turned him over to my higher power. Focus on my life. I am still riding the roller coaster but the peaks and valleys are not as high and low as they were last year when he attempted recovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday morning I got at text from him. It said - I'm at orientation for the long term rehab, I got in. Call me later, too much to text.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;immediately&amp;nbsp;burst into tears of relief and went straight into my&amp;nbsp;codependency&amp;nbsp;role again. I text back - that's the best news ever..when do you go in? Do you have to wait for a bed? My mind was spinning out of control. Surely they wouldn't send a few day clean homeless heroin addict back to the street to call when a bed is available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He text back - Whoa mom slow down! Not in yet, just accepted in. I'm eager too. I'll let you know when I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes - he spent the entire day there doing some orientation and he went back to the streets to wait. I still don't know when he will actually go. He told his sister it could be as soon as Monday next week. He has a case manager that is helping him navigate it all through some behavioral health center that he sought out himself. He was hoping to go to a shelter last night. He hadn't slept and wasn't able to get in a shelter the night before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My head is still spinning. The mother in me wants to go get him and bring him here to protect him from the streets and the drug dealers until he can check into to the rehab. The recovery in me knows he has to figure it all out. I'm not going to get him. At least not yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I will wait and hope and do nothing. This is his to figure out. It is not good for me to think I should get involved - and not good for him either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-7657762451725328933?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7657762451725328933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/my-fd-up-roller-coaster.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/7657762451725328933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/7657762451725328933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/my-fd-up-roller-coaster.html' title='My f&apos;d up roller coaster'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-1822665027564788688</id><published>2011-08-22T06:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T06:11:30.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'>to be continued..</title><content type='html'>Yesterday afternoon my son called his little sister with the same resolve and determination he'd been expressing for the last few days. We have all been feeling so hopeful. He sounded really sick she said..this is a good thing as heroin&amp;nbsp;withdrawal&amp;nbsp;is horrible and being sick is the first miserable step to getting healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our family spent the afternoon gathering his personal mementos from our previous residence - something I had previously firmly decided I would not do, that it was his stuff and he needed to handle it. In light of the recent developments we all felt compelled to handle this for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got home from another day of moving things (mostly his things), ate dinner and I decided I would call him at the detox and see how he is feeling, full of this renewed hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The call went like this - Me: &amp;nbsp;"Hi, may I speak to J please?" Voice on phone: "He left."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shock, (why?) silence (speechless) Me: "huh?" Voice on phone: "He left"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stunned I hung up. I called back again to find out what happened, my denial voice telling me it must be a mistake, he must be talking about the wrong person or something. No details - just "Yeah he left an hour ago. His time was up&amp;nbsp;tomorrow&amp;nbsp;anyway." My mind was reeling - his time was up&amp;nbsp;tomorrow? what about that extension? The streets are no place for a 4 day clean heroin addict.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called his phone - no answer. I text - you left? He called me back to explain in that familiar addict kind of way - there was someone saying her things were stolen so our whole block got kicked out. Huh? They told me you just left? blah blah blah addict speak blah blah..at a shelter, still going to intake for long term program&amp;nbsp;tomorrow&amp;nbsp; blah blah, detox gave him certificate of completion so he's good to go for the other program, addict ramble, addict ramble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did not sound sick, he sounded...happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hung up and pondered the day - how we all jumped into to help again with something we had decided we weren't going to do - moving his stuff that had been at my house for 2 years while he had little concern for any of it.&amp;nbsp;At times I feel like I am like a little puppet on a string - how quickly I&amp;nbsp;relapse&amp;nbsp;into my&amp;nbsp;codependent&amp;nbsp;behaviour without even recognizing it for what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am disappointed in myself for allowing myself to go to such high levels of hope again. That I got back on that&amp;nbsp;roller&amp;nbsp;coaster of emotion of hope and&amp;nbsp;disappointment. That I spent my afternoon doing for him what he should have been doing for himself when what I had wanted to do yesterday was drop a fishing pole off the dock in my backyard and relax after two straight weekends of moving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm moving on and letting go again. Still harboring hope (denial?) that somehow this may all still work out. That they will miraculously take him in the program (if he used last night I doubt it), that maybe he was telling the truth (unlikely), that maybe he just wanted one last time before that long term&amp;nbsp;commitment&amp;nbsp;and today he will be ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-1822665027564788688?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1822665027564788688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/to-be-continued.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/1822665027564788688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/1822665027564788688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/to-be-continued.html' title='to be continued..'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-2526651613507591603</id><published>2011-08-21T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T07:27:55.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a difference a year can make</title><content type='html'>One year of homelessness, running the streets, stealing for a living, being arrested constantly, getting the cops called on him daily when the daily hotel rent is due and having to relocate every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son called yesterday us from detox. He is doing this. He is sick, he is tired and he is ready for recovery. He has been in for only two days and has arranged a van ride to a rehab for an intake appointment to a long term&amp;nbsp;residential&amp;nbsp;program on Monday. This would be a great time for his higher power to make that bed available!! Please God - a begging mom here : ) This is the first time he wants to go to rehab. He is at a detox ran by St. Vincent De Paul and is&amp;nbsp;utilizing&amp;nbsp;all the help they are providing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sounded humble. He sounded sick. He sounded confused but determined. He said he is too sick to figure it all out right now but the place he is in is helping him put a plan together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We asked him how the food is there and he replied its a lot better then jail food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He explained that one year ago, when he checked in this very same detox, everything seemed awful, dirty and it was a culture shock to be in a place like this. Today he is grateful for a bed, food and help after a year of hard living on the streets how he fits in there now. He laughed about&amp;nbsp;scheduled&amp;nbsp;smoke breaks and said last year he was annoyed that he couldn't smoke when he wanted, now he is glad he can smoke at all. Last year he&amp;nbsp;argued&amp;nbsp;he didn't want to be at any recovery center that is&amp;nbsp;religious&amp;nbsp;based - yesterday he sounded so grateful for their services.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said he was so relieved that his girlfriend is going into inpatient, that they were so stuck together. If one of them wanted to stop using, and go for help, they felt they were abandoning the other - a cycle they couldn't figure out how to stop. He said they got very serious about making a change over the last weeks and knew they both had to do it. When she called her parents and he assured her he would get help too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately&amp;nbsp;he found out this detox is only a 4 day detox and he thought it was 7 (I found that out myself when I looked it up online so I know he is being truthful) and he is already set to be released on Monday. His counselor or case manager is trying to get him an additional 4 day extension. He is due to be in court Friday and he is hoping to courts will let him go to rehab and that the residential program will have a spot for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am asking myself if I should step in and "help" navigate all of this, or go to court with him etc, but I know this will work out best if HE figures it all out with the help of the people at the programs. I don't know what the next days will bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did bring up the wedding and was so sorry that he probably will miss his little sisters wedding but he knows he has to get in the residential program - that is the way to a life of recovery. I quickly reminded him that his life and future is much more important and lets just not think about it today - one day at a time. His dad told him that him being in rehab is the best wedding gift he could give his sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still keeping myself in today as best as I can, trying not to project and worry if it will all work out. Today I do have a renewed hope for my son and a&amp;nbsp;situation&amp;nbsp;that had felt so hopeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-2526651613507591603?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2526651613507591603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/what-difference-year-can-make.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/2526651613507591603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/2526651613507591603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/what-difference-year-can-make.html' title='What a difference a year can make'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-3067937758159002478</id><published>2011-08-20T07:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T07:28:05.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He is IN, and my far fetched fantasy</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure my son ever actually went into detox after he called me Sunday evening - however he is IN detox at the moment. He called his sister and asked her to bring him ciggs to the detox, which she did last night. He is sick and making his attempt at getting clean. I know he has a rough road ahead if he stays and follows through. I cringe at the thought of him dope sick and know how hard it will be for him for the next few days. there is nothing nice about heroin&amp;nbsp;withdrawal&amp;nbsp;but if he really wants this he will make it through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am taking this one hour at a time, hopeful he makes it this time. I know he can walk out and go right back to the streets with one single desperate addict thought and just like that it can be over. A mothers heart never stops hoping and I do believe he can do this. And circumstances have changed with the&amp;nbsp;separation&amp;nbsp;from his girlfriend. I'm still staying out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girlfriend called me to tell me he is in two nights ago- she is waiting for her spot in a long term&amp;nbsp;residential&amp;nbsp;inpatient facility referred by the courts. She is safe at home with her parents, sounded determined to do this. She is dope sick but she says it's starting to get better. She will wait&amp;nbsp;possibly&amp;nbsp;a few days to a month for her spot - she really hopes its days and not a month but she sounded like she really wants this and wants recovery. She hopes they allow her a very long term residential program because she knows that what she needs. I love her and hope so much this all works out for her and she gets the help she needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here is my&amp;nbsp;fantasy dream outcome - (I am trying not to want as bad as I do because I am so afraid I'm setting myself up for disappointment) &amp;nbsp;-That he makes it the full 10 days with a true desire for recovery - this would be 3 days from the wedding, Then I bring him home for the first time in 2 years, clean, sober, and have my son back for the wedding. That's as far as I'm letting my mind go and perhaps I shouldn't be going there at all but I can't stop it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please don't beat me up for my hopes and dreams - I know it may be unrealistic but it a dream I so&amp;nbsp;desperately&amp;nbsp;desire that I want to believe it is at least possible. This is the first time in a full year that anything is finally moving in the right direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-3067937758159002478?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3067937758159002478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/he-is-in-and-my-far-fetched-fantasy.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/3067937758159002478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/3067937758159002478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/he-is-in-and-my-far-fetched-fantasy.html' title='He is IN, and my far fetched fantasy'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-8032393956492181320</id><published>2011-08-18T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T07:01:22.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>For the few of you wondering where I've been, my personal life has been filled with crazy major life changes over the last month. I have moved from my home and town of 15 years, my husband started a new job and I have been offered a new job. In addition, my&amp;nbsp;daughter&amp;nbsp;is getting married in two short weeks so I have tried to keep her wedding at the center of my thoughts and attention regardless of everything else going on. This has all kept me very distracted from what is happening with my addicted son. Anytime I am dealing with my own life and not obsessed with his is a good thing for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However there has been some waters being stirred with my son and his addicted girlfriend. Sunday evening my son called me from outside of a detox. I have waited over a year for this phone call. He informed me that he is done, can't do it anymore etc etc. He informed me he was checking in. He and girlfriend agreed it was time. She called her parents, who have been totally absent from her life, and they picked her up from the city. She has options through the court and they are trying to get her to inpatient treatment. The courts&amp;nbsp;referred&amp;nbsp;her yesterday and she has an intake&amp;nbsp;appointment&amp;nbsp;Friday. Pray for her that she will be getting the help she so&amp;nbsp;desperately&amp;nbsp;needs. The simple fact that she has now been removed from their situation and will be in rehab is huge! I know that together they are a lethal toxic combination of addiction and&amp;nbsp;codependency. Also this is the first time detox was initiated by him - not us urging him, directing him and driving him there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he called, I wanted to cry this huge sobbing relief - this is it, it's over, I'm going to have my son back. I know through my recovery to stay in the moment. I was so afraid to hope to much - he never has made it past a few days in detox - they are typically 7-10 days and his pattern has been to walk out after 2-3. Because it has been a full year since his last attempt, and the girlfriend is out of the picture I hoped this time he would make it. Monday evening he called again and started rambling that he never got in last night but he checked in at 6am&amp;nbsp;Monday&amp;nbsp;morning. I could tell he was high and not sick at all but I figured he probably used heroin up until the moment he checked in. Red flags were flying everywhere in my mind. I only have a minute because I'm not supposed to have this phone. (breaking the rules the first day?) He wants to try to go to a&amp;nbsp;different&amp;nbsp;detox in the county where I live because he thinks the treatment options are better. (uh oh - the treatment options are abundant in the city he is in -not so much out here - and does this mean he is trying to rope me in somehow?? Please don't ask to stay with me while you wait for a bed!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My personal recovery around his addiction also has taught me this is his problem - he needs to figure it out. I can't dictate where he goes or what he does. I can only keep my&amp;nbsp;boundaries&amp;nbsp;in tact so I don't get sucked into addiction chaos and&amp;nbsp;manipulation. So I listened to the addiction ramble of the addicted messed up mind of my son, and just said things like - oh, ok, good luck, I love you, keep me posted. I didn't tell him what to do, I didn't offer to do anything. I am letting him figure it out - if he really wants this he will and him wanting it is the only way it is going to happen anyway. I wanted to say call me in 7 days when the drugs are out of your body and your mind is clearer but I didn't. If he needs helps finding a bed at long term treatment at that point I will be here to help him if he asks for my help but I am not volunteering it and he isn't asking - yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I began to have some very cautious and&amp;nbsp;guarded&amp;nbsp;hope - is he really doing this? Is there a chance he will make it and come out clean and begin a new life of recovery? I wonder if he could get a one day pass from rehab and make it to the wedding? Will I get to re-unite with the son I know is in there that I have been grieving for the last 2 years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.... by 3pm my daughter saw him posting things on&amp;nbsp;Facebook. Instantly we knew he was already out of detox..ugh. Did he even ever check in? She messaged him and asked him why is he on&amp;nbsp;Facebook&amp;nbsp;when he was just in detox. He informed her he had been kicked out because of having the phone. He is supposedly now waiting for a bed to open at the one in my county. He says went to a counseling&amp;nbsp;resource&amp;nbsp;center yesterday and they may be providing a bed while he waits for a detox bed to open in the other county. I am wondering if he is waiting for his girlfriend to be settled in for treatment before he gets serious himself. Addicts are so hard to figure out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time will tell...keep him in your thoughts that he navigates he way to treatment..and that I stay sane and out of it...one day at a time, one hour at a time. Thanks for all of your support..prayers for all of our addicted children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-8032393956492181320?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8032393956492181320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/update.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/8032393956492181320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/8032393956492181320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-929885590271275849</id><published>2011-07-18T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-18T07:59:28.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hopeful..perhaps the tides are changing</title><content type='html'>Just a quick update this morning as I am feeling hopeful that things may be changing soon for my son and his girlfriend. After J's few days in jail a couple of weeks ago, his girlfriend was arrested for the first time and also just spent a few days in jail last weekend. Her case is being handled by an alternative court that deals mostly with homeless addicted souls. This court is&amp;nbsp;apparently&amp;nbsp;offering her inpatient rehab and for the first time in a long time I am feeling some hope for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spoke with my son yesterday and he is encouraging her to go and take the help available to her. In the meantime he is trying to get all his court stuff sent to drug court and looking at an option to get help himself.&amp;nbsp;Instead&amp;nbsp;of trying to beat the system it sounds like he is much more humble now. They are so stuck and&amp;nbsp;dependent&amp;nbsp;on each other for survival. He has been much more in contact with us and his sister these last couple of weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He continuously says he knows things have to change, they can't keep doing what they are doing - in fact he can't believe they have made it this long. He is going to be on some kind of drug probation and he knows he can't do it himself now and is hoping they both have a court ordered way to go to treatment at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there was ever the time for doors to open in that direction - this may be it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please keep them in your prayers. I don't want to get ahead of myself but hope is a great thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-929885590271275849?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/929885590271275849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/07/hopefulperhaps-tides-are-changing.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/929885590271275849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/929885590271275849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/07/hopefulperhaps-tides-are-changing.html' title='Hopeful..perhaps the tides are changing'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-3078475813550293392</id><published>2011-07-03T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T10:27:58.581-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Peace</title><content type='html'>Some peace, serenity and calmness has been how I'm feeling lately. I got to see my son on Father's day and all in all it felt so great to hug him and hug him and hug him - and watch him eat french fries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband decided for Father's day he wanted to go in to the city and try to meet up with our son. I was cautious about the idea after the no show on mother's day but have missed him so much. I agreed that it was his day and if that's what he wanted to do we would go. I hoped that we could let go of expectations and just go plan a great day in the city whether the meeting up with our son happened or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our daughter had invited her dad out fishing but he was determined to try to see our son, so we all headed to the city. Hubby insisted we pick up our son &amp;amp; his girlfriend at a designated corner of the horrid neighborhood they are staying in a hotel there. When we got to the corner, it was the only really disturbing trauma part of the day for me. Just driving into the area, the streets lined with homeless people in line at a food bank/church, laying on the sidewalks etc was a lot to process. As we sat waiting I scanned the street looking at one seedy horrid hotel after another and wondered which was the one my son is currently residing in, and it was hard not to feel a bit sick. Then, in typical addict fashion, a crisis ensued with a frantic call to my daughter's phone -he can't meet us now, there is a problem with hotel&amp;nbsp;manager. He insisted we leave, that he didn't want us waiting there and he would meet up with us later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off we went to the tourist part of the city and tried to make the best of it and I wondered if we would see him at all. We wondered, we waited and to my surprise, son &amp;amp;&amp;nbsp;girlfriend&amp;nbsp;arrived about an hour later. Hugging my boy was an amazing feeling - regardless of the events of the last two years I love him and miss him so much. To my surprise, he looked - well - good. His face was shaved, his clothes were clean. It was hard not to notice the hole in his shoe with his toe poking out but I didn't let it bother me too much. His long hair was tucked under a&amp;nbsp;beanie&amp;nbsp;but when he took it off his hair was clean and maybe even trimmed? His girlfriend on the other hand looked worse then I've ever seen her and it made me sad for her. This girl has my heart and it is hard to imagine this is where her life has taken her as well. She was very very thin, her eyes seemed sunken in and what little was showing of her arms were scarred, bruised and scabbed with little sores. My sons arms were covered to his wrists so I can only imagine what his looked like under his sleeves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent what felt like a "normal" family day being tourists. We laughed, we joked and we just spent time together. I didn't beg and plead for him to find recovery. We didn't even mention the circumstances we find ourselves in. We did let them know they are loved and we will be there to support them when they want to make a change. I was able to let him live his own life that day and it felt great. I did give him a packet with&amp;nbsp;resources&amp;nbsp;to find free&amp;nbsp;healthcare, free meals etc in the city. As a mother, knowing he can find food or get medical assistance for an infected injection site makes ME feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harm reduction, accepting that it is what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended the day with a meal at a fast food burger place and it sounds silly but it felt so great to watch them eat! We each ordered meals and he asked if it was ok if they got milkshakes too. They ate their burgers, milkshakes and fries and then he asked me if I wasn't eating my fries and could he have some. I gave him my fries and he ate those too. Then my husbands fries, then my daughters fries. 4 trays of empty french fry trays stacked in front of him later it felt so damn great to feed him those french fries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has expressed repeatedly that he knows he will be going to jail soon. I now know that he was arrested on possession of heroin charges a couple months ago and was just arrested and put in jail again for two days last week for a warrant on the possession charge. When I heard it was for possession my reaction was YAY! That's great news!! Crazy to be excited about my son being arrested for possession but it gives me hope that he will have a choice of finally maybe getting to rehab paid for by our state! Thanks to prop 36 I hope he is given that option over jail. My son has never been clean more then 10 days in his entire adult life..my hope is for some mandated treatment of an extended&amp;nbsp;length&amp;nbsp;of time to clear some of the cobwebs from that addicted brain. I don't want to get ahead of myself because the last possession of heroin charge was just dropped for no reason but each one maybe gets him closer to the help he needs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for now - I am feeling peace today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-3078475813550293392?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3078475813550293392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/07/peace.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/3078475813550293392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/3078475813550293392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/07/peace.html' title='Peace'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-6465188138692683215</id><published>2011-06-17T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T07:27:16.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rascal Flatts - I Won't Let Go (Lyrics)</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Af8mB9ABuJA?fs=1" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-6465188138692683215?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6465188138692683215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/06/rascal-flatts-i-wont-let-go-lyrics.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/6465188138692683215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/6465188138692683215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/06/rascal-flatts-i-wont-let-go-lyrics.html' title='Rascal Flatts - I Won&apos;t Let Go (Lyrics)'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/Af8mB9ABuJA/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-5553789465105816185</id><published>2011-06-04T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-04T09:07:02.799-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time to save myself</title><content type='html'>This last couple weeks I have taken some important steps in my own recovery. I have spent so much energy worrying myself sick over what my addicted son is doing, how he is destroying his life and fearing for his death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It suddenly hit me that his addiction could actually end up killing ME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have done all the right things in action in the past 18 months- stopped enabling, establishing&amp;nbsp;boundaries, keeping very little contact etc, think before reacting etc but inside my head and my heart the obsession with his addiction continues to wreck me to my soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am taking some very real steps to save myself instead of him. I met with a doctor on got on anti-anxiety medication (It's not working yet!!!). I found a therapist and met with her this week as well. She has a major&amp;nbsp;background&amp;nbsp;in addiction and I think she will be very good for me and my recovery. She wants me to dive into my own recovery in some extreme ways that I am not sure I want to do &amp;nbsp;- 90 meetings in 90 days and even look into in patient co-dependent&amp;nbsp;recovery - really?? I didn't even know there was such a thing! Rehab for&amp;nbsp;codependents&amp;nbsp;- who'd have thought? &amp;nbsp;Apparently&amp;nbsp;my one Nar-anon meeting a week isn't enough to solve all my problems! So I guess I'll have to get myself to some Ala-non meetings too and she says online meetings count so it really is possible if I want to get better. It's clear she is going to make this about me and not my addicted son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thought of it is exhausting - I can make all kinds of excuses why I shouldn't do any of that but I keep asking myself if I really want to get better why not at least give some of her suggestions a try?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend I wrote about the&amp;nbsp;potential&amp;nbsp;silence from my son and dealing with the not knowing what he is doing or where he is. Since then both my husband and daughter have spoken to him and his addiction continues to drag him down to a such horrid self destructing life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I know where he is. He is has been in the big city again for the last few months, living in the worst drug addicted crime ridden neighborhood where he fits right in and has access to all the drug dealers he needs. Him and his addicted&amp;nbsp;codependent&amp;nbsp;girlfriend are staying in a motel there. I have no idea how they get money to pay for motel rooms but chances are it is not through any legal means. It seems they no longer have her car - what a shock! I mentioned to my&amp;nbsp;counselor&amp;nbsp;that I suspected thats where they are and she seems to think it is a very comfy place to be a heroin addict. Between the needle exchange programs and the free meals at shelters and churches, I guess if you are going to be a homeless heroin addict this is the place to do it. She also stressed there is outreach on practically every corner there when he is ready for help it is readily available. This news also means he is not in the town I am working in now so that is somewhat of a relief. I wasn't sure how long it would be until I had a weak moment and would be tempted to go find him after work. On the flip side this is the same city my daughter works in and I hope she can stay strong and not get sucked into the chaos of his addiction again. It hurts me so much to see her hurt by her brothers addiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told his sister he can't think past hour to hour, that he is just living in each day with no plans to end it. He doesn't want to see any of us because there is nothing to say and he is totally unable to follow through with any plans.&amp;nbsp;He feels horrible about mothers day.&amp;nbsp;He doesn't want to be a burden. He loathes what he is doing and feels guilt over all the hurt he has caused us - but he isn't ready to change it - this is what he wants to do. He said that he knows it is coming to an end soon that his choices are going to be taken away by his legal and criminal problems that are continuing to get worse. I could&amp;nbsp;speculate&amp;nbsp;that he continues to get arrested for petty thefts or worse and is failing to make any court appearances or following through with his current diversion program in criminal court in another county. Reading between the lines as they say, I would venture to guess there are warrants for his arrest.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I suppose it is only a matter of time before he is in jail soon. I pray next time it is longer then a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, I am going to do my best to continue to work on me. To free myself from the bondage of my&amp;nbsp;obsessive&amp;nbsp;worrying thoughts, the remove the overwhelming stress I carry around 24/7. I think I am ready to get myself well and learn how to live my life again and to experience the little joys life still offers instead of being consumed by darkness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-5553789465105816185?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5553789465105816185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/06/time-to-save-myself.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/5553789465105816185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/5553789465105816185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/06/time-to-save-myself.html' title='Time to save myself'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-4685670726953265830</id><published>2011-05-29T08:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-29T08:52:38.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The silence and hope</title><content type='html'>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&amp;nbsp;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&amp;nbsp;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, &amp;nbsp;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&amp;nbsp;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tons of remorse&lt;br /&gt;Yet I don't repent&lt;br /&gt;With fleeting&amp;nbsp;curiosity&lt;br /&gt;Wonder what it meant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another day&lt;br /&gt;Another lie&lt;br /&gt;Another sorrow&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I hope to try&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the last line he wrote that gives me hope. In the midst of his addicted insanity, somewhere in there he too hopes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now we have entered that period of silence again where I wonder when I will next hear from my son. Since the&amp;nbsp;beginning&amp;nbsp;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, &amp;nbsp;I have to fight an internal battle to go pick him up off the streets and talk sense into him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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&amp;nbsp;obsessive&amp;nbsp;thoughts when they start and don't let them continue on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of helplessness, today I am hopeful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-4685670726953265830?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4685670726953265830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/silence-and-hope.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/4685670726953265830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/4685670726953265830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/silence-and-hope.html' title='The silence and hope'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-1795501332285848785</id><published>2011-05-23T07:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T07:29:13.661-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting go &amp; feeling better</title><content type='html'>Just wanted to write a quick update this morning. I am doing sooooo much better then I was the week following the no show on Mother's day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I just feel hopelessly helplessly addicted to my drug addicted son. At least for now I am not acting on my irrational thoughts of saving him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my daughter's words - he knows where all the help is if he wants it - I started being able to let go again. I still haven't heard anything from J or J2, although a few days after the no show I did text an old friend of his and his friend let me know he had&amp;nbsp;received&amp;nbsp;a text from him. Relief then turned to anger and sadness but at least I do know he is alive, and not in jail. I began to let go at that very moment and stopped my frantic calls to jails and interventionists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend I finished the book Beautiful Boy, written by the father of an addict son..it is so comforting to know that I am not alone in my craziness. And at the same time so sorry for so many other parents of addicted kids out there and the hell we all go through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I also read about half of "Tweak" by Nic Sheff - the son of the author of Beautiful Boy. It is giving me perspective of how sick our addicted kids are. When Nic is on his drug runs, he barely gives a moments thought to his family or the destruction he is causing to his own life - he just didn't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is helping me let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can detach knowing my son does know what to do. I brace myself for what will perhaps be the longest period of no contact. I wonder if the not knowing, not hearing or seeing him is actually better for me anyways as our lives get to stay free of chaos. I am trying not to live in fear of waiting for the next crisis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you to all that are reading and commenting..I read your blogs and am reaching out in internet land with a cyber hug to all of you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-1795501332285848785?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1795501332285848785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/letting-go-feeling-better.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/1795501332285848785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/1795501332285848785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/letting-go-feeling-better.html' title='Letting go &amp; feeling better'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-6680642800370028381</id><published>2011-05-13T17:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T17:28:31.657-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emotional turmoil</title><content type='html'>In the last year of this craziness, I have managed my best to detach with love and live my life despite what is or isn't happening with my addicted son. I have been learning everyday how to let go and some days or months I do it better then others. This week I'm not doing it well at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been waiting for his "bottom" to come before it's too late. I have been obsessing again on my biggest fear of all - If they day ever comes that he overdoses and dies out there - it will be too late for me to say I should have done something, I should have tried, I should have&amp;nbsp;intervened. He has been running the streets, homeless for over a year. He has no car (sold the one I gave him for drugs, motels), no phone (I think I have bought 5), little to no contact with family or friends.&amp;nbsp;If that isn't a bottom I don't know what is.&amp;nbsp;He steals to survive and is cycling through the revolving door we call the courts. From one county to the next and has never spent more then 5 days in jail as far as I know yet. The first time he was arrested and had to kick in jail, the dope sickness was horrendous and he swore off heroin, was never going to go through that hell again. But it was fleeting and he was soon to be right back to it. &amp;nbsp;I used to hope for mandated treatment through the courts but they just drop the possession charges and send him on his way. The arrests for petty theft etc turn into diversion programs that don't include any drug tests. I am tired of waiting and putting my hopes in the system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week I have gone off the deep end again and become an emotional wreck. Perhaps starting this blog sent me there, I don't know. What I know is I am wrecked with emotional turmoil over wanting to do something to save my son again and a head full of Nar-non telling me he can only save himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had been a really really long time since I had even cried. This week I have had multiple crying meltdowns as I have tried to&amp;nbsp;implement&amp;nbsp;and force my family on board with some sort of intervention. I know that this idea is fear driven. They say fear is the flip side of faith so I must be losing faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband is trying to ground me back to reality and my daughter is so afraid of my being hurt. I know I shouldn't be making an emotional decision when I am in this mind set. I am taking the steps to get myself out of it. I went to a meeting &amp;amp; I made an appointment with my shrink to get on anti-anxiety meds again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every fiber of my being tells me I have to do something. I have to feel like I have TRIED EVERYTHING to help him even if it gets me nowhere...I know this is a dangerous road to go down and I can't stop myself from wanting to do something. It's that dark time when I feel like my little boy is drowning in a lake and I am supposed to sit back and let him. Then I have to remind myself he is not that little boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like so many other normal American families, ours too has suffered great economic hardship these last few years. In reality, there really is no money for a professional interventionist, much less any private paid rehab and this is all some convoluted dream that will never be. Conversations with my husband this week have not gone well in this regards with him trying to be rational and me being in an emotional rage - I have argued I should sell my car and drive a beater to pay for it. I argued that we would do it without hesitation if our son were dying of cancer and it was the only hope of saving him. When I brought it up to my daughter, she reminded me that he knows where all the free detoxes and treatment options are (we have personally given him the numbers and driven him there ourselves) and he had made it clear he doesn't want the help. She is angry at him for the&amp;nbsp;basket-case&amp;nbsp;I am sounding like again and wants to protect me from being hurt and disappointed. I get it, but it is so emotionally painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We agreed that I will continue to do some research..if I can find low/no cost help my family may get on board. (Am I dreaming?) My goal for today is to keep my emotions in check so I can make rational decisions, not desperate ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the other families of addicted loved ones or kids out there? What are your experiences or thoughts on interventions? Or do I sound like a crazed desperate mother trapped in emotional turmoil?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-6680642800370028381?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6680642800370028381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/emotional-turmoil.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/6680642800370028381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/6680642800370028381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/emotional-turmoil.html' title='Emotional turmoil'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-5173008975023758623</id><published>2011-05-10T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T17:53:33.298-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The empty chairs across the table</title><content type='html'>When I started this blog on Sunday, I thought I would be seeing my son that evening. He had text me from J2's phone Saturday evening and confirmed the time and place we would all be meeting for a mothers day dinner. No matter how hard it is to see him, I still want to hug him and always let him know he is loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our family all met at&amp;nbsp;restaurant&amp;nbsp;at the planned time. They (J - addicted son &amp;amp; J2 addicted&amp;nbsp;codependent&amp;nbsp;girlfriend) were not there. We decided to be seated and began the evening of texts - where are you guys?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to order - still no J &amp;amp; J2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sat and ate, tried to laugh and smile. We looked like the perfect family..except for the empty chairs at our table. I wondered how many times I could casually glance over at the enterance to the resturant without looking like I was obsessing on their absense and the hopeful moment they would walk through the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finished the meal - still no J &amp;amp; J2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter told me she was sorry that I was hurt on another mothers day..I told her it is not the hurt - the hurt is forgiven. My son is sick. It's the worry that eats me alive inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48 hours have passed - still no word from him. These are the things families of drug addicts have to learn to deal with. I realized of course that any expectation from a heroin addict (like thinking he would be there) is a&amp;nbsp;disappointment&amp;nbsp;waiting to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss him, I want to hug him. I want to save him. I can't help wanting to - I have a mothers heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I called jails. This afternoon I text an old friend of his. I still am left not knowing what happened. He hasn't had a phone since March, also the last time I saw him - when we met at a&amp;nbsp;restaurant&amp;nbsp;for his 28th Birthday. I rely on J2s phone&amp;nbsp;(the only phone still in their possession after multiple phones and minute plans purchased by me, his sister etc, all to be sold, pawned, lost) Not buying another phone was a big step in trying to let go for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I text the phone to tell him no matter what - he is loved. That I am never giving up on him, that there is always hope and its never too late. When I text "the phone", I think of it that way because at any given day I don't even know if they are together. To say this relationship is turbulent would be a severe understatement. They are both so sick, and even sicker together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I spent the day obsessing on doing an intervention. We however do not have the financial means to pay for rehab or a professional&amp;nbsp;interventionist. &amp;nbsp;Sometimes I am oddly&amp;nbsp;grateful&amp;nbsp;for that when I hear other families spend so much and the addict isn't ready or willing. I am going to do some research. I have to do something - to at least feel like I tried even if nothing becomes of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I am headed to a Nar-anon meeting where I will sit&amp;nbsp;amongst&amp;nbsp;the other broken hearted moms of addicted children and try to learn how to let go. But right now, I still want to save him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-5173008975023758623?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5173008975023758623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/empty-chairs-across-table.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/5173008975023758623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/5173008975023758623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/empty-chairs-across-table.html' title='The empty chairs across the table'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2931608368046074653.post-5511646335859698058</id><published>2011-05-08T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T12:24:48.619-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heroin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='addiction'/><title type='text'>The moment it happened - the begining</title><content type='html'>It was just about eighteen months ago that my adult son J sat across the kitchen from me and said the word that changed my life. Heroin. My mind was reeling with panic and at that moment, he could have said anything else, in that moment anything else would have been ok, but all I could think was don't say that one word. Not that, please anything but that. The moment it came out all I wanted was for it to go away. Take it back, change it to anything else. I knew it could never be undone. He is a heroin addict.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In penetrated my heart like a dagger..I think at that very moment in time I knew I was about to embark on a long and painful journey. In actuality I didn't have a clue what was coming. It felt as someone had kicked me so hard in the stomach, I couldn't breathe. I think I cried for 3 straight days as I grieved for the little boy he was, and the man he may never become.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him &amp;amp; his girlfriend had to move from their wonderful little apartment where they had been living their dreams in the city - or so I thought. He had been doing very well with his career, he was blessed with bountiful brains and personality for days. He was always the life of the party. It was not&amp;nbsp;surprising&amp;nbsp;that he was gifted with natural sales ability and had a&amp;nbsp;successful&amp;nbsp;career. &amp;nbsp;We adored her (i'll call her J2) and offered for them to stay at our home until they could find somewhere to go. It was within days of their arrival that the truth came out - he had been fired from his job, evicted from the apartment. It was that conversation in the kitchen, that moment (one of few to come) that he told me the truth. They had become heroin addicts. Some pieces of raw honesty from that conversation that stick with me today, included that everything he owned, everything of value, no longer were what they appeared - they became little bags of heroin. Everything had been pawned for the drug. I was so angry that someone as smart as him could be so damn stupid to put that needle in his arm the first time. I kept thinking why!?!!? How many recreational heroin addicts have you met in your life?&amp;nbsp;Apparently, like so many others it began with Oxycontin. Once he was addicted, he figured out that heroin is cheaper. It was that simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little League dreams to heroin nightmares..that is how it felt in the&amp;nbsp;beginning. How did this happen to him? Why my smart, talented, amazing little boy? I believe I still grieve for the dreams I had for him. Now I pray daily for him to be arrested so I can have a little peace. Jail is better then dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit here this Mother's day deciding to begin this blog and joining the other moms and dads out there that know what I feel..reading your blogs has helped me feel not so alone, perhaps to help some other mom who has just heard those words. This blog will be about my journey, to find a light in the dark, to find peace in the&amp;nbsp;chaos&amp;nbsp;that is addiction. One year ago this very weekend, he stole money from his sister's bank account and left a suicide note on her car. It was the Saturday night before mothers day Sunday that my daughter burst through the front door sobbing hysterical to tell us what had just&amp;nbsp;occurred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zooming ahead to today, this mothers day one year later, I reflect on what has transpired over these months. Three unsuccessful trips to detox, a few jail stints later, stealing from his family and pawning treasured&amp;nbsp;irreplaceable&amp;nbsp;family items, the hope and the sorrow. My son is now 28, he is homeless and I have very little contact with him. Through lots of online and in person support, Naranon, Alanon etc I am learning how to live again. My heart is still broken and I feel like it holds a black spot that will never heal until he someday finds his way to recovery. I stopped enabling him finally and at least for today! The last time I tried to help was August 2010 after paying for a months rent on a sober living house, when he made what I thought was a real attempt to get clean. He was promptly kicked out when the found needles in his room and has been homeless ever since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I wrestle only with contact or no contact and can't decide which causes me less pain. In the no contact times my mind still runs away with me. I wait for that knock on the door, the ring of the phone - is he in jail? Did they find his overdosed body in an alley? A simple unknown number on the caller id will send the&amp;nbsp;adrenalin&amp;nbsp;racing through my body. The not knowing is as painful as the knowing. Seeing him, gaunt, face drawn and eyes hollow and sucked in, unshaven, long scraggly hair, thin body frame covered in long sleeves is very difficult as well. I hardly recognize the man he once was. Hearing him speak is always about trying to make me think he is ok as if he could convince me it will manifest in reality. Except almost every word that comes out of his mouth now is a lie or underlying manipulation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Mother's day, I am choosing to see him tonight and include him in our family plans. Nothing is a simple as it seems when it comes to an addicted adult child. I am subjecting his siblings to seeing him as well and this journey has been very difficult on them as well. I will write more about them later but my daughter N had stepped in to continue enabling for a long time until she was burned badly enough that she no longer has contact with him. My youngest son A is has been shocked into reality of what addiction is and is angry at his big bro for all the times he has seen me cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had to set many&amp;nbsp;boundaries&amp;nbsp;to keep our family safe and the chaos to a&amp;nbsp;minimum. Included is that I don't allow him in our home..I don't trust him not to steal from us and worse yet - it seems the few times he has visited I can hardly get him to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wait and hope daily for his bottom to come..a mothers heart never stops hoping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2931608368046074653-5511646335859698058?l=heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5511646335859698058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/moment-it-happened-begining.html#comment-form' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/5511646335859698058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2931608368046074653/posts/default/5511646335859698058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartofabrokenmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/moment-it-happened-begining.html' title='The moment it happened - the begining'/><author><name>amothersheart</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07284190004489077657</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xKgdh9RpDLc/Tykwya3jhLI/AAAAAAAAABE/nM16Li0tKGk/s220/toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry></feed>
