"God will use you to accomplish great things on the condition that you believe much more in His love than in your own weakness."
Just one month before addiction came out of the closet, my son had surgery. He had tonsils and adenoids removed and septum corrected. The day we brought him home, it was like dealing with a mentally ill patient. He was in a panic and his Dad was hiding the pain pills. No one knew what to do. I decided that he was just afraid so I went to his room and talked him down. I decided that even as horrible as he was that I would go in there and ignore his ugly words and just "be mom" to my son. I had my husband bring a lazy boy recliner up there and I stayed there for 3-4 days and nights. In many ways that decision was a gift.
This decision to just love and care for my son brought back a closeness that I hadn't had in such a long time. I fed him and told him stories. We watched tv together. He actually got me hooked on "Gene Simmons Family Jewels" and "Pickers". We watched "Intervention" where he told me what a terribly sad show that was. I found that odd. I was thinking of it as hopeful but he told me that most of them would never get off the drugs. And, still I didn't or couldn't see the handwriting on the wall. Anyway, this time together is in part why I believe that he agreed to go to rehab.
The day that my husband told me that our son had to be addicted to drugs, I looked at him like he had three heads and said, "Get Out!! I mean it Get Out! You will not tear my boy down." And, in that moment, I meant it. You see that time together was something that I never imagined having again. I could not tell you why. Subconsciously, I could but I hadn't been willing to look very deep. I still remember that anger (fear) of those words and the primal need to protect my baby. I could have taken my husband out. Four hours later, I agreed with him.
This incident reminded me of a story that my family has told all of my life. I am the youngest of six children and my oldest two brothers went to Viet Nam when I was 4 yrs old. One was in the army and one was a marine. My mother thought that if a sheriff showed up it was only to notify the family of a death. So, when the sheriff drove down our driveway, she ran out the front door and started screaming for them to "get off her property!" and taking off one show and throwing it at them and then the other before bursting into tears, barefoot on the front porch. Later we learned that my brother was wounded by sniper fire and was being sent back to the states.
Friday night, I spoke with a family who is just beginning this journey that none of us wanted to take. She kept asking if she should drug test him to see if he was still using. When I asked her how much money he made and what bills he had (none) and what he had to show for the money he was making(nothing), then I said unless you want to know what he's on, no what else could he spend that much on. I kept pointing out obvious things that I too ignored in the beginning that seemed to be so hard to accept for her.
This primal notion of mothering is so strong. And, I've had a few ask how I could do the things that I've done. I think it's about changing your perception of caring. Caring for an addict requires some counter intuitive thinking. Caring for an addict requires a dumping of pride. It requires rolling up your sleeves and fighting with the devil. You need to separate the addiction from the child and fight against addiction while fighting for the child. It is a job not for the faint of heart. It is something that I could not have done without prayer and God's strength.
Today, I pray for this family to have the courage to let go and let God. I pray for my new blogger friends in their recovery journey. I pray for the Mom's and Dads who have lost their loved ones. I pray for those who still fight for their loved ones. And, I say a prayer for the soul of Henry, my grandfather.
Just one month before addiction came out of the closet, my son had surgery. He had tonsils and adenoids removed and septum corrected. The day we brought him home, it was like dealing with a mentally ill patient. He was in a panic and his Dad was hiding the pain pills. No one knew what to do. I decided that he was just afraid so I went to his room and talked him down. I decided that even as horrible as he was that I would go in there and ignore his ugly words and just "be mom" to my son. I had my husband bring a lazy boy recliner up there and I stayed there for 3-4 days and nights. In many ways that decision was a gift.
This decision to just love and care for my son brought back a closeness that I hadn't had in such a long time. I fed him and told him stories. We watched tv together. He actually got me hooked on "Gene Simmons Family Jewels" and "Pickers". We watched "Intervention" where he told me what a terribly sad show that was. I found that odd. I was thinking of it as hopeful but he told me that most of them would never get off the drugs. And, still I didn't or couldn't see the handwriting on the wall. Anyway, this time together is in part why I believe that he agreed to go to rehab.
The day that my husband told me that our son had to be addicted to drugs, I looked at him like he had three heads and said, "Get Out!! I mean it Get Out! You will not tear my boy down." And, in that moment, I meant it. You see that time together was something that I never imagined having again. I could not tell you why. Subconsciously, I could but I hadn't been willing to look very deep. I still remember that anger (fear) of those words and the primal need to protect my baby. I could have taken my husband out. Four hours later, I agreed with him.
This incident reminded me of a story that my family has told all of my life. I am the youngest of six children and my oldest two brothers went to Viet Nam when I was 4 yrs old. One was in the army and one was a marine. My mother thought that if a sheriff showed up it was only to notify the family of a death. So, when the sheriff drove down our driveway, she ran out the front door and started screaming for them to "get off her property!" and taking off one show and throwing it at them and then the other before bursting into tears, barefoot on the front porch. Later we learned that my brother was wounded by sniper fire and was being sent back to the states.
Friday night, I spoke with a family who is just beginning this journey that none of us wanted to take. She kept asking if she should drug test him to see if he was still using. When I asked her how much money he made and what bills he had (none) and what he had to show for the money he was making(nothing), then I said unless you want to know what he's on, no what else could he spend that much on. I kept pointing out obvious things that I too ignored in the beginning that seemed to be so hard to accept for her.
This primal notion of mothering is so strong. And, I've had a few ask how I could do the things that I've done. I think it's about changing your perception of caring. Caring for an addict requires some counter intuitive thinking. Caring for an addict requires a dumping of pride. It requires rolling up your sleeves and fighting with the devil. You need to separate the addiction from the child and fight against addiction while fighting for the child. It is a job not for the faint of heart. It is something that I could not have done without prayer and God's strength.
Today, I pray for this family to have the courage to let go and let God. I pray for my new blogger friends in their recovery journey. I pray for the Mom's and Dads who have lost their loved ones. I pray for those who still fight for their loved ones. And, I say a prayer for the soul of Henry, my grandfather.
3 comments:
Today it is all I can do to join you in prayer, for all the families out there and for courage myself, to let go and let God, so that there can be hope in my own recovery and for my son's future.
Love, love, love this post! Yes, it's counter-intuitive in many ways. Sometimes you put your heart on the firing line, and other times you put a suit of armor around it.
There is no definitive answer. I refuse to give people a definitive answer. I wish people used more loving common sense, instead of categorizing with such words as enabling, rock bottom, tough love, etc.
I love your blog - I'm adding you to my blog list. =)
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