We must be willing to let go of the life we planned, so as have the life that is waiting for us

There was a time when my entire life revolved around my son’s addiction.

It felt as though I was either trying to prevent the next crisis or cleaning up the damage from the last one. Even during the short periods when my son stayed sober for several months, I was never truly at peace. Instead of relaxing and enjoying life, I lived waiting for the next phone call, the next relapse, the next disaster.

I existed in a constant state of anxiety and depression.

Through my own recovery, I slowly came to understand that my son was grown now, and although he was living a dangerous and heartbreaking lifestyle, it was HIS life to live.

No matter how much I loved him or how terrified I was of losing him, I could not change the course of his life.

That was HIS job.

What I could change was the course of MY life.

Eventually I realized that my son’s addiction had taken me down a dark and bumpy road, but I did not have to stay there. I once heard the phrase, “Let go or be dragged,” and that was exactly what my life had become. I was being dragged by fear, worry, and the desperate need to save someone I could not save.

I knew that if I wanted a meaningful and purposeful life, I had to let go and begin following the path that brought joy, peace, and meaning back into my own life.

One of the hardest truths I had to face was that the path my son was on could lead to his death — and I had no control over that.

I had to learn how to live in a way that would allow me to survive even if the worst happened.

That realization shattered me.

I had a great deal of grieving to do. I had to grieve the dreams I once held for my son and accept that some of them might never come true. But slowly, I also began to understand that I could still dream new dreams for my own life.

I began to see my life as a gift I had been wasting.

For years I had lived consumed by fear and worry, blind to the blessings surrounding me. I started noticing the people who loved me and needed me present in their lives. I realized how many precious moments I had missed because emotionally I was somewhere else — trapped in the chaos of addiction.

Little by little, I began starting and ending each day by counting my blessings.

I know there were times my son felt abandoned by me, but deep in my heart I knew that if I was going to survive, I had to let go.

I came to understand that I was wasting the life God had given me by living in constant fear, and eventually I had to make the decision to do something different.

When I finally turned and walked toward a new path, my heart was heavy, but I knew it was the best thing for both my son and myself.

Today, I am profoundly grateful that I found the strength to let go — and even more grateful that my son eventually found his way home.

Life is good.

Be patient.
Keep believing.
Trust God.

God grant me serenity

When you love someone affected by addiction, there is almost always drama. It is the fallout of this disease.

As the parent of an addict, it took me a long time to realize that my own life became unmanageable every time I stepped into the chaos. Whenever my son called while he was active in his addiction, I would get pulled directly into the latest crisis. I didn’t understand how quickly I was making his problems my own.

When I became consumed by his drama, I was no longer emotionally or physically available for the rest of my life or the people who needed me.

Addiction destroys normalcy. It becomes nearly impossible for most addicts to keep a job, pay bills, or maintain healthy relationships while they are using. Promises are made and broken until trust is shattered and relationships begin to crumble.

As a parent, it is heartbreaking to stand back and watch addiction destroy your child’s life. It took me a very long time to accept a painful truth:

I HAD NO CONTROL OVER IT.

Every attempt to jump in and put out the fire was often just fueling it. Each time I stepped in to rescue my son from the consequences of his addiction, I unintentionally protected him from fully seeing the devastation it was causing.

In the rooms of Al-Anon, we hear the slogan, “Let go and let God.”
The first step toward my own healing was learning to let go of the controlling, step away from the drama, and turn my son over to his Higher Power.

I never stopped loving my son.
I never gave up hope.
I never stopped believing he could recover.

But eventually I accepted that I could not do it for him.

I came to believe that my son had a Higher Power who loved him even more than I did — and that when he was too weak to carry himself, he would not be alone.

During some of my son’s darkest moments, he would call me in complete despair. Everything in me wanted to rescue him. Instead, I would simply tell him, “I love you, and I’ll be here when you’re ready for recovery.”

It was painful. It broke my heart. But deep down, I knew that letting go was part of what he needed in order to find his way home.

During those years, I prayed constantly. I woke up in the middle of the night filled with fear and anxiety, and over and over again I got on my knees and turned my son over to God once more.

Those were some of the hardest years of my life, but they also brought me closer to my Higher Power than ever before. In the middle of my fear, I began to experience peace, comfort, and the quiet understanding that if God was holding me, He would also be holding my son.

Letting go was not easy then, and it still isn’t easy now.

Even with my son sober, I sometimes find myself wanting to manage his recovery. But his recovery is not my job. How he works his program is his business.

Every day I have to remind myself to focus on the things I actually have power over — and that is mostly my own life.

The moment I begin managing other people’s lives again, my own life starts becoming unmanageable too.

I do not want to go back to the person I once was.

Life is too short.

Today I am learning to live with gratitude, to accept the things I cannot change, and to change the things I can.

 

Addiction changed my life

When I held my first baby in my arms thirty-three years ago, I never could have imagined the direction my life would take. The early years of diapers and sleepless nights gave way to first steps and first words. Those seasons passed quickly, replaced by soccer games, karate lessons, school dances, and football games.

Then came the nightmare of addiction.

In AA, they talk about “the wreckage of our past” — the destruction addiction leaves behind. Before long, our family became engulfed in that collision course.

Today, we are slowly coming out the other side of that nightmare, but my view of the world has been forever changed.

When I hear about a house being robbed, my thoughts often go first to the perpetrator instead of the victim. I imagine a young person desperate to feed a drug habit. When I see someone wandering the streets asking strangers for money, I don’t just see a panhandler — I see someone chasing relief, searching for their next high. When I hear about homeowners shooting intruders or shop owners carrying guns, I don’t see “a junkie who deserves it.” I see another life consumed by addiction.

A few days ago, a young man approached me during my morning walk and asked for spare change. His designer clothes were disheveled, his hair unwashed, and fresh bruises marked his face from what looked like the night before’s fight.

“I don’t have any money,” I told him.

As he walked away, I couldn’t help myself. I called after him, “Go home.”

Without turning around, he replied, “I don’t have a home.”

Immediately, my thoughts went to the mother who had probably bought those expensive tennis shoes — a mother somewhere praying her son was safe.

The next day, I saw him again at a coffee shop. He came in to use the phone and hurried to a corner table. A few moments later, I heard him say, “Mom… I’m okay, Mom.”

My heart broke for both of them.

When he hung up, he looked utterly lost. I motioned for him to come sit with me and said softly, “I knew you had a home.”

He told me he’d been talking to his mother. He admitted he knew he was breaking her heart.

We talked briefly. I could tell how much he missed her.

He shared that he was an alcoholic and had spent time in and out of the rooms of AA. He was scared. Overwhelmed. Tired.

As I looked into the face of addiction, I saw my boy.
I saw your boy.
I saw someone’s child.

I saw the wreckage of his past.

And as he walked out the door, I said a silent prayer that Danny would survive one more day. I prayed he would find his way home — and back into the rooms of AA.

The Healing Game

I just reviewed a wonderful book available on Kindle from Amazon.  It is called the Healing Game. One of the first things to go for parents who have a child struggling with addiction is HOPE. We get consumed by fear and we begin to doubt that things will ever change. This book follows the stories of three young people from the first time they picked up a drug or alcohol to the long road to recovery. Many years ago I started reading the blog of one of the authors, Parent ofAddict. It was during the time that I was desperate for help. I was on the internet a lot searching for answers. I came across the blogs of other parents of young people affected by addiction. I found that although some of those blogs were written by parents who like me, were filled with despair there were others like Parent ofAddict who offered hope and encouragement.

Over the years I have found my way out of that dark place I was in and I too have learned as long as the addict is breathing there is always a possiblity of recovery. I have attended open AA meetings as well as AA speaker meetings and I have heard first-hand accounts of young people who have found their way back to a sober life. Today after nearly 15 years of drug use my son is living a sober life. It isn't easy. It has taken a lot of work and a willingness to change. My son attends 12 step meetings, he lives and works with other sober men, he offers hope and encouragement to others who want to get out of the grips of addiction. He is living a sober life one day at a time. A few years ago I would not have believed that my son would be working in a drug rehab and receiving a recognition award for his hard work. Addiction once robbed my son of everything that was of value to him. Today he is reclaiming the life he was meant to live. I am grateful for that. I am grateful that I never gave up hope. 

If you are a parent of an young person struggling with addiction or if you know someone who is this book is for you. Never give up. Never stop believing in the possibility of recovery.

2012

Was a sober year

a year of recovery

commitment and hard work

It was a year of healing for our family

It was the year that hope was restored

The past several years Addiction swept into our lives and cast a dark, gloomy veil on our world

There were moments of intense despair,and hopelessness, as we fought an unseen enemy

who would nearly destroy us all 

The memories of years past are woven together by fractured memories of the destruction addiction left in it's wake

Broken promises and shattered dreams

2012 was the year hope was restored

2012 was the year God reached into the dark hole and pulled our son back into the light.

It was the year of healing for us all

2012 was the year that I really came to accept my powerlessness

It was the year I came to know God,

It was the year I learned

that I am never alone

It was the year God offered our family  a second chance

2013 really is a
New Year

A New Beginning

A do over for us all

I don't know what 2013 will bring but I do know that I am filled with gratitude that hope has been restored! I know that God has plans for me and for my son and that we will both take what we have learned on this journey and  lead others back into the light. I will be forever grateful for one more day to love the boy that lit up my world

28 years ago