"We have traveled a rocky road, there is no mistake about that."

 

ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS, Chapter 8 TO THE WIVES

"We have had long rendezvous with hurt, pride, frustration, self- pity, misunderstanding and fear." 

Every once in awhile I come across some little reminder of the ROCKY ROAD  our family has been on. Our son has not lived in our home for many years and yet, I continue to come across mementos of his life in and out of sobriety.

The past  few weeks I have been cleaning out closets and boxes marked "keepsakes".

 Tucked away in the bottom of a box of treasures I found an AA chip.  As I sat starring into the bottom of that box I thought about how many times my son brought an AA  chip home and proudly presented it to me. The first 24 hour chip and then the next 30 day chip brought with them hope for better days. I had no idea how many of those 24 hour and 30 day chips would end up scattered throughout my house.

As I was sorting through a  box of cards and letters from our children I found tucked between the sweet handwritten notes a letter our son wrote from jail.

 Today I was organizing my computer files I was reminded once again of the ROCKY ROAD we've been on. When I opened the file with my son's name on it  there were documents labeled, COURT RECORDS, RESTITUTION, ARREST RECORD.

When I opened my husbands file I was reminded of the deep hurt he experienced
several years ago. His file contained a letter he wrote our son after a particularly difficult time in our lives.

Chapter 8 of the big book says, "we had a long rendezvous with hurt, pride, frustration, self- pity, misunderstanding and fear. "

It has been a LONG RENDEZVOUS WITH ALL OF THE ABOVE.

We have all worked really hard over the years to LET GO of the past. Most days our lives are filled with the blessings of peace and serenity that recovery bring.

 Some days God lets the wreckage of our past surface and we are reminded that the bumps in the road are smaller these days

we are reminded that  the moments of joy we experience in our family today are

oh so good.
 

Walking through addiction

When I decided to name this blog Walkingthroughaddiction I had no idea where our son's drug addiction would take us. We had been to some pretty dark places and there were times I didn't think we would ever see the light again. The journey through addiction is like a bad dream that you can't wake up from; a cycle of pain and heartache.  Just when you make it through one crisis you are faced with another one. I had become numb and was filled with hopelessness and despair.

 

When I finally found myself in the rooms of Al-Anon I began to hold on to a glimmer of hope that things could get better. People would say, "wait for the miracles". I stayed because I desperately wanted to believe that things could change. And although our family continued to struggle I began to witness miracles in other peoples lives. It brought me hope that one day our lives would be better. I CAME TO BELIEVE that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity. I slowly came out of the fog I had been in and began to enjoy my life again. I learned that I had choices and that although I couldn't control my son's addiction I could control the path that I chose to be on.

I am thankful to say that our whole family is walking on a path of recovery today.

 

 

  

 The journey we are on is filled with peace, serenity, joy and laughter.

A few weeks ago our son came for a visit and we took a walk to the river where I was overwhelmed with gratitude as I watched my son and his girlfriend gaze at the river.

 

 

These two young people fought a hard fight to find their way THROUGH addiction.

They are committed to staying on a path that will lead them to continued sobriety.

We don't know what tomorrow will bring but

for today I am filled with gratitude! I am so glad I stuck around the rooms long enough to witness miracles in my life and the lives of these two young people as well as countless others.

 

Calls from Jail

Now and then I hear a parent in a meeting talk about the collect calls they receive from jail. In fact, tonight at my meeting a woman was speaking about the recent collect calls  her son had been making from the county jail. She mentioned that there really isn't a lot to talk about when he calls and that sometimes she just feels depressed after speaking with him. I remember all too vividly the overwhelming sadness I felt the first time I accepted a collect call from my son who was locked up. He was frightened and begged me to get him out. It was heartbreaking but I knew he needed to stay where he was. When I hung up the phone that day I vowed to never again accept a call from a correctional facility.

Today as I walked into a public restroom I heard a mother accepting a collect call from her son. I am not sure she realized that she was on speaker phone but I could hear both sides of the conversation. The young man sounded cheerful and happy to hear his mother's voice, the mother on the other hand seemed surprised and a bit weary. She told him she had expected him to call this evening. She then went on to say that she would put money on his books later this afternoon.

Only a parent who has been through the minefields of addiction would understand what was behind that brief encounter between a mother and her child.  I walked out of that restroom and said a silent prayer for that mother and her son.

Life through glasses blurred by addiction

Yesterday I was enjoying a relaxing afternoon getting my hair done when the teenaged son of one of the hairdressers came in asking his mother for gas money.  Before his mother gave him the money she asked the typical questions; where are you going, and who are you going with. My mind immediately reacted the way I did when my son was using drugs. I was suspicious. My first thought was "he is lying". Then I thought "he wants to buy drugs". When he told her he was going to a movie I thought to myself , "no he isn't". As the young man left his mother explained to her client that her son had been volunteering at their church all summer doing landscaping. She went on to explain how proud she was of him and what a good kid he was.

It made me think how distorted my thinking has become. Living with the lies and deception of addiction for so long has jaded me. I see the world through the lenses blurred by addiction now. For the past 10 years I have attended at least two Al-Anon meetings a week. Twice a week for over 10 years  I have sat in rooms filled with anywhere from 50-100 parents whose lives have been turned upside down because of their child's drug use. I have met at least a dozen families who have lost their child to a drug overdose. I have become a well informed parent and a professional student of addiction studies. My son's drug use became very apparent to me shortly after he began experimenting with drugs. It was impossible for me not to see the changes in his behavior and his appearance. For some parents it takes a couple of years before they recognize the signs of addiction. They may sense that something is "not quite right" but they don't want to accept the fact that their child may be using drugs. They rest in the comfort of denial. It provides a false sense of security.  I was forced out of denial long ago. I don't think I will ever again see life through rose colored glasses. There are moments like yesterday that I miss the bliss of denial. I have to remember there really are teenagers who "just say no" to drugs. There are teenagers who don't have to lie to their parents about where they are going or who they are with. There are teenagers who know how to have fun without using drugs or alcohol.
There are families who will never face the nightmare of addiction that my family and thousands of others have had to face. I forget that sometimes. The blurred lens of addiction has hardened me.

Afflicted By Addiction | VoiceAmerica™

Afflicted By Addiction | VoiceAmerica™

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.