I found this among all of my unpublished blog drafts.
Interesting timing because I just finished a podcast interview (called, "The Addiction Conversation") with a gentleman named David Cooke who wrote a book called
"Behind the Dumpster: A story of a Son's Addiction, a Father's Love, and a Bike Ride"
I feel like I am on another side of my son's addiction.... the side of peace. I have come to it through a lot of struggle and self reflection. I will write about it soon, but want to share this.
I wrote it almost 3 years ago when he was detoxing at my tiny beach apartment. It was the first day:
Up at 8:00 a.m., quiet until 10 a.m. - then talking nonstop until 9:30 p.m.
There was talking about drugs, their effects on one physically and mentally and spiritually. The changes he was making. How he saw his friends headed ways that he didn't want to end up. How he needed to take suboxone rather than methadone or cold turkey. How alcohol can help with his dopamine levels until he is detoxed. He has not used for 3 weeks, but is still experiencing a lot of aches, pains, sweats. There was talk about God and how he knows that God has never left him and that he knows that he is being prepared for something. Talk about getting more tattoos. Talk about how his personal hygiene has suffered. How he never washed his jeans. How it was so cold where he lived. Talk about things true and things truly bullsh*t. So much talk that I could concentrate on little else.
....but that's what I had hoped for - significant talk in among all the words.
I battled a swarm of ants in the kitchen, got a little work (business) done when he would go outside for a cig, but thought it was more important to listen, listen and listen some more! So I did. I must admit, my eyes glazed over a few times...he DOES talk a lot.... but it was that last segment that made it worth it.
I almost missed it in amongst all the words...but there was a little part in there where he told me it was his fault that two of his good friends died. He had a very close female friend who, in his words, he pulled into his addiction. (She had already been to rehab...so her addiction was all her own.) He has a way about him that people are drawn to and he has always had compassion. Anyway, when he moved to another state a couple of years ago, she was distraught and told him that if he left she would commit suicide. He left for a job. She committed suicide. He blames himself for her death. He cried. He cried himself to sleep. I was there to try to counterbalance his blame with statements like, "It's not your fault." "That wasn't fair for her to make you responsible for something like this." However, I said very little. I caressed his beautiful head with my motherly hand and wiped the tears from his face, told him how sorry I was and cried too.
This is the first time he has sustained any kind of vulnerability and allowed me to comfort him and allowed himself to cry.
What a burden he has to carry.
keywords: addiction, recovery, enabling, suicide, detox, heroin, meth
