HONESTY IS IMPERATIVE

This is part of a series of monthly posts that reference many conversations with Dr. MacAfee. Thanks, Doc. 

A client and friend of Dr. MacAfee, the mother of a recovering addict wrote to me: One of the most important lessons I learned from Dr MacAfee was to hold a mirror up to my son and reflect back to him, without anger or judgment, the honest truth of his behavior and actions. Dr. MacAfee encouraged me to be truthful at all times because without truth both of us would live in denial about what was really happening.

My reflection: I was never very good at honesty when my son was in active addiction. I walked on eggshells, trying diligently to avoid confrontations. This didn’t help my son, our family or me.

Today’s Promise to consider: Addiction survives in lies, while sobriety thrives in honesty. The Big Book reiterates that point saying, sobriety is not possible without rigorous honesty. Today, I will find my courage and be honest with my addicted loved one, without judgment or anger, and with love and kindness. Neither of us needs another battle, but we both need truth.

 

 

“I COULDN’T HELP HIM BEFORE IT WAS TOO LATE”

Photo credit: Mikele Roselli-Cecconi

A mother wrote to me: My son died of a heroin overdose. I need to start to forgive myself for all the mistakes I made. I try to understand why he couldn’t just stop what he was doing to himself. It isn’t as simple as people want to make it. I live with the pain of not being able to help my son when he needed it, but I get up everyday and try to live my life the best I know how. I still feel that I hide from so many people who can’t understand what it was like to live with a son I loved and couldn’t help before it was too late.

My reflection: My father was a drill sergeant in the Marines and he used to point his finger at me and command, “Tell Jeff to stop, godammit. Tell him to stop.” I wish it were that simple.

Today’s Promise to consider: I found it impossible to force my son to quit using. Through a fourteen-year addiction, I discovered no clear answers, but I learned that my loved one had to choose to change his life. And for myself, I learned to stay close, pray and forgive.

 

 

BLAME ISN’T HELPFUL

Photo by Audrey Melton

A mother wrote to me: My son is a heroin addict. I stayed home and was a fulltime mom. When he was ten years old, I started homeschooling him and his siblings. Eventually when he was beginning the eleventh grade, he entered a Christian school that we thought would be a good move for him. I had no idea that there he would meet up with trouble: He entered a class that was named the “druggy class.” The rest is history, and the cycle of addiction began.

My reflection: I’ve spoken to various audiences about addiction and the number one question I’m asked is, “What do you think made your son a drug addict? Maybe it was your fault? You and your husband worked many hours. Admittedly neither of you saw the red flags.”

Today’s Promise to consider: Addiction doesn’t discriminate. It happens regardless of socio-economic status, college degrees or religious upbringing. It happens in churches, in schools, on good streets and bad. I won’t blame anyone or anything for my child’s addiction. It happened. What I will do is stay committed to my Al-Anon or family group, trust God and work to keep hope in my heart.

YOU’RE BRAVER THAN YOU BELIEVE

A former student, friend and now psychiatrist, sent this: 

If ever there is a tomorrow

When we’re not together

There is something you

Must always remember

You are braver than you believe

Stronger than you seem

And smarter than you think

 

But the most important thing is

Even if we are apart

I’ll always be with you

My reflection: The words above epitomize Stay Close, a way of saying to our addicted loved ones, “I love you and you can beat this thing. But you have to do it. I can’t do it for you. You are braver than you believe and stronger than you seem. Fight, son, fight.”

Today’s Promise to consider: We can’t force our loved ones to live a sober life, but we can Stay Close and continue to hope. Jeff once told me, “You believe in me more than I believe in myself. Please never quit believing, Mom.”