A mother wrote an email message to me. This is part of it: Those of us who love our addicted children have felt pain, love, hope, and the helplessness that take over our lives. Our son is in a treatment aftercare right now and I feel hope, but the fear is always there. Even though he is now sober, we do not know how our story ends, and with the disease of addiction the story can change so quickly and dangerously. What could we have done to change our son’s fall into addiction?  What signs did we miss – or better still – could we have done anything to prevent this?

My personal reflection on the passage above, offering my thoughts today: This is the silver-bullet question: What could we have done to prevent the addiction? As parents, this is the question we ask over and over again. We are plagued with doubts, but nothing changes the fact that the addiction exists. Many medical folks call it a disease. My son has it. He’ll live with it for all of his life. I pray he continues to fight.

Today’s promise to consider for all of us who love addicts: There are some questions that have no answers. There are some ambiguities with which we must live. Maybe I could have done something differently to alter the course of this disease, but I’ll never know for sure. My son is addicted and I will learn how to stay close to him. I will accept that sometimes there are no answers.

A mother wrote an email message to me. This is part of it: My son is a high functioning (honor student in high school and at university) heroin addict. I can’t even believe that I can write or say these words. I feel so isolated most of the time. My son is very successful and he says that he’s in recovery. All I can say is that I think he is, but I am never sure. They are so good at deception. I analyze every single thing he does and says.  Sometimes I feel I will truly go crazy. In this crowded world, I feel totally and completely alone.

My personal reflection on the passage above, offering my thoughts today: This mother’s words – I feel totally and completely alone – are true for many of us. Silence rules the day and the silence keeps the addiction. We must break the silence in order to bring addiction out of the shadows and into the light. We are not alone. The research says that for every one addict four others are directly affected.

Today’s promise to consider for all of us who love addicts: I know that I am not alone. I will face the addiction with the help of others. Al-Anon and other groups provide for me a sense of community. I will break the silence that crusts over my heart and, in doing so, try to break the hold that addiction has on my family. 

This is part of a journal entry that I wrote four years ago: My mind wanders continually to my addicted son – I’m so connected to him. I think I’ve trained my heart to think of him constantly because he’s had so many problems. My soul is tormented with worries about him and even in my quiet times, my mind settles on him. I need to feel some peace knowing that I have done all I can do. I wish and I pray that he becomes well.

My personal reflection on the passage above, offering my thoughts today: My life was suffocated with worry for my son. Every minute of every day was choked with thoughts of him: what he was doing, where he was or where he might be. I had to stop worrying. I was distracted, my work was becoming impossible and sleep was racked with bad dreams and demons. Because of despair and feelings of shame, I isolated myself and kept it a secret, which didn’t help my family or me. I wanted to control my heart, but it was impossible. Prayer gave me the serenity that I needed. With prayer, I didn’t feel so alone.

Today’s promise to consider, for all of us who love addicts: I will stop the constant worry. I will pray and find my peace. With God, all things are possible.

This is part of a journal entry that I wrote four years ago: My son wants to come home for the summer and he says he’s clean. What do I do? The mom part says, “Be there for him. Trust him. Believe him. Open the door and allow him to come home.” The other part, the logical part, says, “He’s lying and he’ll just come home and get high. He’ll have too much time on his hands and trouble with follow. It always has.” Two extremes! What do I do?

My personal reflection on the passage above, offering my thoughts today: Addiction often threw me into extremes, and I swung between yes and no, give and take, punishments and gifts. These extremes didn’t help my son because my mixed messages led to added confusion and lack of boundaries. He needed boundaries that he could count on to keep him safe. As things spiraled out of control, my behavior became increasingly chaotic. I felt exhausted and I felt desperate. In turn I flipped between acting with kindness and dolling out punishments. I needed to protect myself and work toward stability.

Today’s promise to consider, for all of us who love addicts: I am not a puppet for addiction’s sake. I will seek help from experts and from those in Al-Anon. I need boundaries to keep myself safe – for my son, my family and myself.

A mother wrote an email message to me. This is part of it: My son is an alcoholic. Today he is eight days sober. The guilt, the shame, the regrets, the questions won’t leave, but for today my chest doesn’t hurt. I listen to his words, the way he says them, and I also listen for the words that don’t get voiced. As a teacher, I feel like fraud. How can I help others or work with parents, when I can’t help my own son. My grandfather drank, my dad drank, my sister drank. I hope and pray and cry and bargain with God to help my son stay strong, but I know that the choice is his and he may choose death not sobriety.

My personal reflection on the passage above, offering my thoughts and considering my family’s struggle and pain: I wanted to know where addiction came from: was it a disease, was it moral failure? After a lot of reading, I’ve concluded that it is a disease. Just like my cancer was a disease, so is addiction. How do we fight the disease of addiction? By stopping the flow of drugs and working toward recovery. But just as I had to choose to fight my cancer, my son had to choose to fight his addiction.

Today’s promise to consider, for all of us who love addicts: I will stay close, but he must wage the war. Dear Lord, give my son the desire to fight for his own life. Help me to know how to help him and how not to enable the addiction.

A recovering alcoholic writes: The illness of alcoholism thrives in the dark and isolating world of silence. Let the light in and the glimmer of hope be seen. We say in AA that ‘we are as sick as our secrets.” We are lucky to be able to talk freely to our fellow members and this helps us manage to keep the darkness at bay. I’ve found hope and inspiration in other literature like ‘The Road Less Travelled’ and ‘A New Pair of Glasses.’ In my opinion whatever works is a good thing!

Reflection: We have so much to learn about addiction and recovery from addicts, professionals and those who love the addict. Only by taking off the blinders and talking about addiction will we be able to fight it, in the open and in the light. When I was young, we didn’t talk about abortion or homosexuality or even breast cancer. Today we talk about these things and the conversations bring us closer to truth.

Today’s Promise: I will learn about addiction. I will go to Al-Anon meetings and I will talk with professionals. I will not allow the addiction to grow stronger in my silence.

“Only by bringing addiction out of the shadows and into the light can we hope to defeat it.” Dr. Patrick MacAfee

From my journal: Is it possible for a mother not to feel guilt, shame, and intense hurt? Maybe for some, but I’m not there. I doubt if I ever will be. For me, I think I will wear this like a skin. Maybe I’ll forget I have it on sometimes, but it will be forever part of my being – my eyes, my smile, my thoughts – like a breath that catches me short or my heart when it misses a beat. That’s it. My son is my heart murmur. I have allowed his aches and traumas to damage my heart and it is beyond repair.

Reflection: I washed myself in guilt for a long time. I beat myself up with questions: “How did I miss the clues of his drug use?” “Where was I?” Every part of every day, I reminded myself of all the mistakes that happened in his young life.

The intense hurt was real, but I learned that I had to let it go. I needed to give my pain to God. I needed to start to take care of myself so I could take care of my family. The guilt and self-bashing kept me stuck in a place of immobility.

Today’s Promise: I will let go of guilt. It doesn’t help anyone – not me, not my son and not my family. I will quit blaming myself. I will forgive him; I will forgive myself.

From my journal: So how do I feel? Like a failure of a mother. Everyone in the field of drug addiction says, “Don’t blame yourself, You didn’t cause it, you can’t cure it; you didn’t make him a drug addict.” But look deeply into a mother’s eyes and tell her that her child is dying and it’s not her fault. Is it possible for a mother to do nothing to stop the pain, to alter its course?  Sure, it makes sense if the child is not your flesh and blood.

Reflection: I felt I had failed my son. He was a drug addict and I couldn’t stop it. Mothers protect their children, right? I wanted to blame the addiction on anyone, even myself, but certainly not my first born.

Today’s Promise: In time, I learned that trying to assign blame didn’t help anyone: not me, not my son, not my family. I learned to have faith in the Al-Anon saying: “You didn’t cause it, you can’t cure it, but you can contribute to it.” Wherever the addiction came from, I had to acknowledge it, accept it, and move forward in prayer and action. Feeling like a failure did no one any good.

I am not a failure as a mother. Addiction is a part of our lives. It is no one’s fault.