REHAB ISN’T ONLY FOR THE ADDICT

Photo Credit: Mikele Roselli-Cecconi

Photo Credit: Mikele Roselli-Cecconi

My son wrote about his first rehab center: The family sessions were valuable in that I started seeing you, my mother, as a person. Treatment lifted the backdrop of everyday life and allowed me to look at the drug use alone. You were afraid, and I could feel the gravity of that pain. You couldn’t fix my addictive patterns and your fear was evident. I began to understand that parents carry the full weight of their children’s hardships.

My reflection: The family sessions started honest conversations between my son and me. Jeff could see and feel my fear, and he knew that I wanted desperately to help him, to fix him. I, too, saw his fear and felt his pain. Together, we learned about each other and about addiction.

Today’s Promise to consider: Family sessions in rehabs taught me to listen deeply to my child and to work with him as we learned about addiction and its patterns. Today, honesty rules our conversations as my son and I continue to heal. Over time, he’s come to understand my pain, and I’ve begun to understand his.

RECOVERY HAPPENS: “NEVER GIVE UP”

TM_1696 (1)A friend of mine forwarded me a letter written by her son. He wrote: The moral of this story is: Never Give Up. Life is an absolutely terrifying phenomenon, but there is always hope hidden somewhere. On July 28, 2012, I remember sitting alone in a drug induced state, watching the sunrise and praying for a god to kill me. I prayed for no afterlife so the pain, the inner anguish, could finally end. This was the moment when I had an epiphany. I thought that instead of slowly watching myself die, I would give life a chance. I checked into rehab and I got clean. Turns out that was the easy part. Staying clean, that’s where shit gets real. I had to figure out who I was, better yet, who I am. The answer didn’t happen overnight. Hell, it’s still an ongoing process. I had to accept that I’m an awkward guy, a people pleaser who doesn’t want anyone to find out that I’m just an asshole with a big heart, and a nervous wreck who tries his best to remain calm. Then something magical happened: I realized that I wasn’t alone. One day I woke up and thought, “Holy damn, I can relate to other people without the use of drugs or alcohol, and they might even like me for who I am?!” And that was a beautiful thing. Life is a beautiful thing. I never thought I could make it to four years clean and sober. With the right attitude, essentially anything is possible.

My reflection: This young man calls out many important parts of the recovery process and delineates the numerous epiphanies that happen along the way. I often hear addicts talk about the rays of hope that enter when things are at their worst and the personal bottoms that ignite the gift of desperation where real change takes hold.

Today’s Promise to consider: This young man’s words remind us all that with addiction there is hope and that sobriety is possible. He discovered that life can be a beautiful thing. Our prayer is that all our suffering children fight for and embrace life in recovery.

 

 

 

AM I CAPABLE OF FOLLOWING THE GENTLEST PATH?

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Photo Credit: Patrisha Lauria

Jeff sent me a passage from a Taoist book he’s reading: Like water, we’re encouraged to follow the gentlest path through life. In the face of obstacles, let us be fluid and flow downward to bend around trees and fallen branches. And when encountering rocks, let us rise like water vapor to float across the sky. 

(paraphrased, Eva Wong, Being Taoist: Wisdom for Living a Balanced Life, 2015)

My reflection: When Jeff sent me this passage, I reflected on his fourteen years of active addiction and realized that I was anything but water flowing gently. I fought the addiction with every ounce of my being. True, it did me no good and I stopped nothing. I was neither powerful nor strong enough to stop the destruction.

Today’s Promise to consider: With addiction, is it possible to follow a gentle path? Can I be subtle as vapor and rise above such heavy obstacles? I must stop getting mired in things I can’t control. For today, I will do my best to handle adversity with grace and objectivity. I will let go of anxiety and suffering. Join me?

 

I TRIED EVERYTHING HUMANLY POSSIBLE

jeff_TMA mom wrote to me: I tried everything humanly possible to save my son. And then I let go. I have so much love and gratitude for the peace I am now experiencing. I have no illusions for tomorrow. I went to three funerals of young people in ten days.

My reflection: I, too, tried everything humanly possible to stop my son’s addiction. I paid to get him out of trouble, forced him into recovery, and tracked him down whenever he couldn’t be found. After fourteen years of trying to control my son’s addiction, I surrendered with love.

Today’s Promise to consider: It was only after acknowledging that I did everything in my power to stop Jeff’s addiction, was I able to let go. It was sobering, but crucial for me to realize that no matter how much of myself I poured into his illness, the choice to stop was his alone. When I surrendered with love, I felt peace.

 

I’M IN CONTROL OF JUST ONE PERSON: MYSELF

TM.3A dad wrote to me: I got so tired of the lies and the constant drama that our family was brought into. We parents care so much for our children that it’s really difficult to watch them self-destruct. I’m getting much better at realizing that I am in control of just one person: myself. I think prayer is the only answer.

My reflection: It’s incredibly difficult to admit that we can’t control the behavior of our addicted loved ones. It was unfathomable to me that Jeff wouldn’t listen, even when I threatened dire consequences. My dad’s words rang in my ears, “Tell him to stop, daughter. Dammit. Tell him to stop.”

Today’s Promise to consider: Once at an Al-Anon meeting, the speaker held a hula-hoop over her head and then dropped it around her and onto the floor. She pointed to her feet and the space inside the hoop, “I can control only what’s inside this hoop.” It was a simple visual that resonated deeply with me. My son had his own hoop. I had mine. There’s only room for one in an addiction.

WHAT IS IMPORTANT IN THE LONG RUN?

TM.FullSizeRender (2)A mom wrote to me: He doesn’t call for weeks. Then calls and says his cell phone was stolen from his car that he left unlocked while he went into a convenience store for a second. The next week he lost his dog, saying he left the window open, the dog got frightened, hopped out the window and ran away. Stories don’t jive. But I just listen. Dog is found. Wait for the next crisis. What is important in the long run I ask myself? Don’t criticize, just listen. Don’t give advice. He’s 41. Just stay close.

My reflection: With addiction, there is always drama and chaos. During the years that Jeff was using, I felt as if I were walking on floorboards that weren’t nailed down. As I walked, I was never sure when a board would come loose and hit me in the back of my head.

Today’s Promise to consider: The addict chases the drug and we chase the addict. Addiction throws us into a state of constant apprehension and worry as we wait for the next traumatic event. It is a depleting, debilitating cycle. What is important in the long run? I agree with this mother who wrote, “Don’t criticize, just listen. Don’t give advice. Just stay close.” I had to learn how to stay close, but out of the chaos of my son’s addiction.

WHEN WILL HE BE READY TO CHANGE?

04-Jeff photo shoot 304A mother wrote to me: Our son, who is now 26, cannot get sober from heroin addiction. He was clean for eight months, got married and is back on it again. He has been an addict since he was 19, starting with marijuana, then methamphetamine and now heroin. He has been in jail, then prison and at this time he is on probation again. He has been to five or six rehabs. How long will this last? When will he ever be ready to change?

My reflection: The answer to this question would be like finding the Holy Grail. All of us who love an addict want to know, “When will that moment of clarity happen?” Our prayer is that it happens before it’s too late.

Today’s Promise to consider: I had to admit that I had no power over my son or his addiction. I had to admit that I wasn’t in control of when he would be ready to change. I had to admit that I had no ability to stem the endless stream of negative consequences that resulted from his using. All I could do was stay close and pray that he would soon reach that moment of grace when he would make a decision to change.

ADDICTION IS A FAMILY DISEASE         

TM_061 (2)A mother wrote to me: I am the mother of a heroin addict. I wake up sick to my stomach with fear for my whole family. The impact is great and it’s tearing us apart. My son is 20 and has been into drugs since age 14 – in residential treatment for nine months at 17. He has been clean for six months and living with grandparents out of state, but wants desperately to come home, be with his friends and go back to college. My husband won’t hear of it and neither will one of his brothers. It is so hard to be the mother. I would tear out my heart and give it to him if it were to heal him and this family.

My reflection: Addiction takes prisoners. First it takes our child, and then it guns down the entire family. Parents argue, a mother’s heart breaks, a father is compelled to protect his family and siblings are angry and confused.

Today’s Promise to consider: When addiction took over my family, chaos reigned. I was drowning. In the process, I learned to educate myself and to reach out my hand to family groups like Al-Anon. I needed support for me before I could help my family and my addicted loved one. Today, I refuse to lose myself in the addiction.

 

TAKING OUR HANDS OFF THE CONTROLS

IMG_0170.TM (1)In the 1950s, a few highly trained pilots in the US Air Force were set a life-or-death task to fly at altitudes higher than ever before attempted. Going beyond the earth’s denser atmosphere, a plane could skid into a flat spin … and then start tumbling. The first pilots responded by frantically trying to stabilize their planes. The more ferociously they manipulated their controls, the wilder the ride became. They plunged to their deaths. Until Chuck Yeager inadvertently struck upon the solution. When his plane began tumbling, he was thrown violently around the cockpit and knocked out. Unconscious, he plummeted toward earth. When the plane reentered the planet’s denser atmosphere, Yeager came to, steadied the craft and landed safely.  

(Paraphrased from Radical Acceptance, Tara Brach, Ph.D., pgs. 49-50.) 

My reflection: When Jeff was in active addiction, the last thing I wanted to do was take my hands off the controls. When I was growing up, my dad used to say, “You gotta make something happen.” In the face of addiction, I tried desperately to make something happen and save my son. Helpless and distraught, fourteen years later I learned to let go and let God.

Today’s Promise to consider: When facing active addiction, it is often necessary to take our hands off the controls. We can stay close and love our son or daughter – that never changes, but he or she needs to make the decision to change. Today, I’ll pause and admit that I’m not at the helm of my child’s sobriety.

 

 

“WE ADMITTED WE WERE POWERLESS…”

IMG_0174.TM (1)A recovering addict told me, I changed my life when I surrendered. Finally, I realized that I kept repeating the same story over and over – drugs, get caught, prison, get out, try again without drugs, can’t do it, so drugs again, prison again. It was my 4th time in prison, and I was stuck. I couldn’t see myself outside of prison. It was always the same story. In the end, I admitted that I needed help.

My reflection: The Big Book tells the addict that Step One is, We admitted we were powerless over alcohol – that our lives had become unmanageable. I remember Jeff trying in vain, over and over, to control his use. He never could. Similarly, I tried to control the addiction, forcing Jeff into treatment centers and cutting him off from family money. Nothing worked.

Today’s Promise to consider: Addiction was bigger than both Jeff and me. Real change only happened when we both admitted our powerlessness. Just as the addict has to surrender and admit that he needs help, I did too. I was powerless over my son’s addiction and my life had become unmanageable. This was the beginning of my healing.