Confessions

For once, I am not talking about addicts here but about people who get involved with addicts, drunks, narcissists etc. I have heard (don't know where) that there is some sort of movement in the psychiatric community to identify as a mental disorder the condition of people who have been involved with the above "usual suspects," to identify their (our?) common characteristics and presumably to set out some sort of guidelines for their (our?) treatment. I have also heard that if you can name something you can control it. So thinking about myself, as I so often do, I come to the topic of scapegoating and the young child. A family court services mediator once told me that children up to a certain age believe that anything bad that happens is their own fault. For example, while you're at school, the dog is hit by a car -- the child's fault. More critically to a family court services mediator, the parents get divorced -- the child's fault. I actually saw this one: Mom leaves her purse unattended in the grocery cart and someone swipes it -- the child's fault. Mother started screaming at her crippled about 12-year-old that everything was his fault. Her boy was limping after her saying "Mother, I'm sorry." I almost fainted I got so anxious. Did you know there's nowhere to sit down and put your head between your knees at a Target store? Look around next time. For whatever reason, some people are trained to be scapegoats (and here's where I get to the point) and are prepared later on to take the blame for other people's sorrows with certain consequences. I am so eager to see if the next Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM) sets out the recipe for that kind, my kind of psychological cooking. Cause I only know a few of my ingredients to this day. also, can you imagine the big drug companies coming out with a target anti-depressant for co-dependents and scapegoats? A pill would make things so much easier. The Serenity Prayer and talk therapy are so slow-acting. If there's a genetic component to accepting the scapegoat role in life, there may be hope from stem cell research... I am going off the deep end here, but if you can't laugh at yourself, who can you laugh at? But do others see a scapegoat/co-dependent connection? I should add here that in general and except for being unhappy a lot, we co-dependents are awfully nice, the salt of the earth, really.

 Hi Everyone. I've posted several times previously regarding my 23 year old son Evan. Evan is a heroin addict. I have not had much of a relationship with him at all for the past 2 years. Sure there was lots of incidents with him thru out this time. But, after he did not successfully move past  a 1  week at a "halfway house in Dec....I had enough COMPLETELY. I've done everything I had told him I would do from day 1  of this nightmare. I thought that was the route to go. I told him if my suspicions were right...I would do all I could to save his life. I did that despite the repercussions that had the potential to arise. If he choose to hate me...so be it. I love, loved him enough to know I could live with his dislike of me. Evan has 2 heroin possession charges on his "resume". Both of those charges resulted in my home. I made the calls to the PD. I waited at the door( both times for the officers) . I handed bundles of heroin to them as well on (both occasions). I didn't warn him who was about to arrive. I watched him be searched,  saw more heroin recovered on his body as they cuffed him( both times).  All of this occurred almost 2  years ago. I intended to prove to him that I would not tolerate his poor choices. Back then, I assumed he would stop it right away. That my threats would magically turn his life around. He wouldn't continue. I now know it's not quite that simple. Yet, I don't feel defeated or "stupid" at my misgivings. When he would come around, I'd call the law on him. Just as I said I would. I changed my number because of him. If family betrayed me by giving him my numbers....I'd change it again. If he emailed me ...I forwarded to the PD. So, it's been almost 2  years , this "nightmare". But, the real , very definitive cutoff came in the fall before he did his 1st rehab stay, 33 days. I told him I wouldn't change anything I've been doing (relating) to him until he completed the rehab, successfully conquered his stay at the halfway house.  I talked with his therapist in Nov. @ rehab once I received notice in mail where Evan was , and learned there were questions the therapist wanted to ask me. I called rehab. I asked that therapist not give my number to Evan. He assured me he would not. But, he didn't follow through. Evan began calling me. I did not pickup each time. Occasionally...very rarely honestly. He sounded so good. When he made it to the halfway house...I was so hopeful. But, I know "hopeful". I've seen it before. Once he went to a detox for 5 days then home. My hope faded hours after he returned . Within 2  hours of his return ...I suspected..... I scanned his arms to confirm my suspicions. I didn't have a good visual of him. I saw all I needed to see when I went into the bathroom after he came out. My hope was lost the moment I saw the heroin bundles on my bathroom floor.  That incident is what lead him to his rehab , first try. Rehab came in the fall, he got kicked out of halfway house in Jan after a week. I may have now and then gave "into him" , communicating with him in the beginning. Once he was removed from halfway house....I really stuck to my "guns".  He was cut off in every way possible. That brings me to why I'm writing tonight's posting. After cutting him off fully , not trying to find him since his exit at halfway house he appeared with my brother , in front of my home the other morning. I have not spoken to my brother for months due to his disapproval of  my stance with Evan. Evans very first words to me that morning was " Mom, I didn't do anything really bad but ....can I have you back in my life"? I tell him . ABSOLUTELY not! I informed him ( that I'M) learning to live without him because of his poor choices.  My brother then gets out of car. He says to me " he found my son damn near dead in his bathroom several nights ago". I asked if  now" had my son staying with him". He looks at me and xxx says "yes, I love that boy. I can't be a *****" to him like you have been for months. At that moment, I normally "cave in, ask to much of this , that... begin reinvesting myself in all the details of this madness"'.  For once I said it loudly, proudly that no matter what he had to say to me...I'm confident in doing , saying what I want in relation to my son's sickness. I then told him " your love is only killing him. That roof over his head, that food he provides Evan is only comforting him, allowing himself to remain dependent on drugs , and the freedom to not worry about tomorrow. Until, Evan has been left to figure every aspect of life out on his own....a drug addict he will remain.  He continued to disagree with me . I continued to repeat once again how his love is only kidding him.  I shut the conversation down by reminding him ....I stand strong with my words. I wasn't about to change anything regarding Evan. I got the strength to do that because each of you. In the thoughts. expressed, words, stories shared on here...collectively it has given me the strength to all those who oppose my choices regarding my son. I'm not alone. I can assure you ...had it not be from this site, each of you all who have shared on here...I very much would be alone. It's as if everyone else in my life, family, friends walked away from my life. So, thank you all for being apart of this madness with me. It's so comforting!!! 

Again, thank you !

 

Yes it is true that I don't talk to my AD about her addiction anymore, there is nothing more to say. She however is telling the world her story, the newspaper, the radio, she and I feel if you dont talk about it, you cant solve the problems. We have teamed up and joined NCADD, National Council of Alcohol and Drug Dependence. They work on educating DRs about overprescribing, educating, changing laws, providing narcan more widely, minimizing wait times for beds, treatment instead of incarceration and so much more. Addiction is a medical epidemic and if we don't make some noise, the problems we ll face will not change. If you see a screening of the "anonymous People" in your area, I highly recommend it and read the book "guts" by Kristen Johnston, star who turned activist after her addiction almost killed her.

 Hello everyone,

Its been awhile since I've been here but with addiction no longer a major issue in my life it is easy to turn my thoughts and energy else where and I am very grateful for that. 

Things are going well for my daughter and son in law (H addict for those of you who don't know) and all of our lives are "normal" for the time being.  They are both working full time and relieved that school is out for the summer.  I don't know if I ever told everyone that my (youngest, married to the addict)daughter went back to school for her Masters.  Her thinking is that seeings how hubby is studying in all his spare time she might as well too and they should both be done about the same time.  He lost a couple of years to active addiction and is playing catch up.  I am very proud of them both.

While catching up on here I was glad to read in one of Martys posts that she doesn't talk about addiction with her daughter.  I never do either and I was wondering if it was just me or if it was a normal thing for families with addicts in recovery.  He was always very willing to answer any questions I might have had but the more time that passes the more I put it behind me.  Isn't that what we're suppossed to do?  After all...how can someone more forward if they are always reminded of the past.  Anyways as far as that part of my life things are good.  I am even hoping that someday I might even have some grandkids.  Of course that brings up a whole new set of issues dealing with addiction and I remind myself to take things one day at a time.  Funny how after being thrown into the addiction world that "one day at a time" seems to be everyones motto.

Some of you may remember my telling you of a tenant we once had who is an addict.  Stopped by when we were cleaning a place he used to live in and told us he now had 8 yrs of recovery under his belt and thanked us for helping him though we really didn't know what we had done other than treat him decently... Well....we were cleaning the same place again and he once again stopped by (he lives down the street and saw our car).  He is getting married in June and invited us to the wedding!  I am very happy for him.  As so many addicts do, he had such a self-inflicted disfunctional life at one time, lost a wife to a cocaine induced heart attack at 40, lost a son to drunk driving (the kid was driving) it is nice to see him doing so well now with 10+ years of sobriety. 

On another front...many of you know I have/had many addicts of one sort or another waltz through my life.  Some of them are relatives that do a continual dance but I try to keep my distance.  Not always so easy...seems like an in law who we sold a place to has developed some sort of problem...not really sure yet what it is.  We just had to repo a place from him that he had not made a payment on for 9 months...came to find out he had not paid the taxes nor had insurance on the place either.  There is definately some kind of problem here...we are thinking maybe gambling.  I know he is a heavy pot smoker but he has done that forever.  He is acting like a typical addict...evasive, decietful, avoiding us, always blaming someone else for his lack of $$.  He hasn't admitted to us what the problem is but he gave us no problems with the forclosure and signed the property back willingly...after he had keep the rent from the tenants for 9 months and let the taxes and ins lapse.  So whatever.  He had taken on a roommate for a while who was known around town as a meth head but he gave him the boot.  I'm hoping there is not an addiction to drugs(besides pot) as well as gambling and hoping that he is able to save himself before he looses everything.  He has been here before 30 years ago and saved himself so we are hoping he can do it again before too much damage is done.  This man is 57 years old and at one time owned a very profitable aircraft repair business.  Just goes to show that addiction can rear its head at anytime and that it isn't always substances that is the problem.

Anyways, just wanted to check in while I had the time and was in the mood.  Congrats to those addicts and families who are doing well and for those addicts and families of addicts who are not doing so well hang in there and don't give up hope.  Take care of yourselves because in the end it really is all anyone can do. We all know than an addict has to save themself.  Hugs to you all.

Sorry to be so long winded but just felt like blabbin I guess.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

http://www.lehighvalleylive.com/warren-county/express-times/index.ssf/2014/05/centenary_college_grad_using_o.html

Just an update. Today there was a meeting about my mother moving to a differnt dimentia care home because of her continuing aggression. Other residents have become a friend of her, and she has been mildly violent again. Given the people she lives with (all in their 80s and 90s), there is probably nothing like mildly violent. She is VERY medicated and still acting out. Apparently, her husband is being required to find another place for her to go,but he is 92 years old and so weak in so many ways. For 92, he is one of the world's heroes. I don't have knowledge of UK services and facilities nor do I have her power of attorney for health care. Nor is she mentally competent to give it to me. As for my son: like Dyanne's son last month, he is in a sort of honeymoon period. He continues to use and we continue to subsidize him, but he is using marijuana less, his periodic rages are less with the diabetes pump, and he seems somewhat apologetic and loving at times. In fact, his Mother's Day telephone call (we are out of town for several weeks) was all that one could hope for and he usually has disdained being two-faced. What will I be saying a month from now.

"If you want to know the mind of a person, listen to their words..if you want to know their heart..watch their actions..~Lisa Prosen I need to get a lot better learning this distinction. Especially since my son is an expert at setting me up with empty gestures. He may seemingly be doing the right thing, but the whole while he is setting me up for a fall. He does not want to do the hard work of recovery. He intends to be a "functional addict" - or as he told me it's "none of my business" as long as he can hold a job. Except it is my business when he is still harassing me for money (court fines & state fines)..and not insignificant amounts. He has the money for booze and maybe drugs but not his other debts. We did all we could to prevent him from digging this gaping hole..I don't intend to lie in it anymore..

You dont know withdrawals until you find yourself standing in the rain, and the drops on your skin feel like needles stabbing your skin from detoxing, all over your arms and face

I saw my daughter with addiction last week. It has been so long since I have seen my daughter, the one I love and recognize.  The one who inhabits her body resembles little of the one I love.  So, I distance myself by referring to her in my mind as Formerly Known As... When I think of the Cate I love, the loss is stunning, a magnitude unimaginable heretofore.

Anyway, I did see her last week.  I had a party for my grandson.  My daughter S, his mother, invited her sister Cate. S lives out of town and has been out of town for several years. S has not witnessed much of the addiction nightmare.

Cate arrived on time, so far under the influence, that she was nodding off in the middle of the party. The unrecognizable stranger in our midst. I chose not to make her the focus of the party, and ignored her.

She is 26 and she looked 36, tired, haggard.  She was once a beautiful young woman.  Her addiction is wearing her out.

after Cate left, S commented that she saw nothing of her sister in the person named Cate, and how terribly sad that is.

a few days ago, Cate called from an ER...she had another bout of cellulitis (deep skin infection), again on her face. The last one a few months ago left a 1 inch by 1/4 inch scar/deep pockmark on her nose.  It is literally a chunk out of her face. This one was by her eye.She cried, said she had nothing, nobody, and was homeless.

The next day, she asked me to call a program (residential treatment for homeless women)for her.  I declined.  I said that was up to her, that she would make that call when she was ready.  She said no that I should call.  I replied that I no longer did that; I'd done it for ten years, and it was my effort, not hers.  It was time for her to make the effort and own her life.

I hope she makes that call.  If she does not, she is not long for this world.  She is very ill, Her body and her mind are failing.

All this, and still she uses.

I left and moved all if my apartment furniture, clothes, almost everything out of the apartment. Police escorted out for protection. I was over the downers and uppers. I was over being mistreated. I was over being lied to. I was over being scared to lose my freedom. I was over worrying out his freedom. I was ready to get away from crack and morphine from the time I woke up to the time I went to sleep. I was over everything losing my mind. Emotionally distraught, emotionally hopeless. Exhausted from going through full body and mind painful withdrawals for nothing. I was tired of my neighbors that were crack abusers. I stayed gone for two weeks hardly having as much contact with him. He sent me a picture of him going to kill himself. I called and called no answer. I threatened an ambulance, or the police, no answer. I told him I called them and made a report when I hadn't yet, no answer. Instantly I knew something was wrong. I called 911 and gave them our apartment address "Grainger Ave Knoxville Tennessee" explained he had purposly overdosed, I just knew. I emotionally could feel it, I knew something was drastically wrong. The police officer assisted me on the phone he mentioned our green truck was outside, the door was locked, and only the light of the television was on in our apartment. He said he did not have enough evidence to break in the door. I then panicked and knew he had overdosed. I explained to them my concerns he told me my only option was to use my key to get into the apartment. So at three in the morning I rushed to Broadway. The police and ambulance were gone but on standby over the phone. They had to do their jobs rather than waiting on me. I arrived in panic I frantically opened my door to find him unconscious on our couch. I immediately ran to him to terrified to check his breathing, and the temperature of his skin, because he looked dead. My mother came inside, and seen me panicing. I screamed in demand for an ambulance over the phone in panic, upset that they didn't break our door down. He wasn't hardly breathing matter of a fact if he was it was so light I couldn't feel/see/or hear it. I opened his eyes and I couldn't even see anything but the white part. He was overdosing, he was dying. I kept screaming at him. Healing over him, telling him to wake up. I slapped him on his face, and kept shaking him hoping that he could at least hear me, or feel me and it would keep him alive. He hardly had a pulse. I was a mess, I was crying, I was so scared. I got up a minute not wanting him to get in trouble so I hid his rig in the floor and spoon. When the ambulance pulled up and the police i looked through his phone to find out what he had last bought and over dosed on. i told them from what i researched it was morphine, xanax, crack, and heroin. They pulled me away from him, and put me outside, because was freaking out. They gave him a shot and whenever they took him out he was awake, but he was upset and freaking out questioning what I had done. He looked like death walking out the door, he was so weightless, pale, skinny, and sick looking in the face. They took him away the ambulance. When he made it back he said they pumped his stomach, They made him swallow coal. He had the runs, and was upset he was shitting disgusting black stuff. I had changed his number and deleted all of his text messages, and drug connection phone numbers. He was already pissed off, and when he seen that he broke everything in our apartment. Went to our room away from me, and **** slammed the door. Thirty minutes later he came out told me to get in the truck. It was daylight. We pulled up infront of a property he stole 900.00 worth of equipment, sold it within two hours, and went and bought us morphine 100s.