What a Wonderful Miracle You Are

Well, I have been lying awake in a hotel staring at my phone, trying to go back go sleep. Tomorrow we will make the rest of the trip to her destination for the next 12 months. We have talked and laughed and told stories and she has talked to some close friends and all of her family. Everyone has been so supportive of this step she is taking. She had boxes and boxes of clothes from my sister and mother-in-law and she sorted through those and tried things on to determine what she could wear. We pushed the luggage cart in with all the plastic storage bins and trash bags of clothes. We couldn't stop laughing because we could barely push the thing. It is moments like this that I miss so much. Laughing until we snort over ridiculous things. She got to take a bath and shower and shave her legs, which took about 3 razors. Hahaha.

When I was gathering up her belongings, it boiled me as to how many times she has had cars, clothes, furniture-- just gone. Wrecked, stolen, sold, etc. How does her life become a few plastic crates? All for a 1 minute rush of a needle. She told me about how sick she got from withdrawal but that the fear of getting sick or "dope sick" is probably worse than the actual withdrawal. The withdrawal was hell, don't get me wrong. She said though she felt it was the smartest detox she had ever done because after a week or so, she started feeling so much better and clearer. She said many times "It just is not worth it."

As she was in the bath, I saw her back, arms and legs scarred from the abuse this devil has brought into her life. That is my baby. Although 25 years old, she will always be my baby. I hate seeing it. It makes me physically sick. Sadly, on the way up here, we learned of another young girl who lost her life yesterday. This has just got to stop. This is going to keep happening if we don't stop this steamroller. I heard KOAM is doing a special on Heroin in the Heartland. I hope they explore why these dealers aren't being charged as accessories in these young people's deaths. I wonder sometimes if it will take a higher person of authority to lose a child to addiction before they grasp the power of  this epidemic. I would not wish that hell on anyone. I just wish more people would listen to those of us who are living it. I wish the drug arrests were more vigilant. No family has 2 years to wait for the feds to investigate something. When I saw on the news they made arrests last month after a "two year investigation" I wanted to scream. "People, we don't have two years to wait!! We are losing our kids!" I understand that the feds want the "big bust" but its the dealers locally who are selling the death  potion to our families and killing people. Bust them! Quit letting them get slapped on the hand and thrown back out into the world. If things don't change, its going to end up being a person like me, who has had ENOUGH who takes the law into my own hands. Seriously. It has got to stop. Something must be done to hold these people accountable so they can learn there are consequences.

I struggle too as I think of a local family who lost their precious son in a tragic accident. I didnt know him, but know of his character and he was a great person who had a good head on his shoulders and a bright future. Why is he gone and these people slinging dope are still around? He was living life the right way. It is so unfair. I feel guilty. How is my beautiful daughter still alive with all risks she has taken with her life? I know God has a plan, but it is so hard to comprehend why horrible things happen to good people doing good in their lives.

How did the girl pass yesterday at such a young age but mine has managed to live through so much?

I can only hope and pray that it is so she can help change lives. She has so much support, prayers, love and opportunity ahead of her. After her horrible car accident, my sister bought her some "wall words" that I hung in her bedroom. It said, "What a Wonderful Miracle You Are."  Indeed. She is a miracle. She has a lot to battle and a lot of consequences for her actions--but she can do it. Today is the first day of the rest of her life...

My prayers are with those families who lost their children. My heart breaks for you.

The Little Brother Visit...

I've kept this one tucked in my head for several days, but it's just too sweet of a story not to tell.

Last Friday, I couldn't do my jailhouse visit...so I asked my son to take my place. If you know my son, well, then you know he isn't one that frequents the local jails nor do his friends, thank God.

He is an accountant (newly graduated from college and employed), so he had his dress clothes and headed to the county jail to visit his sister.  He arrived 20 minutes early. If you know him--he is punctual to everything. He has always been that way. Early to practice, early to bed, early to rise, early, early, early. I think because I was always and still am late to everything, it annoyed him so much, that he decided he would not be that way. I did tell him, visiting a jail is not a time you want to be early, especially when you have 15 minutes with the person and have to wait your turn. I kept secretly giggling to myself, trying to find some sort of twisted humor in visualizing my handsome, strapping, lad of a son, sitting outside in the lobby. His first encounter was with a man who was very upset that his son was in jail on such a high bond. He kept complaining to my son, "he was framed" and "he didn't even do anything wrong." Finally my son said in his jovial tone, "Yea, my sister has been "framed before" and "someone else did it"...we've heard those before too...and she is sitting back there also." He couldn't get over the way that man believed his son over anyone else. Classic enabling for sure.

He is such a happy person. Always looks for the good in every scenario and is like a duck that water just rolls off his back. I have only seen him sad, or mad, or cry on few occasions and I think other than the deaths of grandparents, his sister has been his official proverbial stab through his heart. He LOVEEEES his sister. No matter what, he just will not ever give up on his sister. He doesn't care how much hatred she has spewed, or how many times we've all heard the "I'll never do it again" story--he still will tell you he loves her deeply. He wasn't sure what to expect, visiting her at jail. She didn't know he was coming.

They called his number, and he went back to see her and said he immediately felt a sense of relief. They both started just smiling from ear to ear. She said "You cut your hair! You look all grown up! You are so handsome!" She was just blown away his long locks of hair from his football years were gone. Gone was the days of college sweats and tennis shoes and now it's button ups, slacks and dress shoes. She kept saying over and over how old and grown up he was and he said "Well, I have grown up. I've been growing up for the last 5-6 years. You just haven't noticed because you've been busy doing other things." He then said to lighten the mood, he said, "But I love your outfit. That orange is real nice." She gave him a courtesy laugh. He said they had the greatest conversation and even got their joke in about me and my "blogging my little heart out" and he said the time flew by.

He called me after he walked out and said "I am so glad I came. I feel so good about this. Even if it doesn't work and she doesn't make it---for 15 minutes I had my sister back. I got to spend 15 more minutes with my real Addi." He said he could not stop smiling.

I hope he gets his sister back for good some day. I know how much he loves her. I'm so grateful that she has had his support and faith in her for all this time. She has broken his heart many times, and as tonight, her life is getting ready to change tomorrow---he was in his room, reading his Bible and praying for her. Faith. Such a strong trait. He has so much and I'm learning to have "some."

I can't sleep. I feel like I have a date with a stranger tomorrow. Hoping all goes well and we arrive at our destination safely. Hoping we run into no one we know on our way out into the abyss and unknown and her new beginning. Hoping she stays the girl he saw on Friday. Hoping I don't have to throw her out of my car as we are speeding on two tires to get her as far away from JoMo as possible. She needs a clean, fresh start--and by the Grace of God, it begins tomorrow. She is clean 22 days tomorrow. No meds of any kind. She says she is ready for change. We shall see....

Please pray for us as we make this journey and pray that her heart opens up to a new concept of life. I honestly hope she never returns to this area...and forewarning...this "area" better not come looking for her. She needs to let go of here. It's time to move on. It's time for all the demons that have held her back, to also let her go. I have faith. I truly do. You can't be in the shape she was in and live to tell about it, usually. She is here for a reason.

I look forward to the day that her "little brother" can look at her and say "Wow, you have grown up. You are an adult. You really did it."

Shame and Venting

Obviously it wasn't easy to start blogging. It took encouragement from friends, family, approval from my daughter and support from my biggest ally--my husband.  Throwing yourself out into the public shaming or embarrassment or gossip topic is never easy, but I got to the point, that I really don't care about those thing if it saves someone's life. During the last week, I have been bombarded with messages from families just like ours who are struggling to keep their loved one afloat. I've been given pictures of family members and been told stories to share regarding many people and their addiction. I promise each of you that have shared your story--I will get it out there. I just simply am overwhelmed with the responses...so bare with me as I sort through them. I try to answer each and every message though.

Although 99% of the feedback has been good--we have had some negative. One family in particular sent me a picture of their son, who passed away of an opiate overdose. He was unmarried and his mother and stepfather are active in addiction recovery groups. His mother also asked his biological father for his blessing to share. They should be really the only people that matter, in my opinion. Yes, I do agree that siblings also have a key role and have to deal with as much grief as a parent, so I don't look past their role either. Over the last two days the berating this family took on the page, really infuriated me. I deleted the foul mouthed, nasty comment received today, but I wanted to fire back a foul mouthed response. I decided that was not the way to go. Being the day after Easter, I chose to turn the other cheek. However, if anyone has a complaint--they are welcome to privately message me---but do NOT berate the families who choose to tell their story. They have every right to be heard, to mourn, to talk, to openly share---without your shame.  I have never even met this family in person, so it was the first time that I posted a picture without knowing personally a story--I knew there was going to be some risk involved and I'm a big girl. I can handle backlash. What I can't handle is ignorance. Ignorance solves nothing and when you decide to bash a family on a public forum who buried their son and are trying to impact other people's lives in a positive manner--that is ignorance. Please have respect for those who do so or I will utilize the "block" feature in the future.

Dealing with addiction is personal. I completely get that. I would never post someone's photo or story or quote them without their permission or request. Ever. Not even my own daughter. I think every family deserves to deal with their pain in their own way. I've had many people write me just to talk to me, not to publicly share but just to talk---and I respect that. It is their choice as to whether they want to share their story. They deserve to read, think, pray, meditate or even just speak through me. It's their right. I would never cross that boundary.

The problem with getting this topic discussed openly with kids is the fact that even adults are scared to talk about it. It is the big elephant in the room and it is getting bigger by the minute. If you want your children to be able to open up to you, to be able to confess they need help--open up that communication with them. It's not a pleasant topic--but it's a needed topic. If your friends are doing things that could kill them---TELL SOMEONE. Don't be silent out of "respect" for them. How is it respectful to watch someone die?? Please tell me what kind of "friendship" that is---because to me, it is not friendship--it is selfishness and it is irresponsible and it is not a friendship. To be loyal to someone's use of drugs when they are a kid, is not doing them a favor. To know that someone's son or daughter is using drugs is not something you gossip about or use as a topic behind their back---step up and tell their parents. If more people had the courage to step forward, think of how many others could be helped or even lives saved.

Denial is a huge part of addiction and whether its the addict or their loved ones in denial, it's a problem. Maybe someone thinks their addiction is under control or that they can stop it when they want--but that is part of the tightrope they are walking, without a net.

If this blog does anything positive, I want it to get people to think and pay attention.  I want them to understand the threats our children face and learn from the signs that I missed. If sharing a picture of my daughter being an addict, makes me a bad person in your eyes, so be it. She is my daughter and it is my choice. It is her addiction and she allows me to share it. She allows me to share it because she wants to save someone else. Sharing it is the not the answer for every family and that is their personal choice. No one should be shamed to do one or the other. This is about learning. This is about awareness. If I can be the voice for a mom who has a daughter sitting in a jail cell tonight, like mine is--then that is my right to do so.

If an addict chooses to show their picture on my page and say they are clean or they are battling, then that is their choice. They should be commended. They are trying to help others. Do not shame anyone on my page. If shame is your goal--then you perhaps need to look in the mirror at your own demons staring back at you.

How Many Spoons are in YOUR Drawer???...and Does your Athlete REALLY need that Hydro????

Spoons. What a crazy tool in the drug world. We all have spoons in our home. Heck, you can go to Walmart and buy a pack of 5 for pretty cheap. I know, because I've had to go buy them...multiple times. My spoons are mismatched. I hate spoons. They aggravate me. I think, "How can drug addicts never hold a JOB, let alone an engineering job, since they can come up with the craziest ways of using common household goods such as a utensil for their drug use?"

I mentioned the spoon problem in one of my first blogs but I feel sometimes my warnings are falling on deaf ears. No one ever cares about "awareness" of issues until they are personally and painfully aware of that particular issue. I'm guilty of it. Sure I click on the "support the cause" buttons but do I have a clue how a mom feels who has a child with cancer? No, I have no clue. I have no clue what it feels like to deal with racism. I have no clue what it is like to deal with many things. I do, unfortunately have a clue what it feels like to be the mom of a drug addict. I sit here tonight, blogging and have absolutely no clue what tomorrow will bring for my daughter--which is why I am pounding my chest and trying to get YOUR attention.

Today I was thinking about my son. The kid has played sports since he could walk. He's had ankle, foot, finger, arm, head, shoulder, leg and you name it injuries. I was thinking back to the times we had to go to the ER after a sports related injury and how often he was written a script for "hyrdros". Thankfully, he never wanted them even filled because of his sister's issues with opiates. This year, however, his Senior year of college football ended with a knee injury. He had surgery. The doctor prescribed 40 hydrocodone. They gave him some immediately after surgery and told me to give him more about 6 hours later and then try to taper off to Advil. When it came time for his dose, I gave it to him and within 30 minutes he was puking up his brains. My 3 year old came running up the hall full speed and said "Dear Lord, D is sick... D is sick!!! Oh dear Lord he is sick." He sure was sick. He looked up at me and said "Why do people get hooked on this crap? It's the worst feeling in the world."  Well, he had to go back to college and to rehab his leg, so he took his 38 pain pills with him. I was so nervous about it--but who was I to judge his threshold of pain? He said "Mom, I'm not going to become a drug addict. It's ok."  I reluctantly gave him the "hydros" to go back to school.  

In December, he graduated. He moved his belongings home so he could look for a job. He immediately left town to go to Colorado with a group of friends. His bathroom adjoins my 3 year olds. He had boxes scattered around and there sit the prescription bottle in the box of toiletries in his bathroom. I called my husband into the room and said "Oh my gosh. Count them." He said "How many should be in there?" I said, "Well, I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt and allow him a dose of 2 more since he has been rehabbing his knee...so how about 36?" He counted them and said, "There are 38 pills." I wanted to cry with joy. I took them and locked them up and to this day, 3 months later--he has not even seemed to notice they are gone. 

Would you know how many pills your child is supposed to have? Have you ever counted? This is where we, as parents MUST stop the madness. They don't need them. They don't need a pill for every tooth pulled, every sprained ankle, even broken bone. They can survive on Tylenol or Aleve or Advil. I promise...they can...cause my son has done it. 

I know that every parent wants to give their kid the benefit of the doubt but be aware. That is all I ask. Count your spoons, lock up your meds, look for straws around, check your child's room for aluminum foil...NOTICE THESE THINGS. I didn't. Don't give them the hydros. Don't give them free reign of your medicine cabinet. Teach your kid that the pain relief that hydro may give them, may not be worth it. My children's high school was and is still blessed with an awesome athletic trainer. Even after surgery, he tells parents to cut off the pain med within the week. Sometimes it's needed. Often times, they will survive without it. NEVER let them be in control of it. Ever. It's okay to be overbearing when it comes to opiates. 

Don't let your kid become my heroin addict. Don't let your lack of awareness become your cause of awareness later. Seriously. Please. Count your spoons

Behind the Glass Window...

On April 20th, 1990--I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Back then, only parents and grandparents could come into the room and hold the newborn. My older sister absolutely fell madly in love with my daughter the moment she was born. She kept sneaking into my hospital room to hold her until eventually a nurse kicked her out of my room. She stood outside my room and would stare at her new beautiful niece through the glass at the hospital and cry because she wanted to hold her so bad. 

Today, I felt like my sister did in 1990. I visited my daughter for her 15 minute per week visitation period. I've never visited a county jail to visit someone, certainly not to visit my child. Quite frankly, I was somewhat reluctant to even go. I did go buy the 3 white t-shirts, 3 white pairs of socks, 3 white pairs of underwear and 3 white bras for her and labeled them with her name and took them to the jail on Wednesday. I hadn't really thought I would visit quite yet, but the sweetest lady works at the jail and she gave me a pep talk. She is the person who puts inmates money in the commissary, ensures their belongings get to them that you bring, and organizes visitation 3 times per week. She is definitely placed in that job by God because she is so compassionate, yet knows the rules and does not bend them. She treats the visitors with respect and is just an absolutely precious woman. She told me she had prayed with my daughter. She told me she felt her tremble. She said "Momma, she's in there. Don't give up on that little girl." I gave the usual doubtful look and shrugged my shoulders and said "I don't know what more I can do. I've tried everything." She said "Come here, let me show you something." She showed me a portrait of a beautiful blonde girl hanging on her office wall. She told me it was her granddaughter and that she had taken her life 6 years ago. She said that not a day goes by that she doesn't wish she could have one more moment to talk to her, even if it was in a jail cell. That really hit home to me because it reminded me of my friend Alissa, who is coming up on the anniversary of the loss of her son. She told me that she too, would give anything just to hold his hand one more time. Just hear his laugh, or see his eyes with life in them.

So...today I went. I walked into this room full of people. Little kids were with their mom's, and one little boy in particular struck a chord with me. He looked about 10. He looked very disenchanted to be there. We made eye contact. He almost appeared embarrassed. I just smiled at him like "Buddy, I'm with you. I'm embarrassed too--but we are out here." I found myself judging his mother for making him go to the county jail to visit his father. I thought, "He shouldn't have to do this. He should be playing with his friends or at school. He should not have to visit his father in jail!" Some of the people there were so excited to see their loved one and checked in like they had done it a zillion times before. All I kept thinking was "My car is locked. My purse is in my car...will some ass go break into my car and steal my purse while I am sitting in here? That would just be my luck...then I would probably get arrested because I may go so bat shit crazy from stress that I may just pop a cap in someone in the parking lot." This is HOW STRESSED I am and how scattered my thought process becomes. 

The sweet lady at the desk told me to wait a bit until it cleared out so we could have a bit more privacy. I guess towards the end of the hour, it isn't as busy---so as I was waiting, my phone kept ringing. My daughter had been calling me the whole day before and I wasn't answering. 1) It's collect and 2) I'm just not going to be at her beck and call. I did answer the first time yesterday and I told her I would be there for visitation. It was getting to the point that visitation hour was ending and I'm sure she was thinking I wasn't coming. They then called my name to go to stall 6. I walked back there and felt like I was on an episode of a bad tv show. There was a couple a few stalls over that were really happy to see each other and probably not prepared for the ass chewing that was about to take place in Stall 6. She sat down, we both picked up our phones and she said "Hi mom." I said "Hi." She started to cry and said "Mom, I need help. I need treatment." I felt my blood pressure hit the roof. I said "Well, you know, you were supposed to go to treatment two weeks ago but you chose to stay with your boyfriend and do heroin instead and you would still be doing heroin if you weren't in here--so how am I supposed to believe NOW you want treatment? Now it is isn't up to me--its up to you. It's up to you to prove to a judge that you deserve treatment and help. It's up to you to follow through with it, or your life is going to be looking at me through a glass for a long time---or worse, I will be looking down at your grave."  I snapped a photo of her through the glass and told her I was sending it to her brother because he was wanting to know how she was. As soon as I mentioned him, she started to sob. She held her head in her hands and cried and all I could see were the wounds and track marks up and down my baby girl's arms. It angered me more. I wanted to bawl like a baby, but instead I felt so strong that I couldn't squeeze out a tear if I tried. She said "Why did you come, if you didn't want to see me?" I said "I do want to see you. I just don't want to hear your excuses or promises any more. I want to see action. I looked straight into her eyes and I could see her in there. She's deep back there, but she's in there. I told her, "I see it in your eyes... I see my daughter, but I also see the addict wanting to get out...and I'm going to make sure the addict doesn't win." I showed her some videos and pictures on my phone and before we knew it, our 15 minutes were up. She had to go. As she stood up, her hair so long, she pulled it from her neck and I could see more marks on her neck. She said "I love you mom." I said "I love you. I love you very much. Get out your Bible and pray that God will help you fight off this devil disease. Find comfort in prayer. You have a lot of people praying for you."  She shook her head that she would and she walked away. 

I walked out into the lobby and told the lady goodbye and she said "See you next week." I said "Ok, thank you." I got into my car and cried all the way home. 

I am so glad that lady talked me into visiting. Lord, please make this be rock bottom. I cannot thank God enough that she is alive right now. It may be jail, but it's better than the prison her own life had become. 

I pray that all of you struggling with your kids are making strides and opening up communication about drugs with your children. I pray none of you ever have to look at them through a glass window. I pray even more than none of you have to bury them like my friend Alissa. 

Special prayers for the Brock family. I know it's an awful time of the year for them. I need to "count my blessings" as Alissa tells me. I definitely do. 

The Most Effective Rehab is When You Allow Your Addict to Suffer Consequences

We have spent countless hours on the phone with rehabs and counselors and facilities searching for ways to "heal" my daughter. I have taken her from Missouri to Dallas to Northern Missouri to Oklahoma to further in Oklahoma...to even further in Oklahoma...and to Kansas. We have tried clinics, counselors, specialists--even had her noggin checked at one point by a neurologist just to see if she had damaged it in the car wreck, which would have been a good reason to think she turned into a complete cluster. Nope. Her noggin was fine. She was just making bad choices and no real physical reason for it other than I was convinced she hated my guts and wanted me to suffer the absolute most treacherous and horrific death a child could bestow on a mother.

Although there have been some great counselor's and she has had some wonderful people touch her life---NOTHING has clicked. No matter how much we spent, no matter how far we went, no matter how much time we went to "family group"--she would come back and throw herself back with the same group of people and start doing the same crap. This time, however, was a level lower than anything she had ever sunk. This last episode was the beginning of the end. I'm still not sure how this will turn out. I'm mentally worn out.

The last ten days she has been in the clink...the slammer....jail. "My daughter is in jail." I say that to myself over and over and over thinking "Wow, and I'm happy about it. Isn't that twisted?"  Part of me didn't really want to let people know she is in jail, but we all know the criminals all read the court logs and they all know how to check the inmate list...something the rest of us do not regularly do, when looking for our friends...but they do. I'm also certain she is in the safest place she has been in a couple of months. Guess what? She made it through detox. No benzos, no suboxone, no cold towel on her head...no NOTHING. She has been SICK. Guess what? I'm happy about that too. Now, I'm really twisted, aren't I? I hope she pukes until she is green. I hope she feels every bit of pain that drug can give her. I hope she feels like she never wants to touch the crap again and I hope every piece of stomach acid and pain and sweats and nightmares, are something she never wants to feel again. She did it though. She did it. She lived through it and her body is healing and I actually like hearing her voice instead of the stammering, slurring person she can become.

I told her last night I started blogging again. She said "I know. I was reading it before I ended up in jail." I said, "I thought about posting a picture of your staph infection just to show people what can happen to someone." She said "Go ahead. I don't want to see anyone go through this." I may post it...but it needs its own blog. It's just too hard for me to look at still.

Sure it's super humiliating, working in the legal community, or just in real life to know my daughter is in jail--and no one wants to think their child should be locked up---but I do. She was out of control. She was doing things I never thought she would do. She deserved a "time out" in a big way. It's hard as parents to allow our kids to suffer the consequences of their actions but when I look back on so many things I did let her get away with, I regret it. I would strongly advise any parent who has a kid that ends up in trouble--let them deal with the consequences. Do not cover it up. Do not pay their fines. Do not bail them out of trouble. Let them learn a lesson.

I see all the time on the news where a person will make a public mistake or break the law and the "perfect people" of the world chime in on social media, "WELL WHERE WERE THEIR PARENTS?" Boy does that light me up. I want to respond, but never do--but would like to say to that wonderful prestigious parent of the year---"Perhaps their parents tried their best. Perhaps their parents raised them better. Perhaps, you, Mr. JackWagon should be aware that their parents are reading your asinine comments and feeling even worse about the situation because they are already constantly second guessing themselves.  Perhaps you should pray for this person's parents rather than judge them because no one hurts about this situation more than their parents." At what point is it no longer the parents fault? A person can go to war at 18, but if your 24 year old does something wrong, then your responsible in the public eye? What a crock. There is no greater fear than worrying about your child's death EXCEPT FOR worrying about your child causing someone else's death. I have always feared more that anything that she would hurt someone else, that she would drive impaired and wipe out an innocent family on the road, or that she would end up in some car chase with the police or some friend would overdose while with her--who knows what all could happen--but I feared it all. I still fear it all.

So guess what--experts on social media--MY KID IS IN JAIL. Where were her parents? Home, after a long day of work and after a law abiding day and after taking care of small kids and visiting with our other child who isn't a drug addict. How about that?? We didn't commit her crime. We didn't hang out with people who do drugs and we didn't get arrested. She did...and I am glad she is there...so judge me.

My blog has had 16,000 readers. My husband isn't sure if it's people's nosiness or fascination with our train wreck of a life or if its because people really are suffering in silence. I KNOW that it is is because my writing is so entertaining (since my boss has never even read the thing--yea, talking to you-TML)--but I also know it is because there are hundreds of people who are living the humiliation and pain I am living and can relate to it but can't talk about it. I want to be their voice. I want to let them know they aren't alone and their hell is mine too.  I've heard from so many people that have reached out about their own families and it breaks my heart. I wish I had the answers to help everyone, but I'm winging this too. I'm also on the "learn as I go" method. There is no right or wrong way of doing any of this when it comes to addiction...but one thing is for sure...you have to let THEM do it. You must make THEM want help. They have to want it, they have to suffer and they have to sometimes be the topic of conversation or suffer the humiliation. It's not a reflection on you as a parent or loved one if your kid makes mistakes...but you do have to let them own them to learn from them.

So- as my daughter reads the first letter I wrote to her in jail---I hope she takes this to heart. I ended the letter with "There is no obstacle too great or mistake too large that you cannot overcome. I would knock over mountains for you sis---but it's time you climb this one on your own. We will be waiting on the other side."

So my advice to you all would be to let them climb their own mountains. They may fall a few times...but you have to let them. Otherwise, your whole family is stuck at the bottom, which isn't fair and gets you no where. We really will be waiting for her on the other side. We want her to climb it. We are cheering for her to climb it. I just refuse to stand behind her and push her up it any more.

I'm not sure this blog even makes sense tonight. It does to me though, so I'm just hitting "publish."

He was Homecoming King, Captain of his Football Team, Someone's Son...and a Human Being

I'm feeling quite guilty today. This sounds so bizarre, but I'm feeling horrible for calling my daughter's boyfriend a "scum bucket."  After meeting his mom, whom I have bonded with so much in the last two days; and his sister, who is an absolute doll--I keep thinking about this guy who is sitting in a jail cell and feeling just as horrible as my daughter. I keep thinking, "Her actions were not his fault. He is just as sick as she is with this addiction. He is just as messed up as she is right now." It's so easy to want to blame others when our own children make terrible mistakes. I work in divorce law and I am always so perplexed when a client comes to us for a divorce because their spouse has been unfaithful and they are hell bent on destroying the person that had the affair with their mate--but the next week, they are willing to take their spouse back into their life, and still blame the "other woman" or "other man." Isn't the mate the guilty party? Weren't they the one who made the vow to be faithful? It's not the girlfriend or boyfriend's fault that your spouse cheated...it's your spouse's fault. "Blame the right person" is my common thought.  Aren't I doing the same thing by blaming someone else for my own child's actions? Heck yes, I am...and it's wrong.

The choice of friends is so important and there ARE people that will lead you in the wrong direction and there are people who WANT to get you hooked on drugs---but the addicts that find each other in rehabs, treatment programs, etc...are both struggling equally to fill that void in their lives that they are missing. They are like magnets to each other. Partially because of a defunct system that throws people who are in a horrible place in life together in a facility for 28 days and expects them to "heal" and be "normal" after a month. The only people they can relate to are the ones that know how they feel. It's a vicious cycle. In treatment programs, they encourage people not to get into a relationship until they have been clean at least one year--but how many actually follow that? Not many...and the relationship usually fails and the cost of that relationship is usually their sobriety.

As I think about this 31 year old man who has been dating my daughter, I allowed him into my home, I allowed him around my family and the guy is very personable. He kept telling me "you are just like my mom." Over the last few weeks, my respect for him was getting smaller and smaller and my trust in him was diminished. Now that I look back, I think he was scared to death that she may get clean and had the ability to get help from us to get clean--and then why would she need him any more? That is sad. Terribly sad. Maybe he wanted to be clean and it was her holding him back. Who really knows? Their addiction was the magnet that drew them to one another. Now meeting his family and hearing his story, they have so much more in common than I ever realized.

I think the public assumption of an addict is so far off base from reality. I know most people who have not been actually touched by addiction, think of the "tweaker" at Wal-Mart or the "Meth Head' they see on the news. Some of these people were raised in homes where their parents used drugs, taught them to use drugs, showed them how to make drugs and that was all they have ever known...but in reality, that isn't the majority. The majority are people who had normal lives and somewhere along the way, made a wrong choice. That wrong choice gripped their soul right out from their skin. In learning more about this fella, I looked at pictures of him and it broke my heart. He was a happy, jovial, outgoing and smart guy, who was motivated for success. He was Captain of his high school football team. He was Homecoming King. He was popular. He was loved. He was stable. He had a future that was bright. Now, as people probably see my child---I look at him and see a chiseled jaw line; a sad look in his eyes and a yearning to be the son and grandson his family misses. Two days ago I wanted to sling him up by his man parts. Today, I really want him to get help too in this battle.

It is so easy to get wrapped up in the blame of the people and friends our kids hang around with--but those same people that become "Public Enemy Number One" are also someones son, grandson, brother or uncle. That person is loved too and their life is just as valuable as my daughter's. My daughter is some parent's "scum bucket" I'm sure. I remember when she had her wreck in high school her Senior year and was dating a boy she really liked. His mom made him break up with her because she was a bad influence. It crushed her. At that point, I felt like every boy she chose to date or associate had the same problems that she had. Was it because she feared rejection? Was it she felt she didn't deserve anything more? Did she feel someones mom wouldn't approve of her? I am sure it was her own self worth and lack of self-confidence. She didn't feel worthy.

Of course we must always protect our children and I don't harbor any ill regard toward the mom who had her son break up with her---at that point, now I wish I would have realized that it would be a monumental moment in her self-confidence. I wish now I would have understood how truly devastating that was to her. I wish I would have made her realize she was worthy and not to lower her morals to raise her confidence.

So what made this homecoming king feel so low? What made him try that first opiate? What made him stick a needle in his arm? What drove him that low? In order to truly understand addiction I think those are questions we need to get answers. What is causing these young people to take that first hit that can cause your life to go from Captain of the Football Team to the rock bottom of addiction hell. The bottom line is, ONE TIME...ONE HIT...ONE TRY of drugs can draw you in and ruin your life. It's simply not worth it. It is important that we teach our children that it CAN happen after just one try. It can grow bigger than anything they can control. It's simply not worth the risk and somehow, we have to get back to the "Just Say No" message from the 80's. It's true. We need to teach our kids that the risk is too great. Somehow we have got to teach kids that their lives are irreplaceable. Somehow, my beautiful little wrestling chanter/softball player/witty girl and that homecoming king/captain of his football team need to be lessons to other kids. Look at your own school and look at your homecoming king. Can you even imagine???? Well, imagine it. All it takes is one time. We've got to stop them before they ever take that chance.

We have to find ways to get them help. Earlier help, more effective help, cheaper help and without substituting drugs for drugs. We have got to lift the public perception that this "would never happen to my kid." It can happen to your school's homecoming king. The addicts of today are the kids living next door to you. They are the athletes, musicians, the quiet kid next door. They can be any person at any time in any social class. They are everywhere.

Tonight, I am praying for the homecoming king. I'm praying he finds the spirit to be the person he used to be. I'm praying for the softball player. I'm praying for the kid who is reading this blog who is still keeping this secret from his family.

The Monster at the End of This Book...

When my daughter was little, she LOVED the book called "The Monster at the End of this Book" by Sesame Street. I bet I read that story to her every night, multiple times for months. 

Tonight, that book keeps popping in my head. I keep thinking about how innocent she was and that the only fears she had at one point in her life, was Cookie Monster jumping out at the end of a book. Tonight, she sits alone---in a jail cell---sick---and lonely---scared and facing the REAL "monster" at the end of her book.

She has staph infection all over her back and body. She has been isolated from everyone and everything for good reason---she has little care to live in this world and in her words says she "is in too deep and feels like she is in a hole she cannot get out of."

As a mom, that is a hard thing to hear, because you want your children to grow up and have the American Dream. The college education, the job of their dreams, their future spouse, babies, a picket fence. All I want at this point for my daughter is stability...life...health...for her to be a human again. 

The oddest encounter happened to me yesterday. She and the guy that I referred to as derogatory names in my previous blog, had a "come to Jesus" meeting with law enforcement. I won't lie or blow smoke up her ass in this situation---I probably caused it, or did cause it--because she was at the end of the road. I needed them to check their well-being when she refused to go to rehab...so that was what was done. Anyway, I won't go into logistics...but tonight she is safe and she is where she needs to be and I honestly hope she pukes until her guts feel like they cannot take another hit of anything again. I honestly hope she lies in a cold, empty cell and reflects to the only person listening--which is God.

As a mom it is hard to come to a point that you feel you have no other choice than to wish a million dollar bond on your child and a cold jail cell---but I tell you what...at least she is alive. I know many mom's tonight that would love to know their child is in a jail cell rather than gone from this earth. She was running out of time. I could feel it in the pit of my soul. I prayed and prayed for something to happen---and it did.

Guess what though? I met the family of the "scumbucket" or whatever other derogatory names I called him. Guess what else? I met a mother exactly like me. She has a son she deeply loves who she has fought tooth and nail to try to save from addiction. She was like looking into a mirror. We hugged. She and her daughter had the daunting task of picking up their belongings so we met in a parking lot to exchange items. My daughters entire life's contents fit in 1/2 of the trunk of my SUV. How tragic. Not one single item she got for Christmas remained. Not one pair of shoes did not have holes (although she got 3 pair for Christmas). His stuff was about as slim. We stood in the parking lot of this store and talked and we have talked a lot over the last 24 hours. Same story, same battle, same love of our children.  "How did this happen to us?" The similarities were so eerie in our pasts and in our present that it was almost humorous. We laughed to keep from crying...but both of us are sleeping better tonight, knowing our children are safe for one more day. I use the term "child" a lot in my blogs because she will always be my child. I don't care how old---she is mine and I adore and love her.

Tuesday she hated me. Today, she is coming off the crap so she is loving me again. Honestly I couldn't give two rips if she loves or hates me because I know I love her and am doing what is best for her.  How did the "Monster at the End of the Book" become drug addiction? How did Cookie Monster become Heroin? How did my beautiful daughter become a staph infested criminal? Damn. That is a lot to consume. It's painful but its my pain and it's real. 

To be candid---I don't know if she will live through this. I'm not prepared to bury her. I'm going to fight the monster at the end of her book...because she is my first love, my first true love and she is worth it. I am determined to make her see that. Watching your child suffer the consequence of their actions is never fun. It's always hard, whether it's because they slammed their finger in a door you told them to leave alone, or went out past curfew, or dated someone you knew was not good for them---it's hard to watch their heart break. It's hard to watch them suffer. The monster at the end of her book is scarier than anything I imagined as a 20 year old parent back then. 

Please, I beg you--talk to your children about drugs, about pills, about heroin. Teach them that the "monster" is real. Lock up your pain pills. Lock up your sleeping pills. Don't let the monster at the end of your child's book be stealing, sickness, addiction, disease...or God forbid---death. 

Let's kick the monster's ass. 

Fighting More than One Devil...and the Mind of an Addict

Today was a particularly hard day.  I had reconnected communication with my daughter over the last few days and thought we were making some progress. Maybe I am completely incorrect, but sometimes I feel that being the parent of an addicted female is harder in some ways because you not only have to battle the addiction--but the insecurities of your daughter and the many male counterparts who take advantage of those insecurities. Like any female-- a girl just wants to be loved. I'm sure its the same for males, but since I'm a female, I can't give that perspective. I just know I've seen countless times, the females that get into the grips of men who they wouldn't even want in their normal mind--but their ability to offer them their "drug" makes them desirable. I'm not de-valuing anyone's son, so chill your jets, if you took offense to that statement. I understand that men have insecurities too and reasons that draw them to addiction and I also know that women take advantage of that as well....but tonight, I'm writing what it's like to be the mom of a daughter who is an addict. A beautiful, smart, witty, charming, adorable, funny, awesome daughter. Beautiful beyond her comprehension. She sees an addict. Men see a beautiful girl with big eyes, full lips and a darling face. The addict side of her is manipulative, impulsive, stubborn and at times, unbearable to those who love her. Honestly, tonight is another night that I would like to smack the snot out of her and then hug her as tight as I could. 

Today was supposed to be the day. She was going back to treatment. She had reached out for help. She responded to an offer for help. She even had dinner with a friend and called her sponsor from her previous treatment center. She had help arranged, right around the corner. She just had to hold on until this morning. She had hopes again, it seemed. She was going to do it...and then, she went back "home" for the night with her boyfriend. This morning I woke up to read this pitiful "woe is me" sad and poorly written message to her on her Facebook wall from him. I simmered. I knew he was working her conscious. I knew he was manipulating her mind. I knew he was telling her "Don't leave me"...by playing on her sympathies. I knew today I was toast and our plan for treatment was going to be put on the back burner. The friend who took her to dinner had offered to drive her to treatment, to help remove me from the "hot seat" and because my daughter trusted her. We had a plan, but then it happened....or didn't happen. The phone call never came. The phone calls to her went unanswered. The texts to her were ignored. The delay tactics started. I could feel myself getting angrier and angrier and I threatened to call police and report him to his probation officer. After they got that message, she called me and said "Don't back me into a corner, it will just make me want to use." I felt pissed. I wasn't going to take that crap excuse again. I replied angrily, "Fine, if you want to shoot up your veins, then go ahead. Go ahead and die if that is your wish!" That was probably the wrong response, but I was so steadfast in my strength for the last few weeks and determined to not get my hopes up--and for a fleeting moment, last night, I got my hopes up. For a fleeting moment, I thought she was going to get help and try one more time.

It reminded me back to a day a couple of years ago, when my daughter was in treatment and doing well--and a best friend of hers was sick and deep in addiction. She too had a little slime ball boyfriend who had his clutches into her so deep. Her aunt and I tracked her down and we were determined to convince her to go to treatment. This little jackass drug dealing, slime bucket, was going to have no part of it. He knew if she was clean--she wasn't going to want to be with him. He knew that if she left with us that day, she wasn't coming back. I tried to convince my friend (her aunt) to pull her through the window when she came to the car to talk to us. My friend is more reserved than I am. Its probably best that I was on the driver's side. I would have whirled her skinny little butt through that window. As my friend spoke softly to her, I could see that little jackass sitting on the porch just staring at us. He lit up a cigarette and just stared at us and kept urging her to come back to the house. We kept saying "Come on, just get in with us. We will get you help." She started to cry. I felt like she so badly wanted to come with us...but she didn't. We left that day without her and maybe it was meant to be---because in due time, she sought help herself and today I am happy to report that beautiful girl has been clean for 8 months.

Today, I was in a similar situation with my own daughter...and that same girl was on my side this time. She was pleading with my daughter, she was ready to whoop the "slimeball" and she would have done anything to help get her to treatment. We were talking to the two other women who had gone to pick up my daughter to take her to treatment; and we were like four women on a mission. Mission Impossible, it turned out. I'm so grateful for their help today and know someday she will look back and realize how very loved she is by so many people. We did have to have my 6'3 son send the strongly worded text to the boyfriend that said  "My sister better be in that car on the way to treatment today" to try to "lightly persuade him" to comply.  "The boyfriend" never seems to listen to a mom, but they sure run like a big wimp at the sign of a "bigger brother" or the police. 

We didn't get what we wanted for her today. We are all very sad. It led me to ask her friend "how did you feel that day---what was going through YOUR mind that day when we confronted you?" How does it feel to be in my daughter's position to hear your loved ones pleading with you, but you don't respond. What are you hearing when you are in that position? Are you hearing or words at all?" She put it into words for me...

The mind of an addict--- 

"Being a recovering addict myself, I know exactly what the ones still suffering from this awful disease are feeling. You nearly feel numb to anyone and anything. But with me, there was always that voice in the back of my mind crying out for help. I come from a very good family that would have dropped anything at anytime to help me. But until I was willing I would not go. I would make excuses and blame everyone else for the reasons why I wasn't going to go to treatment, knowing it was because I wasn't done. I was so very miserable with that life but I was absolutely terrified to let it go. I have never seen someone close to me suffer from this. But currently one of my close friends who I have been friends with for a very long time is very sick and it hits me so close to home. I know exactly how she is feeling and just how hard it is. I also know she is anything but happy. I know when she tells her mom it's her fault, it is an excuse. It is anything but her fault. I know when she says "I'll go to treatment tomorrow" it's a way to get everyone off her back. I know when she lies for her boyfriend, it's because she doesn't want everyone to hate him. I know when I was in as deep as she is, I would say anything to get people to leave me alone. I had my family and family friends try to come "save me" from the mess I was in but I would just get angry and want them to leave me alone. If I can make it through it, I believe that anyone can. I was an IV user willing to do anything for that next fix. I had no job, no money, I was doing things I am not proud of for money. I did whatever it took. It consumed my entire life. If there is anything I could say it would be, listen to the ones who truly love you. They are not out to get you, they know best. When they say, "momma knows best", believe it. She knows better than anyone. Also on the other side I know how hard it is to get out of an addiction when you're in so deep, but I finally came to realize that I wasn't willing to die. I won't lie and say it's been easy, it's been the hardest thing I've done thus far and it's a battle each and every day, but I will say it is worth it. For anyone suffering and scared to get help, it is so worth it in the end. I promise you. Reach out before it is too late. I have the life I deserve today. I have my family back, I have true friends that love me, I have a job, I have my own place to live. It gets better everyday. DO NOT GIVE UP."

To hear her write those words today give me hope. I pray that someone reading this tonight hears her words and ignores the boyfriend/girlfriend/non-friend and enablers and listens to their heart and to those who TRULY love them. Those who are willing to fight for your life are the ones who truly love you. Those who are willing to shoot a needle in your arm--or any other part of your body---are the devil. They are not your friends and YOU DO NOT NEED THEM.

To my daughter--I don't care how mad you get at me....I will fight for your life for as long as it takes and I will stomp the balls of anyone who stands in my way. I gave you life and I'm not willing to let you throw it away. I know your potential. I know your heart. I know the real you and the "Devil" doesn't.