Judge NOT!

I haven’t had much to say lately.  My son is at a 30 day rehab in another city and he has completed about 10 days so far.  The weeks leading up to him entering detox and then finding a rehab facility have been trying to say the least. 

 

For two years I have hoped and cried that my son would find his way back to recovery; and now that he is there and working toward that goal, I just don’t know what to say.  It’s a weird silence inside me; a calm and reserved feeling deep inside—like I don’t want to be too happy but I am so relieved he is there!  I know that his recovery will take a lifetime, and so to get excited today seems pointless to me.

 

The other day as I flipped through Facebook reading the many post of my so called “Friends”, there was a part of me that wanted to yell a ‘Status’…   

 

·         Thanks everyone for your thoughts and prayers about my son!  He is doing well and we could not be more proud that he has made the decision to take back control of his life and fight this disease of addiction.

·         Oh wait …never mind---- none of you have even asked about him!

But I didn’t.  Facebook is full of silly, mindless, sad, funny things all of the time.  The thought that Facebook Friends are REALLY my friends is ridiculous!  It is just High School, with a way to see photos of loved ones and other family members who live far away for me.

 

This fight my son is fighting has been going on a long time now, and it will continue on for the rest of his life.  I really don’t think they ( my so called friends) want to hear about it, because they don’t understand it and don’t know what to say.  They are “ignorant” (if you will) about addiction, simply because they don’t have a loved one who suffers from this disease and have not taken the time to learn.  I was ignorant about this disease for a very long time, and I don’t pretend to know everything about it now; but I have learned a lot purposefully in the past two years.

 

I use to have a bumper sticker back in the 90’s on my car that said “Mean People Suck”, and for the most part it’s true, but- in my humble opinion -mostly mean people are just ignorant people. 

I pierced my belly button, nose, and tongue back in the 90’s too -- all for different reasons but with one main goal; to force people to look past a visible nonconforming look and not judge me for it.  I had very mixed reactions from a wide range of different people- and I was judged harshly by many, even my loved ones.

 

I have always lived in the southern United States, and we “Southerners” have a reputation for conformity and our way is the best way you know!  The ‘old school thinkin and judging folks’?... well that is just what we do down here! 

 

Now I am not beating up on the Southern Gentlemen and Ladies; everybody knows we all judge each other, and I consider myself a Southern Lady!  But, we ALL do this when we see someone who is not like us or challenge us; those who look different, sound different, smell different, and act different!   But this comes from a place of pure ignorance and fear.

 

So judge NOT least ye be judged!  As the verse goes- Right?

 

In the spirit of…take what you need and leave the rest…

I tweaked the serenity prayer the other day to try and help me out with MY judging all those “friends” of mine on Facebook who have not ONCE asked about how my son was doing.

 

God grant me the serenity to NOT JUDGE anyone.

To accept that IGNORANCE has and always will EXISIT.

And, the wisdom to be QUITE about that.

 

 

I figure it is not my place to go around telling other people what I feel is right and wrong anymore; after all I am just one person trying to figure it out day by day.  Most days I fail at being the best human being I can be, but the beauty is with every sunset and every sunrise, I get a do over and I try again!  Just like an addict.

 

Some days are better than others.  And then some days are even pretty great to where I don’t think I could feel or be any happier than I am at that very moment.  And those days are the days that I try and hold on to.  Those are the days that erase the bad days from the memory banks in my mind.  I don’t want to judge anyone!  And with God’s help, I will try, every day, very hard not to do judge!

Fantasy Football

 

 

I have discovered that Fantasy Football is very popular these days.  My 30 year old daughter and her girlfriends have a league and they look forward to this time every year.  I don’t play Fantasy Football but I am a huge football fan.  I grew up watching football on Sunday’s with my Dad.  Back in 60’s & 70’s stores were closed on Sundays where we lived.   My Dad worked in retail so he had long hours during the week, he did yard work or played golf on Saturday, and we had family time on Sundays.  During football season family time was watching football games together.  My Dad was a player back in his day, and he taught me all about the game and rules.  For a girl to know as much about football as I did impressed the boys; and to this very day I can call a penalty before the announcers can sometimes.  Fantasy Football is just another way to get fans involved in the game, but I prefer to just watch.

It has been 4 days since my son decided to go to detox in hopes of entry to an inpatient rehab facility.  We heard nothing for 2 days and then finally he called.  The sound in his voice was one of hope and hurting, we could tell that he was different somehow in his words.  He has such a long and difficult road ahead, but right now this is his path and all of us that love him are very relieved.

 

He has been talking with several rehab facilities and has an interview setup for this coming Thursday, but he needs to get transportation arranged.  I have always said that I would provide him transportation to rehab whenever he needed it, and so we will travel on Thursday together for his interview.  He will no doubt be nervous and so will I.  There is a chance that he will not be accepted and then he will have to figure something else out very quickly, but our hopes are high.

 

This will be the 4^th inpatient rehab for my son in 13 years and my hope for him never fades.  Over the years my feelings, attitude, knowledge, and understanding about my son’s addiction have changed and grown.  I began this journey –my life with addiction—in denial and disbelief and then quickly became angry and withdrawn.   My first experience with my son going through rehab provided great relief and happiness.   I was able to put my son’s addiction behind me, and carry on pretending nothing ever even happened.  I can remember thinking to myself what a “bad dream” that had been, but now all was well.

 

The next group of events that my son’s addiction brought on would be legal issues.   A felony conviction, probation, work release, fines, probation violations, which lead to another felony conviction, more lawyers and Judges, Court Clerks and Deputy’s, and finally the potential transfer to the State Prison system.  But then a Drug Court option was offered to my son, and he grabbed hold to that as if he had no other choice.  Thanks to that Judge and that program my son stay in the county lockup for 9 months until a bed became available for him in rehab.  That period of time while he was jailed and waiting proved very difficult for all of us including my son.  The visits, the holidays and celebrations- his daughter was born while he was locked up- they all were less than because he could not be a part of those with us.  Once he was transferred to the rehab we all felt a huge relief that finally he could begin to fix what was wrong with him.

 

On our very first family visit to that facility, which was a 6 month mandatory inpatient facility, I will never forget.   The director explained to all of us there for our family visit, that the statistics were that 9 out of 10 addicts will relapse, that only 10% of those seeking abstinence would be able to achieve that goal the first time around.  I can remember like it was just moments ago when I heard those words, and how the tears began to stream down my face.  Then another mother there spoke of this being her son’s 9^th attempt in rehab.   I sat there in shock and disbelief.  I can remember looking into her eyes as she spoke with no emotion and so very matter of fact; all the while I could not contain my emotions as my tears continued.  She spoke of loving her son and never giving up hope that he would be able to find his way to recovery and hold on.  I can still remember thinking…could this be true?  Could this be true for my son?  No!  My son is different; he’s smart, he won’t make this mistake again. He has been through so much, he has lost so much.  And here we are seven years later and this is his 4^th time in rehab. 

 

I am writing about this today because I think it is important to offer this insight up to any and all who are searching to understand and come to terms with this horrible affliction we call addiction. I am also reminding myself.  Because it does not matter how smart they are, or how kind or sweet, or obviously how many times they have been through detox or rehab.  The only thing that matters is now, today, this time.

 

Love, forgiveness, and understanding about how truly difficult the process of recovery is for our loved ones is what gives me compassion and empathy.  If you believe that being an addict is what your loved one wants to be, you are very wrong and have been misguided.  Yes, while the disease is in control of your loved ones mind, they make terrible choices to used drugs, steal and lie; so many horrible choices.  But once they find and hold on to what can keep them fighting against that every present disease, they then begin to make progress and they start making the right choices to stay drug free and in control. 

 

This process will be a forever process for them, with time the cravings will lessen and even go into hiding, but they will never leave them.  For the rest of my son’s life he will have to fight to hold on to his sobriety one day at a time, but for right now he is holding on one minute at a time.

 

I understand and realize that this time may not be “THE” time that he gets what he needs to hold fast to his sobriety, but then again it may be.  I am rooting for him from the couch understanding that I can’t be his coach, but I am his biggest fan.  He is my number one fantasy pick and whatever happens I won’t trade him or give up on him.  I’m gonna Hold On to him!

09/11/2014

13 years

 

I can remember it so clearly and even today when I see those images of planes being hijacked and used as weapons of mass destruction I feel so very sad and lost.  Our leaders try to reassure us sounding calm and resolved; but there are no words that can console us.   This year I watched a program on September 10, about the events that led up to 9/11/01 on the NGC.  The program is very interesting, filled with new insights and new stories of some of those lost on that terrible day.

 

Around 3000 people died from the events of 9-11 and over 3000 children lost a parent that day.  The total number of those who were directly affected as family members, friends, neighbors, mentors or co-worker is far greater still.  The tragedy on 9-11 touched our entire nation, and our nation mourned with those loved ones, and we remember their loss every anniversary.  This was not some natural disaster; this was a deliberate act of hate that changed our nation forever.   

 

This is a photo that I took at the 9-11 Pentagon Memorial in DC.

 

My feelings of loss for 9-11 are similar to my feelings of loss toward my addict son.  A numb feeling that comes from a lack of understanding even though I know what happened.  I can either harbor hate for what has happened or I can move past it, but either way I can never forget the tragedy.  As we try to adjust and we strive to be vigilant to protect ourselves and the innocent, we must move on.   

 

As I write this blog on the 13^th Anniversary of 9-11 my son sits in a triage room at a detox center in a mental health facility in hopes of being admitted.  I want to feel happy about the wonderful news of today, but I am afraid.  I am afraid to be happy for him or myself.  I am afraid to say “Hallelujah--- he has found his way to fight this horrible disease”.   But deep down inside I am very relieved, maybe not happy, but my hope has grown like the Grinch’s heart did on Christmas Day.