There seems to be a common theme among many of the people who have commented on my blog. It is a truth that I am just beginning to understand - I can not help my son, until he is ready to be helped. That does not mean that I am going to give in and allow him to do as he pleases. In fact, it means the opposite. I am tired of being an enabler. I am tired of allowing him to manipulate me. I am tired of trying to kill his addiction with kindness. It does not work, and I have four years of misery to prove it. We have some very hard decision to make in the coming weeks. He is on the waiting list to be assessed for the CHOICES drug treatment program. We should be getting the call within the next couple of weeks. I will not be able to force him to enter the program, but I can enforce some serious consequences if he refuses to go. Consequences that scare me, but we can not continue to allow him to rule our home the way he has been.
I have realized that as my son was replacing everything in his life with drugs, I was losing myself too, just for different reasons. My life has become a vicious cycle of taking care of an addict, and I was no longer taking care of myself. Like my son, I was slowly losing interest in all of the things I had once enjoyed. I have been in a depression, of this I am sure. In the last four years, I have gained ten pounds a year. Yep, do the math. That is a lot of extra weight to carry around. I view this weight both literally and figuratively. It is also forty pounds of stress, worry, guilt, shame, and fear.
I kept telling myself, that as soon as my son was able to get his life on track, I would get mine back too. Four years later, and despite our best efforts, his life is still spinning out of control. I can't force him to battle his demons, but I can battle mine. It is time to start healing my own mind, body, and spirit. It is time.