My sister gave birth to a baby boy last week. Holding the perfect little bundle, with his resemblance to my own son, was definitely a bittersweet experience. Memories rushed back to me, taking me back to such a happy time in our lives. Remembering what it was like when he was so innocent, and when I held such hope for his future. Seventeen years ago, holding my own newborn son in my arms, I would never had expected to be experiencing what I am today. I know that I can't torment myself with memories of the past, but instead, must accept our circumstances and continue to try to get my son back. I need to believe that the future will be better.
I am disappointed in myself; Last week, I was going to attend an al-anon meeting, and I did not go. Following Justin's incident with the cops, I had noticed some improvements in his behaviour. I was hopeful that perhaps we were at a turning point, and that he was beginning to see the problems his drug use were causing in his life. There has been a part of me that has been hoping that Justin's drug use is not as bad as I think it is, that maybe it really is just some teen experiementation that he will grow out of, and that he is not really an addict, just a teen gone wild. I was in one of my hopeful moods on the night of the meeting, and foolishly decided that I would feel out of place among the people who are involved with real addicts. And then, the truth hits me hard, like it did a few days after I thought he was improving. He wasn't improving, he was just getting better at hiding his use.
Justin attended his assessment with a counselor yesterday. I'm so relieved that he agreed to go. We have another meeting on Tuesday where we will all be present to discuss where we need to go from here.
I just keep taking it one day at a time, trying not to focus on the past, and instead continuing my search for our better tomorrow.