Saturday, September 26, 2009

It's funny how we feel so much, but cannot say a word."

Another long silence, I know. This time, my silence will not be followed by good news. Justin has slipped. My fear was that once he started school and was among his old 'friends' again, that he would start using. My fears were not unfounded, as within a week of school starting, all of the signs were there again. I ignored them for awhile, hoping they would go away, hoping I was wrong, but they soon became too clear to deny, and the vicious cycle began again. I think it would have been better if he did not stop using for that short time, giving me a false sense of hope that our painful road had ended. To be given that much hope, to have a glimpse of my son again, only to have it taken away. Well, it would have been easier if things had just stayed the same. I really can't understand what is going on his head. It is so clear that his life is better when he is not on drugs, and yet...

Life has been busy, overwhelming really. I started a new job, and it's stressful and demanding. My marriage, once strong, is starting to show cracks under the pressure of our son's problems, and all of the other problems that seem to go along with living. My life seems to be falling apart no matter how desperately I try to hold everything together. I have so many feelings going on inside me stemming from the circumstances of my life: anger, sadness, betrayal, bitterness. The bitterness is the worst, turning me into someone I don't like. In the past, writing about my feelings helped. Now, my emotions are too confusing, too difficult to discuss with anyone, even in this space. I'm afraid to let the ugliness out. If people knew what really went on in my head sometimes...well we shouldn't go there.

The title of this post is from Sarah's McLachalan's "I will remember you."

"It's funny how we feel so much, but cannot say a word,
we are screaming inside, but can't be heard."

And that's where I am today. Silent screams.


  1. We've all felt our worlds caving in around from the effects of our loved ones addictions.
    I remember thinking a lot of what you share here when my first born son was fifteen and out of control.In and out of emergency and the drunk tank.And when I looked our van he crashed into a powerpole,my heart broken into a million pieces.I could barely speak a word-no words can conveys a Mother's deep sandness and fear for her child.BUT.I eventually sought help for ME>I continue to practice my own recovery in life from codependency and after many years,my son is back on his feet doing better in his early 20's.
    I share this long comment to you,a total stranger,because as a Mother,I understand what you are not able to convey in words today.
    Please know,you are not alone.


  2. I also understand the thoughts you can't convey as I have similar if not the same thoughts due to my son's addiction. My husband and I have struggled to keep our marriage strong (it is strong). My son has been using various drugs since age 15, he is now age 23, almost 24. My job is also very stressful and lately I can't seem to think straight and physically I am sick a lot. I am starting to really try and focus on helping myself in my own recovery from being co-dependent, it is the only thing I can truly help or fix. Please know you are not alone and we are all here for each other.

  3. Silent screams: I well remember when I hurt so bad I could not even cry out. How dreadful! I was like a dog run over by a car, nothing left but a few whimpers...and the thoughts. Oh GOD!

    Enough said--you are not alone--ever. Call your Alanon sponsor. You need to stay close with those peeps now--for YOUR sanity!

  4. Oh Hannah, I am so sorry to hear your news.

    Dad and Mom posted a link to a new blogger who posted some letters from an addict. It's harsh reality, but maybe it will give you an insight to addiction.

    Posted here: blinded by love for j

  5. Dear Hannah,

    I understand the anger. I can feel the struggle. There was a time when, actually I didn't know at the time, my worst enemy was me. The addiction was the outside face of my anger but real stress and anger was coming from within me. I could not control my addict, so my life was out of control. For me that was maddening and I showed by being angry at him, at my wife and at my other children.

    I cannot really point to the time exactly when or what caused it to change but I know it did. But the change had to happen with me, I could not change them. When I began to truly internalize that, my life came together again. The realization that my addict didn't really care about our life and welfare, and there was NOTHING I could do about it began to start my healing. I had to begin seeing life as it was instead of what I wished it to be. That was not an easy reconciliation and the struggles inside were gut wrenching.

    When I finally got "IT" I was able to ease my struggle. Then as a reminder to myself and so it wouldn't be easy to slip back to the same struggle I wrote down what I truly came to believe. Go to my blog and scroll down to "Popular Posts" read my post on the "Danger, Truths Ahead". I am trying not to be vain but I wrote those down and I often go back and read them over and over to remind me of what my life with an addict really is versus what I wish it to be. I have found a measure of peace by understanding myself instead of struggling to understand my addict.

    Hope is a cruel mistress, I cleaned it up because I usually refer it as a cruel b#$%$. Hope is something, I CANNOT live without. I hope my addict changes, I hope my addict gets it, I hope my addict is OK. Where their is life, there is hope. I cannot give my life over to a situation in which I cannot control. Some people pray, some people meditate, some even choose just to ignore. I choose just to deliberate on my next steps and what is my role when my addict decides it is time to change and what my role is to support his change in life. Don't get me wrong, I still worry about his using, I still get angry at times at what he is doing to his mother (she is not at the same place as me), I get angry at the disappointments, and I get angry at the opportunity he has squandered. But I come to grips with the limits of my control and usually go read my own posting on the truths that are reality for me. NEVER, EVER GIVE UP THE HOPE.



  6. I'm so sorry. My son just relapsed, so I know how you feel. The thoughts just keep spinning. Hang in there and know that all of us here understand your pain. Praying for all of us...

  7. It hurts a lot and I am so sorry you are going through the pain - what mom & dad said above is true, and the post he refers to is excellent.

    And as ChaiLatte and the others show, you are not alone, and we hear you.


  8. Hold onto your marriage as it's what's going to pull you through all of this.

  9. I have been there many times with my silent screams. Get to a "meeting" and let it all out!

  10. I'm really sorry about Justin. Maybe one of these days he will decide that life is better lived for real than with drugs. In the meantime, do what you can to keep the focus on yourself and your well being. I have found that when I start to occupy my thoughts with what the alcoholic in my life is doing, I will slide back into my old thought patterns and sadness. I can't save another from themselves.

  11. I am so sorry to hear that Justin slipped. I'm sure you've heard it all, including the thought that a slip is another step in recovery.... it may be that this slip will help him gain the understanding he needs to seek sobriety. At any rate, I hear you.

    As "Dad" said above, "where there is life, there is hope."

    I am hoping (and praying) with, and for, you and Justin. I am also hoping you are able to take a break, however short, and be good to you today. (((Hug!)))

  12. just stopped by via, "on a clear day" saw you in his blog roll and something sparked my interest.
    my name is Suzie, and i am an addict. what you shared here, reminds me of my mom.

    this is a very powerful post and i know you are hurting, i am sorry for your hurt, s an addict i feel i owe all parents of addicts some sort of amends.

    anyway i hope you are holding up well, i hope your addict one day comes to appreciate you and i hope you the very best blessings in life.

  13. Just stopping by to say hello, send a cyber {{{hug}}} and tell you that I hope things are better and I'm still praying.

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