When my son was sentenced to a 6 month military style boot camp my heart sank. I was devastated and couldn't imagine how I was going to make it through his six months. I conjured up thoughts of people being abused, yelled at, belittled, even beaten. I went so far as to do a search on the Internet of the specific camp he was being sent to. There was an article from a mother stating that it is unbelievable that these forms of punishment exist in our society. I hurt for him. I suffered for him. I could not image what could be much worse than that. I imagined myself there and wondered how I would make it through.

During his boot camp time I heard from him twice. Once he warned me not to address any letter to him other than using the salutation of "Dear Blake" because if I did anything else they would make him do push ups. The second time he wrote he said they kept him busy every moment of the day and he rarely had free time.

When he came home he looked better than he had looked for years. His eyes were bright, his skin flawless and his body in magnificent shape. And you know what, he was on fire with the physical gains he had made. He told me at length about the obstacle courses, the runs and the hikes. He had such pride in his accomplishments.

So from all that I learned that just because I might hate one of his left turns in life doesn't mean that he would hate it. And all my worrying and fretting did nothing for him. It only made me miserable. So today I will remember that. When I pick up his consequences and worry about them, I will stop and remind myself that I have my own life. I will put him down and move on.

Fear

The other day I was talking to my sister and she mentioned that she was a very anxious person and she had a lot of fears. I quickly responded, "Really, I don't really have many fears." And when I said that I meant it.

That evening my son was late coming home. He had a curfew of 12:00 and it was well past that. I was angry and thought about what consequence I could give that would be meaningful. And every minute he was late I got angrier. And then I realized that behind that anger was fear. I was scared for him. And after that night I started realizing that behind my anger is almost always fear.

Acknowledging and accepting the fear, somehow dissipates it a bit.

So when I'm angry or scared I let myself feel that for a bit. But then I try to think that all I can do is what I can do. At the end of the day I can not stop my son's heroin addiction, I can't prevent him from being arrested, or from going to prison. But I can change my life for the better. I have great power over myself and what I will do today. Today I will work on putting down the fear and anger.

"That the birds of worry and care fly above your head, this you cannot change. But that they build nests in your hair, this you can prevent."
Chinese proverb

Make it Easy

I've lived in my house for almost 20 years and I would guess the house itself is maybe 40 years old. And the other day the front handle to the door just fell off. I went to go outside and pulled the door handle like I have hundreds of times before but this time the handle just came off in my hand.

I looked an looked for what I wanted to replace it with. Finally I decided on this cool keyless mechanical lock that you just punch a code in. I bought the lock and waited until a day off to install it.

One afternoon I unpacked all the instructions, screws, long dingies, short doodles and sat by the door and started working. I read the instructions, stared at the directions, tried to put it together without the instructions. I thought about forcing the lock and just make it go on but I knew, from experience that forcing the issue doesn't make it work. So I gave up. I realized I needed help.

And several days later my girlfriend who is a wonder, slowly, methodically, and with ease installed the lock as I handed her tools and pieces the way a nurse hands instruments to the surgeon.

And I applied this to my son. When he tells me he is ready for a new start I let my heart jump for joy. I start planning how I can help him, think about what he needs to do, give gentle reminders, offer rides, insist on taking him to apply for jobs. Everything is laying before him and I am trying to push, maneuver, manipulate him into doing what will make me happy.

So the lesson for me is that something is really hard it means I need to back off. If I try to force anything it will not work with ease. I need to work on making everything in my life easy.

Broken

My heart is broken...
how many times can it break?

I think of you climbing in my lap
and snuggling while I smelled your tiny boy smell...

And I can't believe you are in prison...
addicted to heroin...

Can I tickle your back,
to make it better?
Can I stroke your hair,
to soothe you?
Can I lay spooned with you,
to comfort you?

I remember your huge smile,
your contagious laughter,
your enormous spirit.

Is this a nightmare?
Please wake me...
do not torture me any longer.

I love you.

Sitting in the moment.

I realize that expectations get me in trouble. When my son was released from boot camp, I had the expectation that the experience would be life changing. When I saw him and he looked so good and seemed so hopeful and talked of future plans of going to school, working, being happy with simple things it seemed as if the experience had changed him. And then I started planning. How can I best help him get a job? How can I help him with transportation? What can I say to encourage him? My expectation became that he would develop a life that would make me happy when I thought or saw him.

But his recovery is not my recovery. What he does is his business. And when he chooses to use again it is his addiction not mine. I have felt sick and lost and hopeless since he has used and been re-arrested. And I'm not sure when I will be able to get out of this funk and move on. But I know that on cloudy days, when it is dark and gloomy, there is still a sun. Although I can't predict how long it will take for the clouds to part, I do know that they will and I will find peace and serenity again. And the sun will shine!

When the ceiling falls...

My son is out of a 6 month prison boot camp. If I had to describe myself I'd say I'm a gentle, loving, peaceful soul so the thought of punishment militry style on someone I love is hard for me to take. I love my son and I can hardly stand the thought of someone yelling and pushing someone I love to their very limits. I try not to think about what goes on at a prison boot camp. But no one asked me about what I thought and this is where his actions took him. He attended a 6 month military style boot camp in the hot southwest desert. During the time he was gone I received several letters from him telling me about his stay. 18 mile hikes with a 60 pound pack in the desert heat... along with classes on life skills, daily work, community service, NA meetings, obstacle courses, runs... The letters helped. At least I knew he was okay and he was away from his drug friends. It sounded brutal but I hoped that this would change him and remove the obsession that heroin has on him.

He's made it through...and we make plans to meet for breakfast. When I see him his blue eyes are clear and sparkling, his pupils normal, his skin clear, his smile bright and when I hug him he is so muscular. He is calm, relaxed, happy. We talk easily and he tells me all about the boot camp. He explains that although at first he wondered if it would kill him; after a couple of weeks of the routine he saw the improvement in his body and began to feel pride in his health. He tells me all about the obstacle courses and is obviously proud of his new found fitness. He tells me of the work detail and what work he enjoyed most. His two favorites were cleaning helicopters and building a winter wonderland for a school for the mentally retarded. He talks about his plans to stay fit and to continue running 7 miles 3 times a week. We talk at length about his future and he is eager to enroll in school and start working. He announces that he and his old girlfriend are back together now that he is clean and getting his life back on track.

And I start planning...I buy him a bus pass. I offer to buy him a bike. I take him to a temp agency to sign up for work. I wondered if I'd ever get him back and here he is... And he asks me for nothing. There is no mention of will I give him a few dollars, will I get him a cell phone, can he borrow my car. He seems so grateful and unassuming. He tells me how much my support means to him. I am trying to pace myself. I don't want to overwhelm him with my excitement. I want to support him but not smother him. He's been out a week and the future looks hopeful. He gets a day job washing windows. I don't hear from him for a day and I force myself not to call. He needs room.

And then I get the call...he's been arrested for a probation violation. One of his old drug friends came over and shortly after his probation officer made a surprise visit. I have no way to talk to him but I find out what his charges are and there is no bail.

I feel sick. I am devastated. I wonder how many times a heart can break. I am angry. I feel betrayed. But most of all I feel compassion for my son. I know without a shadow of a doubt that he was hopeful too. I know he was excited too. I know he thought the future was bright and he had a new beginning. And I feel such compassion for how he must feel after having failed yet again.

So what do I do with these feelings? I want to go to sleep. I don't want to wake up if this is the reality I wake up to. I feel like doing nothing. I want to stare into space. But I know that life goes on and I do whatever I can. I make it to a meeting. I read about recovery. I call a friend. I cook dinner. I go to work. I do the next right indicated thing. All I can do for now is go through the motions. But I know if I continue doing all these things I will be better. And I pray my son will be too.