Ripping my Heart Out

The headline is: the tests are in and The Captain was recommended for a residential treatment for his addiction. It is not what he was hoping for, which is heart breaking, but probably what is needed. 

I grew up in a small community in which alcoholism was endemic. Thus, I've been fortunate to grow up in a context in which people with addictions are understood and cared for but not judged. I am grateful to have been spared the susceptibility to that particular struggle and so I have spent the summer educating myself about the nature of addiction. Let me say, though, in brutal honesty, sex addition is not something people want to talk about. A lot of people don't believe it's a real thing and social mores don't allow open and honest conversation around anything so scary. 

So here I am, Mom to a kid a year from being a legal adult, and hoping with all my heart that there truly is a cure for his addiction. Because I am here to tell you, it's a real thing. My greatest fear is that he will not get better and wind up in big prison. What I am less sure about is if this kid will be able to let go and get better because the one thing I've learned in my summer of research is this: the addicted person has to want to let go of the addiction. We need something akin to a miracle here. 

Years ago when had just adopted our first baby, I had read one million parenting books. Okay, I'm exaggerating. Adoption takes a while, so I read 8 or 9 parenting books. My sister-in-law, best bud, and work mate, Sharon, would occasionally try to give me advice. So she would say something and I'd reply "well, yes, but research says . . . (blah blah blah)."  

Then she would laugh and say, "Oh yes, I forgot, you're a BOOK parent. You have the manual. You'll be okay."  Which after you've been a parent six months you realize is a joke because obviously, there is no manual! I did eventually calm down and start taking people's advice, just so you know. It was truly heartbreaking that Sharon, who was my soulmate, died when my oldest two were only 8 and 6 and I never really got to capitalize on all her parenting experience. However, her hand is on the rudder at times like today. 

I started writing this at 4:30 AM after a very fitful night. Our boy called last night, pretty frantic. On Saturday, when I'd seen him, he'd been sad, but fairly calm. Now the panic is setting in. I've seen this in friends who are headed to rehab. There is real fear in having to let go of something that literally takes up your whole life. So my night was hard because even when it's best, we don't want our kids to suffer. We know they have to do that suffering themselves but we would love to take it for them if we could. 

Send The Captain your good thoughts, your prayers, your love, and your warrior arrows -- he needs it all. It's going to take every outpouring of good will toward him to shore him up. Later he will probably be able to get snail mail and if that happens, I'll let you know how I can give you the details. For now, we'll have to trust the heart space to deliver; it's trustworthy.

I'm a little worried that the details are not ironed out yet. The juvenile justice system lacks in the way of communication but we will find out more today. We have a hearing and the judge will rule if he will for certain go to residential treatment. If so, the next few days are going to be very hard on him. Watching my child go through this is ripping my heart out. 

I'll do it though, because I know I can. "I've got 'the manual', I'll be okay!"  We all will.