A Story of Addiction & Loss

Tag: addict comes home (Page 2 of 2)

Smart Moms Do Stupid Things

IMG_0717

Matt,  I was a whole lot of stupid and a whole lot of smart all rolled up into one out of control mess.  So now I had everything I needed in my hot little hands.  The names and address of the poison pushers and all I can do is sob.  The image of your face, the hate in your eyes is branded in my brain.  You love your demons more than the mom who has loved you in all your ugliness.  The mom who will do anything to save you.  Who will fight you in a public parking lot, who will risk life and limb for her son.  Oh God, what got into me.  I am a desperate, crazed person.  Your addiction has changed me from a rational adult to this desperate nut case.  I look at myself in the mirror.  I take off the hat and let my hair fall, I stare at my reflection and I don’t recognize the person staring back at me.  Your addiction has taken it’s toll.  Baggy eyes from tears and lack of sleep.  Cheek bones sticking out, pain etched into my once happy face.  Eyes that no longer shine, a mouth that has forgotten how to smile.  The face of an addicts loving mother, full of pain and grief for something she can’t fix.  My heart is broken by the people we have become.  Our hugs have become punches, our laughter changed to shouting, pointing ugly fingers and saying ugly things.  I hate what we have allowed your demons to do.

Barking dogs bring me back to reality.  I see the scripts on my printer.  I grab them as I see you coming up the stairs.  Matt, I had to do it.  Matt, I love you and can’t sit back and allow you to destroy yourself.  Matt, let me help you.  Matt, I know you have back pain, but you are hooked.  Nobody needs this dose and volume of drugs.  They don’t care about your life.  You are nothing more than an income for them.  They are not doctors they are killers.  I realize I am screaming.  I hear my voice as I am becoming out of control.  I’m pleading for your life and you are staring at me with hate in your eyes.  I try to regain control, I need to get through to you, to break through the demon built walls and get into your drug damaged brain.  I have to reach you.  You continue to stare at me with that f**k you gaze.  Give me my scripts.  Matt, please I will give you a little more than I have been let me keep managing them.  I will be better.  Give me my scripts.  You come closer, the dogs stand between us.  They sense what I feel.  I am afraid.  My brain is screaming.  My son, I am afraid.  Your eyes are dead, shark eyes.  Looking right through me.  I feel like my soul has been stepped on.  I am sobbing as I give you those pieces of paper that are killing us.  You turn.  I am left in darkness.  The dogs comforting me.  I sob into their fur and pray.

I allow myself time.  I allow myself tears.  I allow myself anger.  Ok, now I’m pissed.  I grab the copies of your scripts.  Ok you f***ing doctor imposters.  You’ve pissed off the wrong mother.  I’m coming after you.  Ha, I’m a nurse.  I will do it the right way…I grab my laptop.  Delaware Board of Medicine.  I hit the file a complaint tab and feel such power and relief completing the form that will start the process of an investigation into the practice of these pill pushing pieces of s**t.  If I can’t go in there and beat the crap out of them for making you an addict then I’ll do the next best thing.  I will report their overprescribing to the doctors that oversee physicians in this state.  I hold back nothing.  I tell them how it’s a cash practice.  I send copies of the massive volume of pills you are given each month.  I report that there have been no scripts for physical therapy or any other means of pain control than the opiates you now live for.  I point out that Percocet and Methadone should not be prescribed together.  I report how they included a muscle relaxer into your mix of deadly drugs.  I am on a roll.  I feel my spirit lift.  The dread lifting.  I will do whatever I have to if it means saving you.  I hit the send button and do the happy dance.  The dogs wake as I am jumping around.  I have won the lottery.  The killers will be investigated and shut down.  Your monthly visits will stop.  I have saved us.  I am so happy I don’t realize how naive I was about the power of addiction.

Once again I am that cat.  The one that got the canary.  I can’t stop smiling.  I have a secret.  I tell no one. I am stupid with cockiness.  I have done it.  I don’t say a word to you as I continue to observe your behavior.  Now unemployed you spend most of your time underfoot.  I force you to walk the dogs with me.  I force conversation all the while knowing that your supply will soon disappear.  I suggest physical therapy,  acupuncture anything but drugs.  I sneak down when I hear you in the shower and search.  Pills, pills, pills, finding your supply and controlling is all I can focus on.

An unrecognized number appears on my phone.  I cautiously answer.  Yes, this is she.  Hello Detective.  You’ve received my complaint.  Hallelujah, my brain is singing as you watch from afar.  I walk outside to finish what I have to say.  Would I be willing to testify,  Holy Hell, Absolutely.  I will stand on the roof and scream about the no good pill pushers.  I am flying.  I am supermom.  I have pulled it off.  I saved you and all the lost souls who have become victims of this practice.

Weeks pass.  I hear nothing.  Your appointment coincides with your unemployment check.  Hey Matt, what are you doing today.  You look at me, I’m going out.  I’m an adult, get off my back.  Ok, now I know where your headed.  I wonder how much longer this will go on.  You are leaving as the mail is arriving.  Oh God, in my hand is a letter from The Delaware Board of Medicine.  My heart is pounding.  I run into the house ripping into the  envelope.  My eyes see the words but my brain is not comprehending.  What, are they F***ing kidding me.  We find no fault with the prescribing methods of this practice.  I am silently screaming.  Did you not see the dose and amount of killer drugs they were prescribing.  Did you not get the fact that it is a cash only business.  No paper trail of income, WTF…Are you in on the deal.  Do you f***ers get a kick back.  I hear you pull into the driveway.  You come at me like I am your prey.  WTF did you do Mom.  Who the F**K do you think you are .. They kicked me out.  You reported them.  Are you out of your mind you crazy bitch.  Now you are the one screaming and I am the one staring.   Matt, please I was trying to help.  You don’t need that poison, please I didn’t know what else to do.  Well you did it alright.  You push me out of your way.  I hear you throwing stuff, Matt please can we talk.  Get out of my way, get out of my life.  Hate pours out of you and onto me.  Matt.  I run after your car as you speed away.  Oh God, what have I done.  Why don’t I learn.  Please keep him safe.  this is all my fault.  I thought I was so smart and all I did was screw everything up.  I call your cell.  It goes directly to voice mail.  I leave you a pleading message.  Matt, I will fix this.  I will find you a real doctor.  I will find you real help.  Oh God, Matt if I didn’t love you I wouldn’t care about what you did.  Please Matt, please.  I hear the beep.  Time up.  Voice mail over.  I was pleading to a dead phone.  Oh God, what did I do.  I walk inside and see myself in the hall mirror.  My eyes are empty, my face full of sadness.  I stare at a woman I no longer recognize.   Oh God, Help…..

 

Bye Bye Beach House My Son’s Coming Home

IMG_0637

Matt, I remember going to the U Haul dealer and ordering the truck.  I just couldn’t believe this was truly happening.  The guy kept asking what I was moving and every time I tried to tell him I would start to cry.   He probably thought I was getting divorced, not losing my beach house and bringing my addict son home.   I couldn’t even believe it myself.  I made plans to come back on Saturday to start the saddest ride of my life.   My next stop was to rent a storage unit.  Once again I couldn’t let myself even think about why this was happening.   The lady behind the counter was full of smiles when I walked it.  She started a conversation by asking what I was storing.  I’d become such a great liar always covering up your addiction I just whipped out my answer without blinking an eye.  Oh, my son lost his job.  It’s tough finding employment at the beach so he’s moving home until he finds something here.  He’s a great mechanic, I’m sure he’ll find a job soon and we’ll be back moving stuff out.  Great, end of story.  I signed the lease and took the contract, once again disbelieving this was truly happening.

Back home I was free to let my emotions loose.  I cleaned out closets and moved furniture to make room for you.  I talked to myself through my tears.  It will be ok, my brain kept repeating over and over again.  He will be here and you can watch him.  You will have more control over how he lives.  You will set boundaries and make rules.  These is the best solution for now.  Somehow I kept trying to convince myself that this arrangement wouldn’t kill me or get me arrested for killing you.

Talk about killing.  Just how great was this arrangement going to be on a new marriage.  Ray and I were just finding our rhythm and now here comes my unemployed, addicted, adult son.  Oh boy,  where’s the reality TV when you need it.  Well this would be the true test of that vow for better or worse, cause I could just feel in my gut that we were signing up for a whole lot of worse.

Driving down I kept asking Ray if he was really ok with this.  Hey, it’s too late now.  You put this in motion we can’t stop now.   Two friends volunteered to help.  Of course, I once again told the poor Matt story.  Can’t find a job at the beach, yada, yada and shot Ray a warning look to keep his mouth shut.  He was now in training on how to hide the truth about your addict.  This was a secret club.  A need to know basis only.  After all, Ray was now part of the dirty little secret club so he better know how to play.

We all arrived at the same time.  I was panicked.  I wanted to get there first and scope out the place and you.   No such luck.   I knocked and waited.  Dog barking but nothing else.  Oh God, please just today can you spare me this crap.  I use my key and am greeted by balls of black fur that caught a ride on the breeze from the door.  I will kill you.  I can feel the crazy mom starting to surface.  There you are on the couch looking like you’ve got no cares in the world.  I want to scream.  At least you have the decency to get up and realize I am not alone.  You flash that smile but I’m unaffected, I am going to kill you.   Ray can see what is going on and diverts our friends into another room to discuss where to start.  Matt,  thanks so much for doing what I asked.  I scan the room and see boxes half full, the kitchen full of dirty dishes.  I grab your arm and drag you into the kitchen.  I fill the sink and tell you to start washing.  My head is ready to explode.   Go ahead, say one word and I don’t care who sees it, I am so done with your BS.  You look at me and know we are on that slippery slope.  I can see you behind the mask of your demons.  I want to reach in and grab you but know the demons have control.

We are down to three.  All of us struggle to move the pieces into the truck.  You are oblivious to everything except the menial tasks I have demanded you do.   As each room is emptied another piece of me is broken.  I try to hide my tears, taking breaks outside to smell the sea air.  My mind is flooded with memories of happy times before  your demons came.  I question every decision, everything I did to save my piece of heaven.  Everything sold, all lost to your addiction.  Now the final straw.  Your disease has robbed you of love, your business, your health, now it’s robbed me of my dream.

I am openly sobbing as we close up the truck.  The dam broken and years of pent up anguish flood my being. You sit in the truck staring ahead.  I can’t look at or talk to you.  You have robbed me of the son I used to know.  The Matt you used to be.  My wing man, my partner in crime.  I walk inside and hold myself as I say goodbye to my paradise.  I close my eyes and can see the memories that are burned into my brain.  Parties, crabs and beer.  Coming home with a fresh catch.  You gutting the fish and throwing pieces at me as I ran screaming.  Both of us laughing.   I want you back.  Ray comes to me as I close the door for the last time.   It will be ok,  we will get through this.

We pull away and I turn to take one last look.  You are staring at me. You are back.  A tear is running down your face.  You reach for me and I grab your hand.   We lock eyes.  It will be ok,  you are coming home.  You will be safe.  I will help you get you back.  We will be wingmen, partners in crime, fighting the demons together.  That’s what families do.  Stick together.  We are both quiet on the ride home, no need to talk.  We’ve had years of reading each others eyes.   You fall asleep and memories of you being young flood my mind.  Sleeping in the backseat with your head on the window.  Nothing has changed.  You are now a man, but always my boy.

I look at Ray.  He grabs my hand.  You ok.  Yeah, I will be.  Just gotta get him help.  We ride home in silence.  Ok God,  I need a real wingman.  Someone with super human powers.  You up for this.   I’m hanging with my son.  I will not give up.  I remember looking at the sky.  The sun broke out from behind a dark cloud.  Ok God, I’m taking that as a yes.  I felt a peace fill my heart.  I looked back at my sleeping adult child.  Yes everything would be ok…….

Newer posts »

© 2024 Mother's Heartbreak

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑