Mother's Heartbreak

A Story of Addiction & Loss

Tag: chaos (Page 2 of 7)

My Son Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest….

February 19, 2016 / / 0 Comments

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Matt,   You really did it this time.  You had the balls to have your pill boy knock on my door.   What were you thinking, or not thinking I should say.   I still remember the shocked look spreading across his face as my punches kept coming.  I’ve never felt so out of control in my life.  Beating the person who brings you poison.  God, what a release.  It felt so good to punch and kick your demons.  Show him who’s boss, who’s in charge.   He’s the next best thing to punching the crap out of you.   That’s what I really want to do.  To duke it out with your demons.  An exorcism, like in the movies.  I want to wave a cross in your face.  Keep you tied up and safe.   I want you to stop destroying your life and dragging me down that black hole.   Dear God,  I can only hope no one saw my craziness.   Your addiction is turning me into someone I don’t recognize.   Never would I ever picture myself being the out of control mother that would be capable of physical violence.   Me, the nurse.  The care giver turned into a cussing, fist flying defender of you.   Oh Dear God what is happening to our lives.

Ok, so now how do we get past this?   How do we act like this never happened?  You are pissed.  Not talking.  Punishing me with your silence.   I tell you I did it to save you.  That one day we will look back on this and laugh.  One day when you are in recovery we will have a rip roaring belly laugh until tears flow and hugs are shared.  Forgiveness flowing from our hearts.  Me, forgiving you for the years of ugly chaos and you, forgiving me for pill destroying and running interference.   My dream of peace gets me through the next weeks of your healing.

You’re getting stronger and meaner every day.   You remind me of that caged tiger. Pacing from one end of his cage to the other.   Our home has become your cage, your prison.   I foolishly try to reason with you.  To get you to see my side.  I feel like I’m selling my soul to the devil.  I try to set boundaries.  To live here you must follow rules.   No pill deliveries.  No abusing.  You look at me with a piercing stare.  Your beautiful eyes, now cold.  Shark eyes, looking past my face into my soul.  I feel like I’ve been assaulted.   I look away.  A coldness settles in my soul.

I’m so worried about saving you that I forget about me.  I have a professional license.   All I need is for the cops to get wind of your activities and follow your supplier to my front door.   Those pills he tried to deliver where much stronger than those prescribed.   Your choice’s have once again threatened my sanity.  Now you’ve put my career in jeopardy.   The possibility of losing my nursing license is just too much to chance.   I tell you we must talk.  You sit and at least look at me.  I feel like I’m begging for my life.   “Matt,  if you stay there can be no more buying drugs”.   I hold my breath and wait.  You get up.   “No problem,  I’m going back to my friends”.   Just like that you pack.   I’m holding back my tears.  “Matt, please stop”.   I love you and want you to get well, please”.    I reach out for your arm.   You look back and tell me, “I’m not your little boy,  I’m not being told what to do by my mommy”.    Your words are like a slap.  I watch you walk out the door.   What’s left of my heart breaks again.   I close the door watching you pull away.   The pain of all these years hit.   I sit in the dark, alone with my memories.   My little boy.  My Matt. My tow headed shadow.   People would joke.   The doctor forgot to cut your cord they would say as you followed me every where.   What the hell happened to that boy.   Where did he go.  I listen and hear the laughter of your demons..

So now my sleepless nights return.  At least having you here allowed me to sleep.  Knowing you were under my roof and supposedly my control.   How stupid to think I controlled anything.   Now I lay in fear.   Fear of that phone call.  Fear of the police knocking on my door.   Fear gripping my heart as darkness settled.   My mind spinning with all the what if scenario’s dancing in my brain.  Why wasn’t there an off switch.   At least I could turn off for a few hours, but no, night after night your demons dance in my head.

You’ve been gone for two weeks.  It’s 2am I’m fighting the urge to just get up.  Stop the madness, knowing sleep will not come.   The headlights pierce the darkness of our bedroom.   My heart is in my throat.  Oh God,  my brain is getting ready.  This is it.  I leap out of bed jumping over Ray and run to the window.   You are in the driveway.  Stoned and screaming.  I fly downstairs and out the door.  You are waving a bottle.  I try to grab you.  Once again we are struggling for your survival.  I am on your back.  You have taken so many pills.   You tell me you want to die.  You can live like this no more.  Now, I’m screaming.  I don’t give a damn if the neighbors hear.  I’m sticking my fingers in your throat.  Puke Matt.  Just puke.  You are gagging as I see pills hitting the driveway.   More headlights.  Mike jumps out of his truck.   Oh God, how?   “Matts friend called, said Matt was threatening to end it tonight”.   Mike takes over restraining you.   His medical training  kicks in and his fingers replace mine.

I run into a startled Ray.  I’m screaming and violently shaking.  He doesn’t understand my craziness.  Seeing  you and Mike struggling in the driveway he runs outside.   So now at 2am your demons are making your family crazy.  We are battling for your life.  Mike and Ray finally calming you down while I’m calling for medical backup.  Calling all angels, my friend at Rockford.   I’m babbling.  “Help, help, help,”  She knows about your demons, she understands the distress call without any explanation.  “Get him here,  I’ll call ahead and meet you”.

I run back outside.  Neighbors lights are on and doors open.  I want to scream to leave us alone.  To scream into the darkness of night until I can scream no more.  We are struggling to get you into Mike’s truck.   You give up fighting and settle in.  I buckle you in and have a flashback of you sitting in your carseat and fighting being restrained and safe.  Have you always been this way?  Never wanting to be safe.  Fighting my attempts to restrain you.   I look into your eyes.  My tears falling onto your hands.  “Matt, we love you,  we will take care of this,  get you to safety”.   You look at me as a tear runs down your face.   “Mom, let go of him”,  I hear Mike’s voice as his engine roars to life.  “Let go, shut the door”.    “Mom,  I’ve got him, let go”.   You are no longer my babe sitting in a carseat.   You are a grown man  fighting for your life, fighting those who love you, fighting demons that have been unbeatable.   I stand in the driveway as Mike backs away.   Sobs wracking my body.  My two boys, now men.  I catch a last glimpse of your faces.   Matt, your eyes are closed.   Mike,  forever the big brother.   Determined to get you to safety.   Let go.   How does a mother let go?   Matt you are me and I am you.    I stand alone in the darkness.   Numb to the cold November night.   I look to the sky.   The night is clear, the sky full of stars.   Dear God, do you see what is happening?   Do you even care?   My son, on his way to a mental hospital.   Did you see him taking those pills?   Where are you?   I feel alone and abandoned.   I sit in the dark and google Rockford.   And so it begins.  Another ride on the roller coaster of addiction.   Chaos and craziness have become a way of life.   Hey Rockford,  do you have a bed for me?    This addict’s mom wants to be admitted.  Taken away.  No visitors.  No idea of what is happening in her world.   I want to be sedated.  I want Lala land.  I want to disappear into the sunset.  I want to be Alice.   I want my rabbit hole to be an endless ride through Wonderland.   I want to be The Mad Hatter.  To just be crazy or maybe The Queen of Hearts chopping off the head of whoever pisses me off.  I want to be anyone but   me,  the mother of an addict……..

Smile, We’re All On Candid Camera

February 6, 2016 / / 0 Comments

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Matt,  having you home was like living in hell.  I thought I saw all your ugliness spew from you before the accident.  Never realizing how much control your demon’s had over your brain.   I walked on eggshells holding my breath.  Choosing my words carefully.  Trying not to piss off the sleeping dragon.   I stayed home for a week.  I was emotionally battered.  I never remember feeling such joy knowing that in a few days I would be returning to saving the babies.   A touch of normal that I needed so badly.

So here we were stuck in another of you’re addiction dilemma’s.   Was it safe to leave you unsupervised.   You were instructed not to drive, but you never were one to follow instructions.  Especially  when the demons were calling.   You’re cravings were in control and there was no stopping you from leaving the house to find the love’s of your life.   I had no choice.  I had to return to work and to be honest with you, I needed to get away from your ugliness.  I called Mike to give him a head’s up. “Mom, you know he can’t be trusted.”   “Yeah Mike, I know.”  It broke my heart that after this brush with death you still thought you were invincible.  Taking your keys was a joke.  I knew you were sly like a fox and probably had another set hidden somewhere in the house.  Plus, you’re a mechanic.  I’ve heard your stories of hot wiring cars.  That familiar feeling of helplessness grabbed my heart again as we brainstormed on how to once again save you from yourself.

Your addiction was seeping through the fabric of our family.   Turning what should have been a joyous occasion into a problem that would keep us in a constant state of stress.  All the reasoning with you about being given a second chance fell on deaf ears.  You looked at me like I was the enemy, not you’re mom who once again was trying to save you.

Our house became a revolving door.  Who ever was free the day’s I worked would arrive with the pretense of “hanging out with Matt”.   At first you thought it was great.  You thought you could batter your  friends into taking you to get some extra poison.   Believe me I heard how manipulative you were becoming, but your friends were my army, the Queen’s men cutting the head off your plan of self destruction.

I guess I forget just how sly you could be when pushed to the limit.  You played the game to perfection.  I would come home to my daily verbal assaults.  Thinking my plan was working.  Little did I know you had found an old contact and now had a delivery service right to the front door.  Better than UPS or Amazon, you were the biggest shit with the perfect smile.   I knew something was up.  You were just too happy.  Back to the old Matt.   Mom’s intuition.  Ok Matt let’s dance.

The camera’s were installed in every room.  Yup even the bedrooms.  Hidden behind pictures and in plants.  I felt like James Bond.  Little devices that allowed us to watch and hear your every move.  Spying on my son.  Dear God, what I wouldn’t do to save you from yourself.  At first I felt guilty when I snuck upstairs to watch the new reality TV show that’d become my life.   I named it, “Find Matt and Guess What He’s Up To.”   I honestly had no idea what I would see.  I was scared to death.

This took the place of our old game.  You hide, I seek.  With you underfoot all day I just couldn’t picture myself carrying down my ladder and going through the ceiling tiles like the old days.  Shit, that was so much easier than playing I spy.   I soon got over my guilt as I watched your hands explore places I would have bet my life you would never go near.  Soon things began disappearing.  Little things.  Things I never would have missed had I not seen it attached to your hand.

You were right back to that Matt.  Your supply coming right to our door.  Being financed by me, Mike and Ray.  WTH was I going to do.  Stealing to buy your perc’s. My heart broke every time I saw what you were up to.   My Matt once again under the control of the devil.  There’s a saying that “An addict will steal your wallet then help you look for it”.   Well holy shit I was living that life.

I remember the day the shit hit the big ugly addiction fan.  You borrowed a Dremel kit from Mike.   You would spent your days making jewelry or so you said.  I use the word borrowed, but in reality you sold it right out from under him.  “Hey Mom, does Matt have my Dremel set?”   That question was the opening of Pandora’s box. You are both downstairs.  I hear your voices.  Louder and louder.  Brother fighting brother as the addict helps  look for something he can’t even remember selling.   In the midst of the screaming, I hear the doorbell.   A delivery for Matt.

I remember grabbing the guy by his shirt.  Words unknown to mankind fly out of my mouth.   I slap him and push him off the porch.  He was expecting Matt.  I am in such a rage I don’t hear or see anything.  I am punching and kicking and screaming at your buddy.  All the years of pent up rage flying out of my arms and fists.  Beating your demon with everything in my soul.   I am pushed aside.  Your brother shoving me to safety.    Mike is bigger.  Your demon runs dropping his delivery.   I throw myself on the bottle before he can grab his loss.   He is gone.   The pills are mine.

I am shaking, bruised and bleeding.   Mike is trying to calm me as the sobs come.   You appear.  “WTF” are the words we hear.  You’re face says it all.   Your eyes hate me.    You see the bottle.   “WTF did you do?”   I run to the bathroom.   Mike grabs you as I throw your poison away.   Your words cut my heart.   Mike is threatening to punch your face if you don’t shut your mouth.

You and Mike now going at each other.  Like panthers coming in for the kill.  Sizing each other up.   I close my eyes and remember my two little boys.   Loving, happy, the best of friends.   Addiction has changed the fabric of our family.   What started as a small tear has now ripped us wide open.   I try to come between you but I get the look to keep my distance.   This battle is between you and Mike.   I go upstairs.  I throw the camera shattering it into pieces.   Broken pieces like our family.   I see myself in the mirror.  My swollen eyes, bruised  arms.   I grab a towel cover my mouth and scream…….

 

 

 

Surviving The Slippery Slope: Hanging On By A Thread

January 24, 2016 / / 0 Comments

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Matt.   The wait felt endless.  The four of us sitting together.  The silence is deafening.  I am praying that you will survive.  I hate being a nurse.  My knowledge is killing me.   We wait for hours.  I watch the sun go down from the window and pray this will not be your last day on earth.  I relive every moment.  I hate myself for telling you to leave.  I hate the fighting, the chaos, the destruction your addiction has thrust on our lives.  I want you to be that little towhead boy again.  The one who holds my hand and gives me hugs and kisses.  I want to close my eyes and go back in time.  Where are my ruby red slippers when I need them.

So once again I wait.  I tell everyone to go.  I will stay and call if anything changes.  Ray, Mike and Heather need to get some rest.  Everyone having to work in the morning but me.   Terri brings a pillow and blanket.  I camp out in the ICU waiting room.  My body shaking uncontrollably as I try to settle in for the night.   I curl up in a chair and let the tears come.  How many times will we go through this until you realize your demons are killing you.  Little by little, piece by piece, your body and mind are leaving me.    I try to calm my mind.  I jump with every noise.  Fearing the worst.  I give up on sleep and pace the room.  I talk to God.

The girls in the NICU have heard.  The hospital grapevine.  They come bringing coffee and soup.  They sit and let me sob covering me in their hugs.  They are mother’s and can’t believe this has happened again.   Your surgeon finds me.  You are being moved to the ICU.  No surgery for now.  Heavily drugged, your battered body covered in warm blankets.  I watch you being wheeled behind those doors.  The doors where I know you will get the best of care.  The doors that will separate us for now.  I’m told your nurse will come after you are settled.   Time is standing still.  I need to see you.  To tell you I am here.  To tell you I love you.  To let you know that no matter what I will never give up this fight.  You have taken my world and spun it out of control.  Shattering my peaceful life into a million pieces.   People tell me to walk away to save myself.  You are not worth the pain you put me through.  I remember you before the demons.  My beautiful boy.  My go to guy.  My baby.  I find a strength in my soul I never felt before.  I know that I will stand by you until I can stand no more.

Matt, your recovery is slow and steady.  I become a fixture in the waiting room.  Visiting you for 15 minutes every hour.  I obey the rules, not wanting to cause conflict with your nurses’ or the other anxious waiting parents.  I sit in scrubs or street clothes depending on my purpose for that day.  Back to saving Matt or saving babies.  I spend every free minute waiting to see your face.  To watch your reaction to your pain.  I wonder if you realize how close you came to death.   I wonder if this will be your so called rock bottom or if the pull from your demons will drag you back to the hell that landed you in this ICU.

Mike and Ray are in and out.  Both offering food and coffee.  Both knowing I can barely eat and am going nowhere until you are out of the woods.  When I visit you are quiet.  An IV hanging, giving you monitored doses of your favorite cocktail.  Your breathing is comfortable.  Your body looks like a giant eggplant with a human head sitting on top.  I sit on your bed and hold your hand.  Tears run down my face.  I can’t allow myself to think of what could have happened.  The nightmare that haunts my daily thoughts.  Losing you.  You open your eyes and smile.  I squeeze your hand and kiss your cheek.  “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck” you say and give me a little laugh.   I allow myself a laugh, a deep breath.  You are back.

The next days are one of laughing, crying and biting my tongue.  You are moved to a step down unit and are expected to get up and move.  Yup, my spoiled boy, this party is over.   Your drugs are being weaned and you are being pushed.  I hear you before I find your room.   Your flirty eyes and sweet smile are getting you nowhere as the nurses are onto you.   I hear their whispers, drug seeker, addict.  I cringe inside when I remember being one of them.  Making judgements about people and their pain without knowing their story.  I remember and feel shame.  I continue our charade of nurse/mother to a man who survived a horrible accident.   I visit with my painted smile as you cuss and threaten when your demons are not delivered at your request.  I remain calm when inside I am dying.  You behave like an addict.  A stranger.  You scream at me and tell me I don’t understand your pain.  I don’t live in your body.  I try to reason with your abuse.   The nurse’s look at me with pity in their eyes.  They feel my pain.

Discharge day arrives.  I brace myself.  Your surgeon is taking over your pain control.  You see Matt, I have another dirty little secret.  Your surgeon and I go way back.  He has my back.  Joined my team to save Matt.  So now the fun begins.   I pick you up at the front door.  You are wheeled out by one of your nurses.  She hugs me and whispers good luck.  You see Matt, nurses have an unspoken bond.  They had my back too.  I was the one calling the shots during your recovery.  I spilled my guts the night I thought you were leaving me.  Your surgeon held me as I cried and together we formed a plan.   Detox during recovery.  I know if you ever find out I am done.    I will once again be the bitch.  The mother fu**** that gets into your business.  The enemy trying to save your life so she can save hers.  I hear your grunt as I hand you the bottle that you love more than life.  I brace myself for the reaction I have come to fear.  Your first words to me “What the F***”, when you see the dose prescribed.   Your eyes bore into my soul.  You turn your back as you say the words I pray you don’t mean.  Matt, how can you hate me when I am the one picking up your pieces.  The one who loves you more than her life.  The one slowly dying inside with you.  Your addiction no longer  belongs to you.  It has become who I am.  I’m disappearing with you.  Your demons are taking me along for the ride.  It’s not all about you.  It’s about a mother who will never give up.  A mother who will kick, scream and claw our way out of your addiction.  A mother who would rather die than see you continue to destroy her precious boy.

The house is silent.  I offer you food.  I try to let you know how blessed we are that you lived.  I wait for a response.  I get nothing.  You are in that world.  You have chosen sides.   The battle begins again.  I pray for strength.  I close my eyes and dream that I am Alice floating down the rabbit hole.  Leaving all this shit behind.   I am slowly losing myself.  Pieces of me are floating away.  I imagine myself disappearing.   Then I hear the laughter.  Your demons.  I become the Queen of Hearts.  My army chopping off their heads…….

A Matt With Nine Lives

January 10, 2016 / / 0 Comments

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Matt.   So this tender love seemed to be working.  You would stop by to visit Kahlua.  You looked reasonably straight.  We were trying to work on getting back to you and me.  I couldn’t stay mad forever.  I was becoming cautiously optimistic that Ray and I did the right thing.  I was okay knowing you had a roof over your head and food that of course I’d send with you each visit.  You blew my mind during one visit when you thanked me for kicking you out.  I’ll never forget your smile as you said, “Mom,  I’m really glad you kicked me out”.  “It’s about time I figure out how to take care of myself”.  You gave me one of those bear hugs as you left.  I watched you walk to your car with a mixed feeling of joy and sadness.  This was never what I wanted.  I wanted you living at the beach.  I wanted you to be successful.  I wanted our life back.  I wanted you back and I wanted me back.

You shocked me when you came home one day and announced you found a job.  Working at the same auto parts store you did in high school.  You were so proud.   I was so sad.  I smiled and hugged you, all the time thinking how much your demons cost you.  Prior to the pills,  you owned a very successful business.  Living my dream life by the sea.  Now here you were working for minimum wage exactly where you started a million years ago.  I wondered if you actually passed the drug test or if you were able to sweet talk your way back in.   I guess I couldn’t be too picky.  Wanting you to be who you no longer were.  At least you had a place to be and responsibility.  I prayed this was a step in the right direction.  That if you started to feel useful and were surrounded by clean people maybe just maybe normal would find us again.

Matt, I remember the call like it was yesterday.  It was a beautiful summer day.  Ray and I were tag teaming the housework so we could head out to mountain bike.  Ray was happier knowing I was fine with you not living here as long as I controlled where you lived. We were finding a new rhythm, finally having the house to ourselves.  I never realized the enormous chaos you created until it was gone.   I was learning how to focus on something other than saving you.  A little piece of the way life could be.

Ray was vacuuming,  I was in the kitchen.  My cell rang.  Surprisingly, I heard it.  A number I didn’t recognize.  Any other time I would not have answered.  That little voice and a chill had me grabbing my phone.  “Hello”.  I hear a voice asking if I am MaryBeth.  Dear God, do I want to be?  Yes, I can feel my body starting to react.  My soul knew it was you.  “Yes, who is this?”   The next words brought me to my knees and had Ray at my side.  “Oh God,  is he alive,  please tell me the truth”.  You’re a nurse, so am I.  “Please stay with him, tell him I love him, please keep him alive for me”.  “Yes, Christiana, I work there, please tell them to get him to Christiana.”  I’m sobbing trying to talk to you as this nurse holds the phone to your ear.  She tells me you are still breathing but the accident was a head on and you are in very bad shape.  I stay on the phone until I hear the medics arrive.  She again reassures me you are still alive.  I hear the medics muffled words.  Calling ahead to alert the E.D a trauma is coming.  I don’t want to hang up.  I can’t lose our connection.  I want to keep telling you that I love you.  That I will be there.  Please don’t leave me.  Please fight, breathe, stay alive.

We fly to the E.D.  Ray has already called Mike.  Ray pulls up and slows down as I leap out.  I see the ambulance and know you were it’s patient.  A nurse/mother’s instinct.  I run in and am ignored by the unit clerk sitting in triage behind the plexiglass screen on her phone.  I am ready to punch the window to get her attention.  I look up and Terry, a nurse I worked with during my E.D days smiles.  Hey, what are you doing here.  My son is your trauma.  He was just brought in.  She asks for your name.  “Matt”.  Her smile disappears. She walks toward me and wraps an arm around me.  “You need to come with me”, she says.  Ray runs in the door and sees us.  Terry tells him to stay back and wait.  She continues to guide me toward those doors.  Oh God,  “Terry, I can’t do this.  I remember being the nurse and taking parents like you are taking me”.  ” I can’t do this”.  My body is racked with sobs.  I’m shaking so badly I can barely think or walk.   “Mare, you can do this, you must do this”.   She tightens her grip as we walk into the trauma room.  All eyes turn toward me.   “Hey, what are you doing here?”  I’m surrounded by a sea of familiar faces.  “That’s my Matt”.  I walk to the table.  You’re body is broken.  Purple bruising covers your chest.  The doc is scanning your abdomen.  I tell you I’m here and squeeze your hand.  You are alive.  I stifle a sob and try to calm my trembling body.  Terry remains by my side.  I don’t know why but my nurse mode turned on.  I’m looking at the scans asking about your liver and spleen pointing out things I don’t want to see.  I’m asking which Trauma Surgeon is coming.  I’m relieved when one of the best will be arriving shortly.  I’m asking about pain control and my mind is running down the trauma protocol when I hear this young nurse cop an attitude.  “Who does she think she is?”  I’m ready to scream, “I’ll tell you who I am smart ass, snot nosed, don’t know nothing little shit”.   Terry saves me from my tirade.  “Shut up, you have no idea who she is, she was our trauma coordinator,  She was here when you were being potty trained”.   We exchange a glance.  The trauma surgeon takes his place by my side.  He gives me a hug.  “Hey, we got this. You try to be the mom, we will do everything, you know we love you and he is one of our’s.  Go take a break.  I’ll see you soon”.

Terry walks me to that room.  The one we always deliver bad news in.  I tell her I can’t wait there.  Too many memories of families I’ve stayed with.  The mother’s and father’s I held as the news of loss was delivered.  I’m shaking again.  Ray opens the door.  He’s been waiting for me.  I collapse in his arms.  I tell him you are alive and to pray.  The door swings open.  Mike walks in with Heather.  His face says it all.  I tell him you are alive.  He needs to see you.  I call Terry.  Yes, Mike go.  Terry meets him and takes him to see your battered body.   I’m pacing as Mike returns with an officer.  He sits and tells me he was at the scene.  Witnesses say you crossed the center line.  He apologizes as he hands me your ticket.   He tells me how sorry he is.   They have drawn a drug screen.  The results are pending.  He leaves us in silence.  Each one of us lost in our thoughts.  I’m giving thanks that you are alive.  I’m praying you will recover.  The sadness surrounding your family  binds us.  Your addiction is killing us.

What started out as a day of happiness has turned into one of fear.  Once again not knowing where we were headed.  The normal I was starting to feel shattered.  The chaos of your demons never letting up.  I thought I had regained some control of my life.  How foolish to think after all we survived that normal would ever find us again.   Mike goes for coffee.  He needs to cry for his broken brother.  His only sibling.  Matt, your tough as nails brother is sobbing.  I wonder how much more we will survive.  How many more insults your body can take.  I wonder how to fix this.  The door opens again.  Our surgeon.  My heart stops.  He sits.  Your spleen is torn, several vertebra are fractured.  They are keeping you heavily sedated.  Watching closely for changes that will buy you a trip to the O.R.  He hands me a small bag, his eyes full of pity.  Matt our dirty little secret is out.  “He’s an addict”.  Those ugly words flying around the room.  Your demons laughing.  My heart breaking.  They will pump you full of drugs.  They have no choice.   I hear the roller coaster pulling up.  I see myself getting on.  The bar locking firmly in place.  I have no control.  I sob as if the world is ending.  My fantasy over.  The ride will start again………

 

 

Biting The Hand That Feeds You And So Much More….

December 27, 2015 /

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Matt.  I must say you did give us a short break after you got home.  Either that or you weren’t able to get your hands on any pills.  You did the all the things I asked.  Went to meetings, cleaned the house when I was working.  You passed all my spot checks.  No swaying walk or sloppy speech.  No stupid laugh or glassy eyes.  For a brief moment I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe you were on the right path.  Even Mike thought we might be heading in the right direction.    It was so nice to have a little touch of normal.   I still looked through your stuff when you weren’t around.  I still went through your text messages when you showered.  Old habits that become a way of life when your son is an addict.  The weather was breaking and I foolishly thought that the spring would be a new beginning for us.   That was until I came home early.

The NICU was slow that day and I was the first to get PTO.  I jumped at the chance.  Working only four hours when I was scheduled to work twelve.  What a gift.  It was Friday and the start of a week off.  I floated out the door and into the sunshine.  I was still under the illusion that you were on the road to recovery and that was definitely something to celebrate.  I stopped by the store to get your favorite Bubba Burgers and other junk you loved.  I envisioned all of us eating, talking, being normal.  I hadn’t felt such joy for so long, I  let it fill my battered mind.   Turning into our development, I see a car leaving.  A car and driver that I’d seen before but just couldn’t put my finger on where.  My senses now on alert.  My heart starting to speed up.  My breath coming from my tightening chest.  Palms sweaty.  WTH was going on.  My gut reaction, my fight or flight in full force.  I pull into the garage and forget about the groceries that minutes ago gave me such happiness picking out.   Something is not right…

I walk in quietly.  The dogs run to greet me.  No barking, tails down.  They lead me to you.  Slumped over on the couch.  Coffee spilled on the floor.  A bottle of opened pills scattered on your lap.  Shit…..Now I know.   Your buddy from the beach making a drop off.  I grab you and start slapping.  You open your glassy eyes.  Hey Mama.  I want to scream, to kill you with my bare hands.   Matt, Matt get up.  I grab the bottle and gather the fallen pills.  I pray the dogs have not eaten any of your poison.  I drag you by your shirt and throw you fully clothed into the cold shower.  Your cussing screams let me know that the cold water is hitting you like my fists want to.   I run upstairs clutching your pills.  Breathless and wet I hide them.  Your favorite demons, Percocet and Xanax have entered my fantasy world  once again blowing it to pieces.  I’m so angry I’m shaking.  Heart pounding.  I want to grab you and scream in your face.  I want to punch you until I can punch no more.  Instead I put on my “I don’t know what you’re talking about face” and head back downstairs.  You are out of the shower and pissed as hell.  WTF Mom.   What did you do that for.  Ok, my fox, you treat me like I’m dumb so I’m playing dumb.  Matt,  I just got so scared.  You were laying there just like the old days.  You know, the days I’d come home and find you stoned on the couch.  Coffee spilled on the floor.  You remember, right, I say through my smile.  I’m so sorry.  Guess I over reacted.   Mom, I just fell asleep, that’s all.

I remember the groceries and walk out to my car still trying to calm my pounding heart.  I return to find you bent over searching the floor.  “What ya looking for”, I ask.  Nothing, you answer.  “Hey, clean up that coffee stain while you’re down there”.  I go about my business trying not to think of the pills I’ve hidden.  I wonder how many you took and if you will start to withdraw.  I wonder how long this has been going on.  God, I wonder how I could have been so gullible.  I wonder lots of things but mostly I wonder if our lives will ever be normal.

Saturday morning is sunny and warm.  You are dark and nasty.  You are sneaking around looking.  Thinking I don’t know what you’re up to.  I continue to play dumb.  “Mom, did you find anything when you woke me up yesterday?”  “What would I find”, I ask.  Trying to contain my smile.  It’s almost sick, but I feel like I’m giving you a dose of your own medicine.  You lie to me, I lie to you.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Matt”.  I go through my day, cleaning, laundry and continuing to play our game.  You are getting restless.  Pacing, some sweating, a little itching all subtle signs I’m watching for.   Finally you get angry.  “Mom, you took my pills.  Stop your shit and give them back.  They are my pills. You have no right”.  “Matt, I love you.  I’ll be out in the garden”.

I open the shed and grab everything I need to play in the dirt.  Garden therapy I call it.  Pulling and planting.  I lose myself in the dirt and allow myself to relax.  I Pod playing thru my new ear buds taking me away from the chaos playing out in the house.   Ray breaks my peace.  “Hey, did you take Matt’s pills?”   “What if I did? ” I’m not saying one way or another.  “”Well, he’s in there raising hell.  He’s tearing his place up, cussing and threatening”.  Ok,  I’ll handle it.  I brush off the dirt and walk right into you as you are flying out onto the deck.   “Mom, I know you have them. Give them to me”.  “Matt, I love you and yes I have them”.  “No, I’m not giving them back”.  “You need help and I’m helping you”.  “I’m off all week.  If you go through withdraw I will help you.  But no pills”.  You turn ugly like a cobra ready to strike.  You punch the air and start cussing me out.  “I love you Matt”.  I put my ear buds back in place and walk back to the dirt.   Ray follows.  “You can’t do this.  He will go crazy”.  “Ray, I’ve done this before.  He won’t hurt me.  You need to leave.  This is between me and Matt”.  You look at me like I’ve got two heads.  “Are you out of your mind?  I’m not leaving you alone with him”.   “No really, I want you too.  I don’t want you to see the ugliness that will spew from him.  It’s not who he is”.  I start to cry as you bust through the door and start cussing to my face.  “Matt, I’m doing this because I love you”.  I walk inside to get away.  My phone rings,  “Mom, what is going on over there?”  “Matt called.  He’s accusing you of taking his pills”.  “Mike, I took his pills and I’m not giving them back”.  “Mom, is that Matt screaming at you?”  “Yes Mike,  It’s ok.  I’ve been through this before it’s nothing new.  I told Ray to leave, this is between me and Matt”.  I hang up and go back outside.  Every time you attack I tell you that I love you.  My tears are now mixing with the dirt.  My quiet place invaded by your demons.

Mike arrives.  I’m out in the garden.  “Mom, Matt called the police.  They are coming”.  ” What are you talking about?  He’s downstairs.  He settled down” .

Mom, he called the police.  Now I’m the one who’s pissed.  “Are you shitting me?  That b…..  Good, let them come.  Maybe we can get him real help”.   I walk into the house as the first police car pulls up.  Followed by two more.

Really.  Are you Fuc*** kidding me.  You appear with a cocky smile all over your face.  I want to smack the hell out of you.  I open the door and see my neighbors running and walking dogs all craning their necks to see.  I want to shout.  Mind your business.  This is not who I am.  I have done nothing wrong except try to save my son.  Jesus, I want to dig a hole and climb in never to return to this living hell my life has become.  So much for the neighborhood.  Yup, the property values just plummeted.  Sell now before this becomes a daily occurrence.

So here we are.  Mike, Ray and me standing in my driveway talking to two police officers while you are on the porch talking to another.  You have called in a domestic dispute.  These poor cops had no idea what they were walking into hence the backup.  “Hello officer,  I’m Marybeth, Matt’s mom.  He called you to come.  Exactly what was his complaint.  Pills, yes officer I took them.  I’m a nurse trying to save my addict’s life.  No, no one else knows where they are”.  I look at you, now pacing like a caged animal.  Domestic dispute  I’m thinking.  My mind is saying, “officers please close your eyes”.  I just need ten minutes with this conniving  little shit.  Then we can call it a domestic dispute.  Call it assault by a mother who is going out of her mind.  A mother who has spent years living with the chaos of her son’s addiction.  A mother that had suffered mentally and physically.  A mother who would give her life to save her son.

The officers begin to get the picture.  You are getting mouthy.  Your officer is trying to calm you down.  My brain is praying that you become aggressive and I can watch you be carted off to rehab.  Your officer is calling the Psyche Crisis Line.  My heart is souring.  Yes, yes, finally we will get help.  Thank you God.  Ha Ha, my little monster, you did this to yourself.  I’m so happy in my fantasy I don’t hear what is being said.   “What, are you crazy.. Sorry officer but I’m not giving his pills back”.  “Do you not see the shape he is in.  I have fought this battle for years.  I need your help.  You see what he is.  No way, sorry.  It ain’t happening.  We are detoxing today and hopefully you can take him to rehab”.  Now both Mike and Ray are telling me it’s not worth it.  “Mom, just give him his damn pills.  He called the cops on you”.  WTF.  Your yelling grabs everyone’s attention.  You are on the phone with the psyche crisis evaluator.  I hear your lies, “yes, I’m fine, just need my pain meds”.   “No, I’m not abusing them, no I’m not suicidal, I just need my pills”.  I bolt up to the porch.  “Give me that phone” I yell as I grab it out of your hand.  Hello, I try to remain calm but I’m quickly losing it.  “Yes, I’m his mother, he’s an addict and I took his pills to save his life”.  “He will kill himself if he doesn’t stop”.  “Please help me, he needs rehab, please”.  I am begging for our lives.  The officers are looking at me with such pity.  I have no pride as I continue to beg for help.  “What, seriously, you think he’s stable”.  Now I’m screaming.  “You asshole, do you have to hear the gun cock before you realize that someone is unstable?”  “Do you not hear the desperation in his voice, the speech, WTH, you are no professional, go to hell”.  Great, now I look like the crazy mom I’ve become, but tried to keep hidden from the world.

Excuse me,  The young officer approaches carefully.  Oh boy, probably thinking he’s got a loony lady to deal with.  I’m really sorry.  I understand what you are doing, but if you don’t give him back his pills I will have to arrest you.  Now both Ray and Mike are at my side.  “There is no way you are arresting my mom, what is wrong with you”.  Ray is getting pissed.  “Where are the pills, I’ll give them back, this is crazy”.  Nope.  I look up at you and see the hate pouring out of you toward me.  “Matt, I love you but I’m not giving you the pills”.  “Ok officer, I’ll go to jail.  It’s going to be a relief to be away from here.  It’s about to get real ugly and I’d rather miss the whole BS”.   “Actually officer,  jail would be like heaven right now.  Calm and quiet.  Can I grab a book?”  Ray and Mike are screaming at me but I’ve made up my mind.  “Just don’t cuff me, ok”.  The officer looks at me with such sadness.  The other officer is doing his best to calm Ray and Mike.  You remain on the porch killing me with your eyes.  I look away.  I can’t look at the man you have become.  My heart is breaking.  I walk toward the police car and feel a hand on my shoulder.  The young officer stops me.  “Please think this through, you are a nurse.  You will be charged with stealing narcotics, that’s a felony “.  “You will go before a judge today.  I can’t guarantee the outcome”.  “You will lose your nursing license and spend time in jail.  “Please, I see what you are doing, but Mike and Ray are right, you are too kind to suffer like this”.   Now Mike is on the porch.  Both my boys going head to head.  One defending his mother the other defending his demons.  My boys once so close are now close to killing each other.  Ray grabs my arm.  “I will not let you do this, get the f***ing pills or I will tear this house apart until I find them”.

I am shaking.  I’m sick inside.  I’m defeated by your demons.  I go inside as the officers stay with you and Mike.  Ray follows me inside.  “His addiction is going to kill you”, he says as I hand him the pills.  He leaves and I watch from the window as he walks up to you and hands you the bottle of poison.  The sobs catch in my throat.  I hold myself as I fall apart.  Barely able to breathe.  Two officers pull away.  The young one stays behind.  I hear him talking to you.  He is telling you how lucky you are to have a mom who loves you enough to risk everything to save you.  He tells you to get help.  He tells you how blessed you are to live in this beautiful home with a family that cares so much.  I hear his words and let the sobs rack my body.  Yes, my beautiful son.  I would go to jail to save you.  I would walk through hell and take on the devil if it meant getting you away from the demons that are killing our family.  I watch the last officer walk to his car.  He looks up at the window and tips his hat to me.

Ray and Mike find me upstairs. ” Mom, I can’t believe he called the police on you.  He is such a prick”.  I hear the words I’ve been dreading.  “He can’t stay here.  I’ve had enough.  This was the last straw.  After everything you’ve done for him.  All the years of  taking care of his problems and this is what he does”.  Oh God Matt.  I know you are very sick.  You have really done it this time.  I hear you come in.  You immediately go downstairs to your hideaway.  I can only imagine what you are doing.  I’m so beat down.  I just sit and cry.  Mike hugs me before he leaves.  I tell him you are sick.  I tell him not to judge or hate you.  This family has to stick together.  He looks back with tears in his eyes.  “Yeah Mom”.  Ray sits next to me.  I have no words.  I am numb.  I hear the words again.   “Figure out what you need to do, but he can’t stay here, not after this”.

Matt, I sit alone in my room.  I thought this was finally a way to get you help.  I was happy you called the police.  Overjoyed.  I was ready for them to take you away to a safe place.  Psyche Crisis.  What a joke.  Everything working against a mom trying to save her son.  I can’t even pray anymore.  Nobody listens.  I curl up on my bed.  The pups find me.  They jump up and curl their bodies next to mine.  I feel their breathing.  It calms me.  I think of the nightmare this day had become.  The peace of the garden long forgotten.  I close my eyes and will myself to disappear.  I want to be Alice or Dorothy.  Clicking my red slippers or falling down my rabbit hole.  Dear God, anyone but the mother of an addict………

 

 

 

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