A Story of Addiction & Loss

Tag: chaos (Page 3 of 7)

A Meeting Of The Minds

IMG_0733

Matt, there was really no way to give you a heads up that your brother was now in on our dirty little secret.  I just couldn’t keep up the lies anymore.  I was so beat down by your behavior that I told him for me.  I am not a liar and it was very hard for me to continue to make up stories to your brother.  He’s a very smart man and it was only a matter of time before he figured it out.  I felt he needed the whole truth before he signed up for the ride of his life.  I witnessed your ugliness when it came to your precious pills but he still thought you were his charming little brother.

The meeting was days away.  I went from being excited at the thought of seeing you clean to being a shaking mess at the thought of your reaction to both me and your brother showing up.  I had no experience in the world of rehabs and had no idea if you were even aware of this upcoming event.  No communication was their rule and I wasn’t about to stir the pot if it meant getting you healthy.

Mike and I talked several times before the meeting trying to come up with our plan on how to approach your situation.  We were going to present a united front.  I tried to prepare him for the Matt that took up residence in your body, but until you witnessed the behavior first hand it was hard to imagine.  I knew the power of the demons, he was about to find out.

Meadow Wood presents itself as a Behavioral Health System.  Like I said, I had no idea what to expect.  I spent my years in the NICU and had no idea how they would treat addiction.  I tried to educate myself about the services they offered.  Qualified clinicians providing services 24/7.   Psychotherapies both individual and group were offered.   Family education, after care and discharge planning.  The more I read the more upbeat I became.  Finally there was hope that you would get and stay clean.  I prayed you would be there until you were strong enough physically and mentally to fight the poison your body craved to live.

Matt, the day is finally here.  I am shaking and sweating.  It’s a crisp, sunny perfect fall day.  I took that as a sign today would go as I planned.  You, me and Mike all united in the fight.  Supporting you in your recovery. Mike was meeting me in the parking lot.  I arrive and he’s waiting in his truck.  Hey Mom, you ready for this.  I’m as ready as I’m going to be.  Hey Mike,  be kind.  He’s been through so much already.  He’s probably going to be embarrassed that you know what’s been going on.   Mom, I’ll handle it, don’t tell me how to feel. Sorry, you’re right.  This is between you and Matt.  I felt a cold chill run through my body.  My mind warning me to hold on.  The roller coaster was just getting ready to take off.

Matt, the look on your face sucked the breath out of my lungs.  I don’t know what I expected but the look that greeted me was full of hate.  First, you see me, then Mike.  The tension in the room is stifling.  Your counselor looks like she just finished preschool.   She had no clue as to how manipulative you have become.   She has no clue that you have learned how to play this game.  You know what to say and how to say it.   I sit and listen to how you have been the victim.  How hard I’ve made your life.  I can’t even look at your face.  I want to click my magic heels and return to Kansas.  Any where but here.   I can feel the anger building in Mike.  I keep giving him the look.  Oh God, please this room is about to explode.

Your brother has heard enough.  I close my eyes and will myself to disappear.  I listen as he retells our story and calls you out on everything you have put me through.  Your counselor looks like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, looking for the magic hole to slide down.  I want to follow and never return.  You sit in your chair.  Squirming like you did in school when I had to meet you in the principal’s office.   Oh God, I am silent as you and Mike go head to head.  I can’t even speak.  My mind is saying get up and run for your life.  Your counselor is no way prepared for the wrath of your older brother.   I wasn’t prepared for the anger spewing from Mike.  I try to speak but can’t find the words to fix this.  My boys at each other.  Your addiction has taken another victim.   You have learned nothing in the week you have spent away.  Your cockiness shining through with every word you speak.  It’s your life.  Your responses blow my mind.  Never in a million years did I ever expect this.  The meeting full of ugliness and accusations.  How do we go on from here.

Mike and I walk out together.  I try to stop the sobs that are forming in my throat.  I feel so defeated.  Mike,  I try to talk but the words won’t come.  Mom, I just can’t believe he sat there like he’s the victim.  Like he’s done nothing wrong.  Who the hell does he think he is.   I try to explain that it’s not you.  It’s the disease.  I tell Mike that I know his anger.  I lived with anger blaming you for this chaos that took over our lives.   Until I saw first hand the horror of detox.   I’ve had glimpses of the old Matt before the demons.  My education in addiction has been ongoing.  Mike is new to the craziness that has become a way of life for me.  Mike, we have to work together, we can’t tear each other apart.  Matt is sick.  He needs help.  I didn’t bring you on board to fight.   Mom, I’m sorry.  I just couldn’t believe how he sat there and played that girl.  If these people are the experts then we are in for a hell of a ride.

We hug as you walk me to my car.  I watch you pull away.  I sit in the dark and let my emotions loose.  The sobs rack my body.  I try to get control but have no power over the tears.  That familiar feeling of hopelessness returns.  I can’t believe a family meeting tore our family apart.  My two boys, once so close now so far apart.  I closed my eyes and relived the destruction of our lives.   I wondered how these so called professionals could be so blind to your cleverness.  Your demons outwitting the people I counted on for help.   I didn’t realize it that night but your brothers words rang true.  The experts were blind and we were in for one hell of a ride.

 

Are you Matts Mom, Oh God Do I Want To Be

img 201

Matt, there is no sleep for me tonight.  I am physically shaking.  I want to puke until there is nothing left and I disappear into thin air.  Everything back fired in my face.  I thought I was just so cool.  Grabbing your scripts and reporting the pill pushers.  I really thought the medical community would support my whistle blowing shutting down the practice and cutting off your supply.  Never did I think you would be let in on my plan and turn against the mom who is fighting to save your life.  Ahh, what did the mad little pill pusher say to you.  Your mommy ratted me out and now I can’t poison you anymore cause she might come beat me up.  Why didn’t they just tell you that they were not the right place for you and you needed to move on.  Why bring me into it.  Just shows what true assholes they really are.  If they cared at all I would have been willing to meet with them and work out a weaning protocol, getting you safely off the poison.  But no, they just cut you lose.  WTH was I going to do now.  You and your 90 Percocet and God knows how many Methadone in you hot pissed off hands.

I blow up your voice mail with pleading message after message begging you to please come home and once again let me explain.  Your mailbox now full, I start texting.  I can’t believe this is happening.  I am slowly going out of my mind with worry.  I start calling your close friends.  Tell them there is a family emergency and I really need to talk to you.  I get in my car and drive by all your hang outs praying I will see your truck and at least know you are still alive.  I search until dark.  My phone rings, my heart jumps, oh  God please let that be Matt.  It’s Ray.  I’ve been so frantic I never looked at the time.  Where are you, he asks.  I’ll explain when I get home.  Too much to say and I am barely holding onto my sanity.

I’m shaking as Ray tells me to calm down and breathe.  I grab the letter and tell him to read.  He like me is in shock.  Seriously, they think pushing pills is ok.  I can’t believe it either.  I tell him what happened and that I’m so scared.  You have not answered my calls or texts and are no where to be found.  I imagine the worst.  I can’t stop pacing and crying.  Your phone going straight to voice mail with the message that has been playing all day.  No more space for my pleading for you to come home.

I call out for the morning.  There is no way I could keep my head clear enough to save a critical baby.  Your addiction has seeped so deeply into my life that I become crippled with hopelessness.  I replay all of it from the very beginning.  Your addiction movie etched into my brain.  Still trying to figure out the grip the demons have on your soul.  You have lost so much and yet you continue to let the drugs steal your life away and impact me to the core.  I will never understand how or why this happened to us.  I look at your smiling face and question every decision made.  I was the greatest enabler.  I loved you so much and wanted such a better life for you.  Always fixing you and saving you from yourself was taking it’s toll on me.  So here we go again.  The roller coaster ride.  I rode it up thinking I once again saved the day and now I’m stuck on the downward spiral not knowing how this will end.  God, I wish I was stronger.  I wish I was one of those moms that could just let go but every fiber of my being knew I would never give up on you.

I stayed on the couch that night.  I knew It would be a restless night and Ray had to work in the morning.  So as we’ve done so many nights before, the pups and I curl up and wait for a sign from you.  My phone is by my ear.  One eye opening constantly checking.  I look at all the texts I’ve sent to see if you read them  Nothing, nothing, nothing.  This is crazy I think.  I get up and grab a bottle of wine.  Hoping to calm my raw nerves.  The dogs follow sensing my stress.  Wine for me biscuits for them.  I sit in the dark and remember the conversations we’ve had about my wine and your drugs.  Hey Mom, you’re no better than me.  You drink.  Every night you have a glass of wine.  So really you’re just as bad.  Really Matt.  Let’s make a deal.  I won’t have my glass of wine if you don’t take your pills.  Well, we all know how that worked out don’t we.  I could feel the wine warming my soul and letting my beat up body and mind start to relax.  My muscles were finally unknotting and I could feel much needed sleep coming.  Please God, let him be ok was my last thought before sleep overcame my frantic mind.

The sun shining on my face and the sound of Ray in the shower wake me.  God, I was so sore but all I could think of was you.  Checking my phone again, nothing.  Ray greets me with a kiss.  His eyes showing his pity for me and what I live with because of your addiction.  He doesn’t even ask what I’m doing today he knows.  Coffee and a shower and I’m in my car again.  Repeat from last night. I Drive by every place I know you frequent and some places I just take a chance.  Still no luck.  Hours pass and I feel the dread creeping into my mind.  I keep reliving our fight.  Beating myself up for causing another rift between us.  I miss us.  I want a do over and go back before the demons came knowing what I do now.  Life the way it should be, not the way it is.  I give up and go home.  Grab the leashes and walk.  They are the only ones who listen without offering an opinion.  I can say the same things over and over and they just look at me with knowing eyes.  Constantly supporting as if to say It will be ok mom.  He will be back.

Night falls and still no sign or call.  Now I’m calling my friends in the ER.   Hey, by any chance have there been any accidents or admits for drug abuse.  I take a breath and call my friend the detective.  I tell him what’s happened.  He calms me and reassures me he will keep an eye out.   There is nothing more I can do.  I am defeated by your demons.  They won, just like the laughter I would hear in my head.  They have you and I don’t.   My phone breaks the silence and brings me back to reality.  I do not recognize the number.  Excuse me a voice I do not know says, are you Matt’s mom.  Oh God,  this is it.  The call.  My heart now beating so loud It’s the only sound I hear.  My hand is shaking.  I grab the counter.  Yes, yes, I am.  Please is he ok.  Oh God, please.  He’s with me.  He was in the parking lot of our NA meeting and he is high.  I drove him to Meadow Wood and I’m getting him admitted.  Can you come.  Oh dear God,  I’m shaking and sobbing grabbing my keys and run right into Ray as he’s walking in the door.  He grabs my keys.  Between sobs I tell him you are safe and I must go.  I’m driving.  You will get killed.  I sob all the way holding myself as the sobs of relief rack my body.  My brain screaming he is alive.  Thank you sweet Jesus.  We pull up and you are standing between two of the most beautiful men I have ever seen.  I run to you and wrap you in my arms.  All the grief and anger forgotten.  Matt, I’m so sorry.  Please forgive me.  You look at me as tears run down your face.  Sorry mom, you smile that cocky smile that I love so much.  It’s ok, Matt.  It will be ok.  You are taken back to be admitted.  I dissolve in Rays arms.  The sobs are now of relief.  Ray drives your truck and I drive mine.  No music just quiet prayer.  Thank you sweet Jesus for saving my precious child.  Please guide me in how to be an addicts mother.  I pull up behind Ray.   Your truck back in the driveway.  You in a safe place.   All is well in my world tonight.  I look at the stars and whisper a thank you……

 

 

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…..

 

I Spy, You Lie, I Try to Save You…

IMG_0679Matt.   This is exactly what I meant by riding the roller coaster of your addiction.  Here I am thinking we are on the upswing of life.  You are working, being productive and I am out with friends celebrating my birthday.    I promised no Matt talk tonight as I come to realize your addiction monopolizes all my conversations.  My friends actually made me promise No Matt Talk tonight knowing how your addiction has overtaken my life.  We are happy, celebrating life between close friends when my cell rings.  I look and see it is you.  My friends send warning signs with their eyes.  Don’t they tell me,  just this once don’t.  I can’t help myself.  They have no idea what it’s like to have an addicted son.  One phone call can be the difference between life and crisis.  I smile and grab my phone apologizing as I walk outside.  Matt, what’s up.  I’m out for my birthday.  Mom,  oh God, I hear it in your voice.  My throat automatically tightens as I listen to the sadness in your voice.  Mom, I lost my job.  I hear your brokenness and the tears form in my eyes.  I turn away from the window hiding my grief from the group that moments ago was full of laughter.  What happened.  I don’t know.  I thought I was doing good.  My boss came to me when I was leaving and told me not to come back.  He said he was sorry but they have to let me go.  Oh Matt, I’m so sorry.  It will be ok.  We will figure something out.  I will be home soon.

I return to the table.  I try to pretend things are fine.  My eyes tell a different story.  I can’t stop the tears.  My friends try to be supportive but are upset that once again you have interfered with my happiness.  The party is over. Like someone threw a bucket of water on the bride.  I try to say I’m sorry.   I can feel the atmosphere change.  The roller coaster now on it’s downward spiral with me trapped in a seat.  I can’t stop my reaction as I cry all the way home.  Ray is quiet.  I can hear his thoughts.  We told you not to answer.  What were you thinking.  Every call from Matt was usually a problem dumped in your lap.  Just once we wanted a normal night.  Just once.

We are greeted by your glassy eyes.  Sorry Mom, didn’t mean to wreck your birthday.  You hand me a card and give me a hug.  My heart breaks for you.  We both had such high hopes.  Dreaming of you having your own place, meeting someone nice, a normal life.  Now the crash of reality hit again.  We are both reeling from the news.  We sit.  I notice your thoughts are slow, your words carefully chosen.  I observe your addiction and wonder if this was how you presented at work.  Matt, what happened.  I don’t know Mom.  Matt what did you take.  Nothing.  you have my f***ing pills.  You haven’t been to happy about passing them out.  WTH Mom, why do you always start about the pills.   Hey Matt, go look in the mirror.  See what I see.  Hear what I hear.  For God sakes couldn’t you stay clean for eight hours.  WTH is wrong with you.  Hey,  Screw you Mom.  You slam out of the room and go downstairs.  Well, my brain says.  Happy F***ing birthday to you….

I wake the next day.  You won’t talk to me.  Ok buddy,  I’m done asking you.  I grab my keys and leave.  I have your pills in my pocket.  I’m not trusting you alone in an empty house with a bottle of pills.  I drive very carefully.  All I need is to get pulled over with a bottle of drugs, label ripped off.  Bye, bye nursing license.

I pull in the parking lot of your now X employer.  I walk to the customer service desk and ring the bell.  A kid looking like he just got out of diapers answers my call.  Is this who you are replaced with my mind is saying as I try to keep my thought from  flying out of my mouth.  Hi.  I’m looking for Matt.  He was so great in helping me last week I wanted to tell him in person.   Oh, the stoned guy.  What, what do you mean.  Lady, he would come in stoned.  Customers complained everyday.  He had trouble working the computer and would disappear.  You must have caught him on a good day.  He laughed and I muffled a scream.  I will kill you.  Where are you getting the drugs.  I was pissed beyond belief.  In my mind I was strangling you.  Hey Lady.  His voice brought me back to reality.  He got fired.

I drive home in a fury.  Trying to remember the pills in my pocket.  Hell officer arrest me.  Going to jail would be better than living my life.  I’m almost home when I see you drive past me.  You are looking straight ahead.  You look right past me.  Well I’ll be damn.  I turn my car around and start to follow.  I grab a ball cap from my back seat and pull my hair up.  I stay two cars behind.  I scoot down so if by any chance you look you will not see me.  I’m a mom on a mission.  A spy guy.  I’ve watched enough TV to know how to follow somebody.  I am laughing to myself.  Dear God, this is what my life has come to, spying on my adult addict.

You turn into a small parking lot.  I go straight.  I give you time to go wherever you are going before I pounce.   I find your truck and park in the next lot.  Cute little townhouses.  The Perfect hiding place for pill pushers.  I pull my hat down and start looking at the brightly colored doors.  Ahhh, I think I found a winner.  Delaware Pain Management right there on the sweet little door.  My heart is pounding.  My brain is screaming.  It’s now or never.  I open the door.  I am greeted by glassy eyes.  All shapes and sizes.  All waiting for their fix.  Holy sh** my heart is so loud I can count my pulse in my ears.  I grab an empty seat and sit.  Trying to slow my breathing, stop the squeezing in my throat and the pounding of my broken heart.  This room is full of you.  Addicts.  All waiting for their monthly supply of demons.  How can this be.  Pill pushers in white coats making a living off people in pain.  I try not to look suspicious.  I’m the only one in the room not slouched in my seat.  I observe their behavior and try to fit in.  The woman next to me gives me a broken tooth smile.  Honey, what ya here for.  I hurt my back and these docs make me feel wonderful.  I come as soon as my welfare check comes.  She leans on me and tells me a secret.  Cash only she says.  I am trying to swallow the bile that is building in my throat.  My plan was to confront you but now I need to get out to get air.  I’m so lost in my own sorrow I don’t hear the door open.  You are standing there staring at me with such disbelief, such hate that I want to dissolve into the air.  You run out the door.  I see the scripts.  I follow you.  We struggle.  I’m jumping in the air trying to get those scripts away from you.  I want names and drug amounts.  I will fight you to the death.  I punch you in the face.  I grab the scripts and run to my car.  I’m breathless, sweating and ready to puke.  My doors lock as I peel out of the lot.  You give me the finger as I speed by.  I roll down my window.  I Love you Matt.

I’m driving and sobbing and laughing all at once.  Holy sh**,  Here we were two adults duking it out in the parking lot of drug pushing doctors.  Dear God, don’t let me show up on Action News or in a U Tube video.  What a mother will do to save her son.   I can’t stop the hysterical laughter.  I am out of control.  Grief, stress, anger and frustration all wrapped up in loud uncontrolled sobs.  I love you Matt.  I will fight you to save you.  I will never give up the fight.  You can hate me forever as long as you live.

I get home.  You aren’t here.  I run upstairs and copy your scripts.  Names and prescriber numbers.  Drugs and doses.  Everything I need to report the devils who dole out the demons.  I feel like the cat who stole the canary.  I was the coolest chick.  The slick mom, the sleuth.  I was so busy thinking about how smart I was that I forgot how smart you were.  I didn’t allow myself to hear the laughter.  Good try Mom.  You won this time but he is ours.  We will be back and you will be beat.  The sun went down, the room grew dark, my laughing turned to sobbing….

Drugs, Jobs and Roller Coaster Rides

 IMG_0711

Matt,  Holy shit, holy shit, I am doing the happy dance.  Hugging you and jumping for joy.  I get a grip and look at your face.  Matt, what’s wrong, this is the best news ever.  You will be doing the work you love, making real money and having a sense of pride.  I’m still not getting it.  You look like you just received the worst news instead of this great news.  You grab my shoulders holding me still.  Your eyes bore into mine.  Mom, I have to take a drug test…Ok, so take it.  Oh God Matt, I still lived in my little world of denial.  I figured that since I was handling your pills and being very stingy with  how many you got that our problem was under control.  I foolishly thought I’d fixed you again.  I had no clue as to the many sources you had and believed that because you weren’t bugging me for them that you realized you really didn’t need them.  Stupid, stupid me.

Days go by and your still evasive when I ask you about the job.  Mom, I’m waiting.  Waiting for what.  It was then that it struck me.  You were lying again.  I’d overheard you on the phone asking about passing a piss test.  Yes Matt, I did pretend to not notice you on the phone but my ears were on high alert as I tried to learn as much about who you were hanging with while pretending to be looking for my phone or whatever would pop into my mind when I saw you sneaking around talking in whispers.  Passing a piss test.  Ugh, so gross your slang.  Couldn’t you just say drug or pee test, nope had to use words that conjured up images in my mind that I’d rather not think about.  I guess my education regarding the slang used by addicts was in full swing.  Thank you Google.  I was educating myself and was amazed at the stuff posted on the internet.  I guess if you could learn how to build a bomb you could certainly find out how to pass a piss test.

So you could pick up a detox kit from GNC.  Well, I’ll be damn.  I foolishly thought they were a health food store.  The jokes on me.  Addicts are beyond smart.  I saw this sitting on your dresser when I was snooping or working out in your space.  However you want to look at it you left it out and I found it.  I, your naive mom just couldn’t believe what you were going to do.  Take a chance on this stupid kit instead of not using.  So it’s the big day.  You leave the house with this big grin, like you were the cat that swallowed the canary.  I decided to play along.  Good luck.  you got this, giving you a hug and letting you go.  Oh God,  wouldn’t it be easier to just stop then to play all these games.

I watch your car leave the neighborhood before I begin my daily search.  Hoping to find your source of these demon pills.  You were fox sly and tore the labels so I had no idea where your pill pushers were located.   You are back way too quick and way too happy.   Hey, how did it go.  No worries Mom.  I’ll start as soon as my results are back.  A week passes, nothing.  No call, nothing.  I’m in a panic and you don’t care.  Matt, call. You should be starting by now.  Have you heard anything.  I come home from work everyday and find you way too comfortable sitting in front of the TV.  Matt,  WTH.  What is going on.  Mom, get off my back.  I grab your phone and look up the number.  I call.  You failed and you knew.  I am ready to explode.  Matt, why. I can’t even talk as I feel my body fall apart.  The aftershock of your addiction once again kicking me in my gut.  My high hopes for you shot out of the sky and all you can say is get off your back.  I’ve always compared being your mom to riding a very fast, very high roller coaster.  The ride left me breathless, heart pounding and feeling very unsettled.  Never knowing from one day to the next where we were heading and how we would land.  Once again, my hopes for a normal life shattered while you look at me with disgust.

Matt,  this was the start of our ride.  You finally got a job as a service writer.  A job using your brain and not your back.  Only by the grace of God passing the infamous piss test.   You smelled a lot like vinegar for days but by now I didn’t care if you had to eat dog crap.  Anything that worked to get you a job.  I remember making your lunch, yeah I know, just like when you were in school.  That’s how it felt.  My boy getting back into the world.  Having a purpose instead of planting yourself on the couch for the day.  I was as happy as I could be.  Pretending that we were finally on the road to normal.  I allowed myself to ignore the slowness in your speech.  You glazed eyes.  Your excuse that you were just getting used to working again.  Matt, are you stoned.  Really Mom.  You would look at me with such hate.  I chose to stay in my little world slapping away those doubts that surfaced.  Stop, I would tell my brain.  He’s just tired.  He’s been sleeping in and hanging out and now he has a time clock.  Eight hour days.  Cut him a break my heart would cry.  My brain would send out warnings.  Matt, Mom.  Stop.  I’m tired.  My back hurts.  I can’t sleep. I’m being watched.  Matt. Please stop.  Mom, get off my back.  Matt, we are going out for my birthday.  I’ve left dinner in the oven.  We won’t be long.  Mom, I got fired.

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2025 Mother's Heartbreak

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑