Give Me Back My Son

ƛ͙ Ɗ͙ƛ͙Ƴ͙ Ɩ͙Ɲ͙ Ƭ͙Ӈ͙Є͙ LƖ͙Ƒ͙Є͙

Sunday: I’m at work, passing medications– the irony. The very thing that started this nightmare into hell.

10:15 text- “Hey mom, is there any way you could help me out? I don’t get paid until tomorrow and I borrowed $100 from a friend to cover rent.

10:16 “Hi son, nice to hear from you. I could buy you some food.

10:18 “I need to pay him
back. Please, I haven’t asked for anything for a long time.

10:19 “I could possibly pay some on your rent.

11:20 missed call
11:22 missed call
10:39 “I’m at work I can’t talk.
10:39.5 “Sorry mom

12:30 “Mom this guy is wanting his money back faster than I can get it.

12:40 “Mom I promise I’ll pay you back tomorrow

2:30. “Mom I’m working my ass off. I just cant’ get ahead. Please? I only need $60 now. $40 for him $20 for food.

4 pm. Get home, start dinner, laundry.
6 pm relax in front of tv
8 pm get ready for bed
9 pm lie in bed grateful for no text, wondering if he’s beaten up.

10:30 text: “Mom I only need $40 now. Forget the food. I don’t need to eat. I’m begging you.

Sigh. Look over to make sure my husband is asleep.

Breathe…..

Detach, “they” say.
Don’t enable.
Block him.
Live your life
He has to hit “Rock bottom”

Rock Bottom?
The kid has lost everything. His Business, his livelihood, brand new house, all his equipment, over 20 cars, his family. His 2 precious kids.
He’s practically homeless with only the clothes on his back.
He’s also lost over 100 lbs. 😥
Rock bottom?

God help me
I pick up my phone, I proceed to do exactly the opposite of what my daughter and I had decided in regards to texting.
My son is severe ADD and admitted he only reads the first few words of any message.

Our Motto had become

sʜᴏʀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ sᴡᴇᴇᴛ

I proceeded to write out a Nar- anon friendly message about how I would love to help but I can’t, how I know he can have a better life & I’m willing to do anything to make that happen EXCEPT keeping him in that cycle of desperation. I said today’s $40 or $60 will be needed tomorrow and again and again and that he has the capability to support himself like before and as soon as he’s ready to make a change I will help him all I can….

Then I put his messages on ignore and put my phone away.

VƗØŁΔ!

2am. I SLEPT! That long!. Looked at phone. No messages in the ignore file.
Good..he didn’t even try to beg.

6 am. I SLEPT! Looked at phone. No missed calls. No new message in ignore file.

7 am. Coffee. Check Social media. Do pow wow aroebics warm up.

9 am order more addiction books off Amazon.
Noon. Clean. Laundry. Rake leaves.

2 pm watch Netflix, write article for my new blog about how to deal with an addict child- ya know? Since I had this all down pat…

No messages in ignore file.

6 pm dinner. Visit with youngest child, tv, write, read. No messages in ignore file

9 pm bed. Wow this is really working. Just tell them how it is and they mind! Maybe he’ll choose recovery! Tomorrow even!

11 pm. No messages in ignore file. Realize it’s been 24 hrs since he’s been on online.

12 pm. Realize that he didn’t even read my long message! He’s been offline now for 25 hours,!
Omg. What if that guy came RIGHT AFTER he sent that last pleading message & threatened him to pay $$ or pay with his life!

Suddenly I get the impression to call the hospital. I’ve never actually done that before. This must be a revelation that he’s there!
I call the hospital and ask if they have anyone in there without ID who’s beaten up or overdosed. Secretary says “We have 2 without ID. Let me transfer you to the Emergency room answering machine”.

2? A fight? He got In a fight with the dealer/ friend/ rent borrower!
I give my description of him to the ER answering machine.
I turn my phone volume all the way up. Roll over.

1 pm: Check phone. Nothing.
Roll over.

1:15 :Check phone.

1:30: check phone. Missed Call!!! I check my voicemail. A nice asian lady reports that no one fitting that description is there- goodbye.

My heart sinks. It’s been 26 1/2 hours since he’s been online.
I break down and check the booking reports.
No arrest.

2:30 am.Roll over. Try to sleep. Hear a sound. Get up. it’s my daughter going to work. Back to bed.

3:30 Hear another sound. Omg. What if they dropped his body off here since my address is listed as his and they wanted to show me a lesson.

6 pm awake! I slept! But with actual visions of him in a room in a chair with his hands tied behind his back.

8:30 am send text to son:
I’m so sorry – I didn’t know your life was in danger.

Please! please! Someone😭 save my son!
Followed by 5 texts begging him to be ok.

9:30 am Him: “Omg I don’t have a phone off of wifi and that message u sent did it. Try starting from nothing with no help. I should have known better than to ask anyone for help as far as everything else. I’m not going to be reachable anymore because they have now waved my right to a trial so with an attorney I would have no fellonyz now I’m a 6 time convicted felon on the run with a mandatory 5 years- I’m screwed”

Me : Thank God you’re alive.

Him. Omg that’s absolutely crazy why would I not be alive? Stop watching so many movies”

9:38 am: I collapse on the couch feeling the fullness of my tears well up behind my eyeballs in a raging flurry of sadness mixed with relief that today isn’t MY DAY for THE phone call. I hear a deep exhausting gutterall cry coming from a body that thought it knew how to handle this stress by now. The realization that I just spent another night in worry and fear ( for nothing! Which I’m,? Glad buttt….and it sounds like there’s more ahead.

Knowing that today will now be a wash with my emotions completing thrashed, the tears spill out over my flustered angry relieved face. I cover myself with my weighted blanket, feeling not only the tiny beads of lead on me, but the entire weight of the world.

I realize I have to go to work for 8 hrs tonight. I immediately send out a text to 18 people to see if they’ll cover me so I can drown in my own misery of torture.

One by one the refusals came pouring in. They need to car pool kids, their husbands are working. I want to scream: “GO AHEAD live your normal lives! My son was just dead, for 30 hours, tortured in a room or laying in a hospital bed as a John Doe, in jail on one of his warrants. But it’s ok. I’ll go to work and pretend that I have a normal life with normal problems and a son who’s happy and healthy taking care of his obligations making me proud again.

Damn
heroin,

Damn
addiction.

Damn
Purdue…

Damn whoever else I can blame.