You say it's your birthday...

Sorry I haven't posted all week. I am happy to say this is not a result of any new drama. Just a busy week at work. I work on a fiscal year that closes tomorrow and therefore this is my hell week.

Last Sunday was my 39th birthday. Thank you Tab for putting up the birthday props!! I love you girl!!! This was probably the nicest birthday celebration weekend that I ever had. I guess when you do not expect too much, it exceeds your expectations!! Last Friday I went out for dinner with a great friend of mine from my old job. She is probably about 14 years older than me, but she is like a sister to me. She lost her brother to Pancreatic Cancer almost 20 years ago so she understands what I have been going through with my Dad the last few years. Her husband, her senior by another 14 years is also currently dying of cancer. Liver Cancer. He is an alcoholic and the abuse to his body is not helping his cause. We are able to speak freely to each other regarding our feelings of her husband and my Dad dying and that is just nice. Refreshing. We do not have to sugar coat it and we can laugh and make jokes about our situations.

Saturday night a few of my gurlies took me into Manhattan for dinner and a show. It was an audience participation show, it was a faux prom, and it was a blast. We laughed and danced all night. I haven't done that in years. My body felt it the next day, though. BIG TIME. Sunday, my real birthday, 33 people from my family, cousins, aunt and uncle and the cousins kids, my mom, La Petit and myself, went to a Mets game. It was coincidence that it landed on my birthday, I am an Yankee fan, but we had a blast. How nice to see all of my cousins, grown with kids of our own, and some of the grown cousins kids even have kids now. It is nice to have family. We wrapped up the day with a BBQ back at my parents. I am getting along much better with my mom these days and it was just a perfect weekend. The only negative part of it was that the Prince did not show up for my BBQ. It hurt me deeply. When I saw him Monday night briefly he said he went out instead and then tried to backtrack and say he thought I would be at the Met game until late that evening even though I told him that morning we were having a BBQ at around 6:30.

I did not freak out, I barely let him see how hurt I was. I just said, Oh. OK. And I let it go. I am very sad at the way our relationship is going. We barely have one at all. He doesn't call me and I don't call him. Maybe just once or twice a week. He is doing his own thing, I haven't gotten any reports from my in laws regarding him drinking or drugging. So I can assume he is behaving. I can only pray. I guess we will just have to give it some time until we are both comfortable with the roles we are going to play in each others lives. I am just not sure what that is going to be at this point. I think I am afraid to get too close to him again for fear of him lying to me and him drinking and drugging. I am trying to accept him for who he is and then I guess the rest will just come naturally?

So maybe I will throw out a little gratitude...

• Finding out that I have 2.5 unused vacation days that will give me a 4.5 day weekend starting at 1 o'clock this afternoon
• Spending the last birthday of my 30s with my friends and family and really feeling the love
• La Petit actually skipping onto his camp bus this morning on his way to his first day of camp, he is still such a sweet innocent little thing
• Blogger buddies who share their advice, love and experience with me, it really gets me threw the days and it still amazes me how close to you all I feel
• Friends and family leaving me voice mails singing Happy Birthday, something bout that just brings a big old grin to my face
• The Prince seems to be holding it together, just for today
• The ability to feel gratitude and the means to express it

Have a great day y'all!

Erase myselff, and let go of what I've done...

La Petit "graduated" from the sixth grade yesterday. There was a moving up ceremony and a dance last night to celebrate this milestone. He has been expressing his unhappiness with my decision to sell the house and move to a different neighborhood lately. We moved to this neighborhood when the Prince was the exact same age. We previously lived in a neighborhood that was far more privileged than where we live now. Most of the children were home with nannies while the Dads were out performing surgery and the Moms were getting nose jobs and tennis lessons. It was also a very competitive district and I did not think the Prince would find success there. I thought we would be better off in a neighborhood with people who were more socio-economically in line with us.

We are working people, we do well, we do not want for much, but we aren't wiping our arses with hundred dollar bills either. I have a tendency to need change and lots of it, as though I am chasing something that seems to keep slipping through my fingers, so I then need to move on and look for it somewhere else. This move will be different (if I ever sell my house that is). It will mark the end of my marriage and the beginning of a new life for La Petit and I. It is not possible for me to stay in the house we own now on my own. So staying in the house is not an option for me. I also have a long, traffic filled commute to get to my job so logistically it will greatly improve the quality of my life to move to the northern side of this island we call home.

La Petit is very sad about this. I feel guilt and trepidation about moving him. My town is large and accessibility to drugs and alcohol for the local teens is as simple as walking into the bathroom in the middle school. I know that drugs are a problem everywhere. But I KNOW first hand what goes on in this town, how the teachers covered up fro my Prince, how the police just tell the kids to dump their pot and grind it into the dirt when the kids are caught with it, how our local park, which is heavily wooded is a paradise for the local kids to hang out and get drunk, high and laid till all hours of the night. We have a unique last name and I do not want the Princes reputation to precede his younger brother. My son was notorious in this town. The big stoner, the druggie, if you need something, just call the Prince, he can tell you where to get it, etc. etc.

So although I feel as though I am once again running from my life, I feel the need to change the environment, to get away from the painful memories that haunt me at every corner of this town. I want to be invisible again, anonymous. I want La Petit to start fresh and to embrace a new life for us. But what if it hurts him? What if it makes him resentful and angry? What is he suppresses that anger and it grows into a rage and he can not identify that rage and then he turns to drugs and alcohol to silence that rage and pain and to numb it all out and shut off his feelings? What if one day in the near future I have to let this one go too? What will I have left?

Hold on, it's better than you think...

I have to really say thank you to all of my blogger buddies for being there and really listening and really caring about me. I can not express how much it and all of you have come to mean to me. Its truly a beautiful thing, this online bond we have all developed, and I have truly grown to love you all. It means even more, because each of you can relate to my situation from one point of view or another, some of you are in recovery, some are parents of addicts like myself, and some have other family experiences that connect us. The rest of the world, it has been my experience, just don't get it. Seriously, while I appreciate some of the advice my "normie" friends have offered me, trust me when I tell you, sitting down to dinner as a family every night is not going to get my son to stay clean.

To give you a brief update, the Prince and I have still not spoken since Fathers day. His grandparents and father spoke to him at length on Tuesday evening, and basically, from what I can drag out of these, strange, secretive, communication-challenged people, is that they laid down the guidelines. No more drinking and/or drugging. Period. Not if he wants to continue to live under their roof. It was also explained to him that he is still a very, very long way from being welcomed back into living in my home. I do not believe he is working a program although he tells his grandmother he is going to meetings. I am letting it go. I have basically let him go. This is how it has to be. I am not going to say it doesn't hurt like hell. But I know this has to be done. For my own sanity. I am not ready to speak to him yet, because I am not sure I can do so without reacting. When I am ready, I will call him and hopefully we can learn to have a relationship that will be loving without me trying to make decisions for him, or me being angry when he doesn't do what I want him to do.

I need to be a little honest here, I am secretly thinking deep in my soul, that if I don not see or speak to him, that he will feel guilty and make the right decisions. I know this is ridiculous, and it shows I still have ALOT of work to do on myself. In fact, in reality I am sure the opposite is true. When he was using, and he was in really bad shape, and I was taking him to court and things were just so awful and he was just so sick, we were having a huge fight, police were called, CPS got involved shortly thereafter because it got physical between the Prince and his father, and he was crying. He was begging me to just give up, to just let him do his thing, and I could not imagine a day would ever come that I would be capable of doing such a thing. Well, let me clarify that, I am NOT giving up on him, I will NEVER give up on him, but I need to distance myself from him for now. So maybe he is glad that I am finally giving him some space, giving him enough of the proverbial rope. I just pray he doesn't hang himself with it.

But if he does, I hope I can remember that it was his decision. Not mine, I am finally going to let him own this.

Step one, he says we need to talk...

So, I am writing this from home, on the laptop, which I am terrible at typing on. So please forgive any major typos or errors.

*****EXPLICIT LANGUAGE WARNING*****

If the over use or abuse of the F word offend you... please stop reading now, cause I am in a vicious vile mood...

Ok, so now that the warnings are out of the way, let me just say this. MOTHERFUCKER. I feel as though the last 2 years of my life and my time and my money been pissed away in vain. I have not spoken to the Prince since Sunday. He is actively drinking and I am quit sure he is using again as well. My guess is weed, and I am almost certain he is using coke again.

I mean, WHAT THE FUCK. Seriously. Is this kid on a suicide mission or what??? He has been out of rehab for 11 days. He has come home stumbling drunk at a minimum of 2 of those days. (yes, Tab, my soul sister we are living parallel lives) The amount of money he has gone through leads me to believe he is using again. My in laws called us over for a " family meeting" tonight, due to his behavior to set boundaries or make decisions. I refused to go. If this fucking kid wants to kill himself, then do not let me stand in his f-ing way. Seriously. i am so trying to let go and work a program, but how exactly am I supposed to do that when every time I am supposed to go to a meeting, he fucks up and I am either expected to come clean it up or I need to be home to take care of La Petit. To top it off, the AH goes to his parents, spends 3 hours there, during which time I find a bottle of vodka and a bunch of empties hidden under his bed and when he gets home he has little or nothing to say about what was discussed, only that my kid is a fuck up, and he cant wait till he ends up in jail so he doesn't have to deal.

So, really, someone, please enlighten me. What the Fuck do I do now??? I can't save this kid, I get this now. But I cant take a fucking bat to his skull either. I am just so fucking done, someone, please stick a fork in me. I am just so disappointed. I am just so sad. i just want it to stop. Really, I get it, I am a bad mom. I have been tried and convicted.

They wannna make me go to rehab, I say noo. no. no...

Today, at exactly 9:42 a.m. my Prince turned 18 years old.

Seriously. My Prince is 18.

How exactly is it possible that I am old enough to be the mother of someone who is old enough to fight for his country, buy cigarettes, and play lotto, but he can not legally buy a beer; yet he has already spent close to the last 2 years of his life in rehab, and he attends both AA and NA meetings???

There is something seriously wrong with this world.

So I held my head up high, hiding hate that burns inside...

The theme of my blog to date has mostly been about my journey of being the mother of a drug addicted/alcoholic son. This has also been the main focus of my life for the last few years. I am finally embracing the twelve steps of al-anon in order to improve the quality of my own life. I do not expect it to be easy, as I have made alot of my own mistakes and continue the cycle of repeating them over and over again. I have also come to learn that I am classically codependent. I am guessing that this will come as no surprise to any of you.

Although the Prince has been all consuming in my life, I have other alcoholics in my life whose disease I have been able to detach from completely and not allow to affect my well being, at least not as deeply as the Prince has. My husband, AH, is an active raging alcoholic. We still live in the same home, but have had separate bedrooms for many many years now. We are currently in the process of selling our home and once it is sold, we will dissolve our marriage and go our separate ways. This is something I should have done many, many years ago, but I have lacked the courage to do so for a million different reasons.

The love and respect has gone out of our marriage a very long time ago. He has never been there for me and he is certainly not there for his children. He proves this just a little more each day. Yet I still find it sad to end it. I live in fear of ending up alone although realistically, I could not be more alone in my life now if I tried. I guess now that the Prince is at least attempting or pretending to attempt to deal with his recovery and I am letting it go a little more with each day, it is forcing me to face my own demons.

I assume it is classic codependent behavior to stay in a relationship that stopped working years ago. I guess it is classic alcoholic behavior that would allow AH to stay with me, knowing it doesn't work, and knowing how I feel. He just locks himself in his room downstairs and drinks and watches TV and shut himself off from La Petit and I at around 8 pm every night and it is just so sad to me. He expects his son to abstain yet he refuses to do so himself.

So my goal for the summer is to begin to learn to love myself and believe that I am worthy of love from another human being and I can still have a fulfilling life and future even though I am now just about pushing forty. This scares me more than I care to admit.

Begging.... serenity.... now, please.

Sometimes I hear my voice, and its been here, silent all these years...

Is it possible that those of us that are affected most by the addiction and alcoholism of the ones we love the deepest can hit OUR bottom also?? That just as an addict must hit their bottom before they are ready to seek help, to admit their powerlessness, that we, their biggest fans, their biggest supporters must also hit our bottom to realize and accept our powerlessness?

Well, my dear blogger buddies, I believe I have hit that bottom with my beloved Prince. I have been doing a lot of reading and praying. I had a really good day at work yesterday. I felt confident in myself for the first time in a long time. I hold a fairly responsible position and much of the last few years, I have felt like a fraud, going through the motions, floundering. Well something changed in me yesterday and the old Kel was back. I remember how to be a professional. How to handle my authority and how to get my job done in the manner in which I am expected to perform it, and I realized I had not been found out for the fraud I thought I was, so maybe I was not a complete fraud after all.

Last night the Prince was to attend an NA meeting. I had decided I was not going to go with him, and I was not going to call him to remind him. Well, when 8:30 came and went and I did not hear from him, I knew he wasn't going. Against my better judgement, I called his cell phone and he was out. He told me that he has decided that he is going to go to AA instead of NA, that NA wasn't for him, and he was going to go AA with a new friend. Just last week he told me that NA was the best thing for him, and it was what he needed to keep him clean. Same old manipulations and lies. Tell Mommy what she wants to hear. I told him that as far as I am concerned, his sobriety has not been a priority and I am washing my hands of it. I love him, but I can not lose any more sleep over this, I can not go back to being the person I was when he was actively using. I informed him that he should prepare to pay the co-payments for the shrink, he can continue to use my insurance, but I was no longer taking responsibility for his sobriety. Financial or otherwise. I am done. I am letting go. Maybe not in the loving way I had hoped to do it... but I am letting go nonetheless.

Don't lean on me man, cause you can't afford the ticket...

I am currently reading Codependent No More, by Melody Beattie, and basically, I could have been the model for the book. I am hoping to apply some of the principles I am learning to my life. I really need to master this Letting Go thing.

So I did not make it to a meeting last night after all. The Prince had an NA meeting and I had promised myself that I would start focusing on MY recovery, my well-being, and let HIM focus on his. So I was planning on going to my meeting and he would go to his. This was not an easy decision for me, because I live in fear that if I do not go with him, he will not go. More controlling, co-dependent behavior on my part. If he does not go, he does not go. I can not control this and I will not try any longer.

As I was getting dressed to got to Al-anon, the phone rang, it was my mother in law. She asked if I was going to meet them in front of the church for the meeting, and I said No. She started hesitating and sort of insisting that I go with him. I finally had to tell her to spit out whatever it was she had to say. She suspected the Prince had been drinking, that she smelled "something" but couldn't be sure. I told her to put him on the phone and I confronted him. He went into the denial routine and was very indignant. He hung up on me.

I asked AH to go to the meeting with him because I just wasn't up to this and he got very angry and started spewing how the Prince would be in jail in a year, and how he should just hit the streets now and how he would make sure he ran away if he went to the meeting. So, OK, no support there, I had to go. He was nasty to me when he saw me and told me he didn't want me o go to the meeting with him. Whatever. Its his recovery anyway, I don't think I belong there anymore. I stayed outside and spoke to my MIL for a little bit and when they came for the smoking break, he was really provocative and antagonistic, typical using behavior for him, he didn't look "right" to me. He started to try to block me from closing my car door, and I suggested that he might want to step away, as I was confident the 10-15 big burly guys standing around watching the exchange weren't going to be to receptive to his attacking me, and he finally backed off.

So I do not know if he used or drank or not. I hate that it has to be so confrontational. After reading dear Tabs post this morning, I at least commended her children's honesty, and I envy her ability to see past the moment, and detach with love. If the Prince is using again, and is caught, it will be his third strike and he will no longer be welcome to live at his grandparents home. He will have to make alternate arrangements for sleeping, showering, eating, and being chauffeured around town. I feel he is testing the waters, he doesn't his grandmother will do it to him. He is mistaken.

In a world full of people, only some want to fly. Isn't that crazy?

Thank you all for being so supportive of yesterdays sad post. I am just in kind a dark place.

The Prince is scaring me. I am having such a difficult time with letting him go. I feel as though the last year and a half have been wasted. He appears to be clean but he is pushing the limits. We are trying to set some boundaries for him, and he is being very resistant. He is starting to play his grandparents and us against each other. I have been pretty straight forward in my opinion that he does not and should not being hanging out every night, and every free moment.

As usual, his priorities are all F-ed up. He has his grandmother driving him all over the island at his whim, to hang out. She is always obliging. I wouldn't be. He doesn't even offer to contribute towards gas. And at $3.43 a gallon, he really should. He thinks his curfew should be later. He is hanging out with people I do not know or have never heard of. He is right back to where he was a few years ago. He just doesn't give a sh*t what anyone says. I know I am supposed to be taking it one day at a time. But I just can't do it. Seriously. That sick, sinking feeling is back with a vengeance.

I just called him and tried to talk to him. Of course it turns into an argument. I know my way of speaking to him doesn't help matters. I come off as angry and he goes on the defense. He seems to have the maturity level of a 13 year old. He just wants to live in the moment and have a good time. He was supposed to graduate from HS on June 24th, he is not going to as he is missing two classes. He has made no effort to find out what needs to be done in order to complete the requirements, and he seems to really care less. I want to help him, but how much is too much when it comes to helping our addicted children? Isn't there a point where he has to stand up and act like a man and stop taking from everyone and start taking responsibility for himself?

He doesn't worry about his future and he doesn't worry about his sobriety. He is confident that he will not relapse, yet it is more important to him to hang out than it is to get back into therapy or to attend meetings. He thinks it is Bullshit that he is expected to do these things.

Tonight I will go to an Al-anon meeting and try to get something out of it. Because, quite honestly, I feel as though I am going crazy. I can no longer hold the weight of the world on my shoulders. I really really wish things were different. I had this fantasy that when he completed the program things would be good, he would seek recovery and work a program, he would beat this, and I could breathe again.

In other news the Italians girlfriend is actively harassing me again via email. I mean, c'mon, seriously, move on. I know I have. I just don't know what to do about it. She is a sick woman.

And now some gratitude...

• Cool new Bermuda- like dress shorts from Old Navvy that I bought last night, today I am stylin!!
• Feeling the love from my blogger buddies
• I was able to teach my boss a little something about the business this morning that she didn't know
• The ability to not engage as this psycho chick continues to harass me
• A nice healthy salad for lunch today
• Hope for a much brighter future, and the realization that what will, be will be...

Love on you all!!

Where'd you go? I miss you so...

I have spent the past few says feeling haunted. The ghosts of my past and present, the good ones, the bad ones and the ugly ones. I spent Friday night with one of my younger nieces. She is in her early twenties. She had a hard life, she is the product of two parents who never should have been together or married. They were abusive to each other, alcohol, and I assume drugs. They ultimately divorced and neither of them seemed to realize that parenting their two young girls should be their priority, these girls have ultimately been on their own since their early teens. The older daughter ended up pregnant at 15, a beautiful bright young thing, who now has two children from two different fathers, living with an abusive, jealous, cheater. She does not have the means at this time to get herself out of this relationship. It just brought back to me the days of my youth, where alcohol was such an omnipresent force in my life, and the lives of all those related to me.

Saturday evening I took La Petit and his friend to TGIFs for dinner. While we waited for a table I found myself surrounded by young families. Young, smiling couples with toddlers. It made me yearn for a time in my life when my children were small and I was still filled with hope for a fulfilled life. No concept of what future awaited me. A life filled of sickness, drug and alcohol abuse all around me, unhappiness, dysfunction and adultery.

We had the puppy for the weekend and after dinner, AH and I sat out on the deck while the puppy ran around playing. Our conversation basically consisted of our, or more specifically my trepidation of how the Prince is going to respond to his new freedom since his "release" from his program. He is officially free, and all things considered, the weekend seemed to go OK, so far he seems to have remained clean and sober. He is steering clear of his old friends so far. He is seeing a new girl that I have not met yet. I am not thrilled with the way he is choosing to spend his time. He is back to "hanging out", with no particular destination. My humble opinion is that he should not be sitting around in parks all night with his friends, making out or whatever. I think this is setting him up for a relapse. But I am trying hard to keep this opinion to myself.

My mother called me yesterday and basically expressed her fear that my Dad seemed to be dying and that perhaps I should come for dinner to see him, and he was requesting my brother be there also. My father is a very sick man, and yes, statistically, he is not long for this world, but he had chemo last week and he is always very week and very ill after a treatment for a few days. Of course, in the event that I was wrong, I obliged the request. It is very sad to see my Dad. He has really withered away to nothing, and he is not so with it. He barely contributes to the conversations, and he loses his patience quickly.

AH and the Prince were both working, so it was just La Petit and I. My brother arrived shortly after us and he also came alone. It was strangely reminiscent of my younger years. It was bittersweet to sit outside just the four of us, a shadow of a family past. There is no running from time and this vibrant young family of years ago, has seen the painful effects of what the years can do to you. My father, sickness has left him but a fragment of the father of my youth, a powerful, strong man, the family patriarch, his voice alive with laughter. My brother, his long curly locks now very thin and mostly gray, diabetes has taken 3 of his toes and will ultimately probably take his leg, years of drug and alcohol abuse have dimmed the brightness of his eyes, and leathered his skin. My mother, just an older, tireder version of who she used to be. Self medicating the pain of watching the man she loves slowly deteriorate and die over the last 16 years, as she slowly drinks herself to death. And myself, sad to recall the easier, lighter days of my youth. Disappointed in what became of the grown up me and the loneliness I feel, and how much I miss that vibrant young family.

Waking up to find another day...

It seems the Prince and I are, (or really more the Prince) are about to enter a new, and very exciting and frightening stage in our lives. Tomorrow, he is exiting his program. He leaves there on a fairly positive note. Although he was unable to achieve many of the goals the program sets for the kids, he did manage to stay in there, and follow the rules. His classes are over tomorrow and he will turn 18 next Saturday. He has gone as far as he can go there and it is time he enters the real world.

When we started this phase of his recovery more than 15 months ago, I was scared, broken and hopeless. With each passing day of his recovery I looked forward to a time that my Prince would be well again. Not fully understanding this disease and the true depths of how immersed my eldest son was entrenched in it. Or perhaps I did fully understand the disease, and maybe needed to kid myself to get through those long painful first weeks.

As each week of his sobriety passed I gained strength and began to feel hopeful for the first time in a very long time. While I do not know what it feels like to be addicted to drugs and alcohol, I can not begin to explain to you how deeply, profoundly painful it is to be the mother of a child who is. When he first began his program, he was tasked with writing an essay describing his tenure with drug and alcohol use and abuse. He "accidentally" left it where I could find and of course I read it. It was a disturbing piece of literature, beginning with his abuse of the Ritalin he took to treat his attention deficit. Cigarette smoking, followed by marijuana, alcohol, cocaine, vicodin, inhalants, robotripping, triple cs, and crack cocaine (He also relapsed on heroin once). His spiral was fast and furious.

I am not a buzz kill or a hypocrite. I remember how much fun it was on a Friday night to drink with your friends, and how it felt to loose your inhibitions and laugh and have a good time. I never much cared for pot. I smoked it a bit in High School, but honestly it was peer pressure that sucked me in. By the time I was a senior I had already been over the pot smoking phase. I tried cocaine for the first time later that year, I liked it, but not enough to make a habit of. I dabbled with it socially for the next year or two, but again, I didn't like the way it made me feel and the sensation of wanting more when I did it. I started dating a guy who abused it. He used to ask me to drive him to some pretty shady neighborhoods to procure it, and I didn't like that scene one bit. More than one time he was ripped off, sold baby powder or baking soda instead of the real thing and our lives starting revolving around him buying coke. This was just not what I signed up for and I broke up with him. Somehow I am digressing here, as I tend to do when I am feeling too much stress. I guess what I am trying to say is that I was young and wild once too, but somehow, there but for the grace of G*d, I was not an addict.

During those early weeks of his recovery, I barely ate or slept. He would go to his program, come home, curl up in his bed and sleep for hours each day. His depression was palpable. Although he never showed any suicidal tendencies, I lived in fear each day of discovering him in that room dead. Then the self-mutilation started, intensified, and passed. Yet, slowly, he was coming back to us. He was spending more time with us. He was smiling and laughing and his eyes! Those beautiful eyes were clear again. My little Prince Charming was back again. And I cherished every moment as though it were the last, because I knew in my heart, that when it comes to addiction, any moment could be the last.

One of the biggest difficulties I faced was the pulling of my two sons. I am somewhat proud to say that I have raised two mommas boys. Or maybe this was my downfall. Neither of them have ever been close to their father, they both come to me for everything. They both share everything with me. They both command and demand my attention. The Prince was so fragile then, that he took up so much of my time. Looking back now, his behavior was manipulative and unacceptable. My behavior was overbearing and enabling. He used his sobriety as a weapon against me. Making statements such as if I didn't let him do this or that, he would get high. Look, if he wants to get high, he is going to get high. My actions or reactions do not cause it or control it, I know this now. But the fear. That, and my willingness to do anything to keep him sober.

I have come to count on his program as his lifeline. He hates it there, does nothing but bitch about the counselors, the program, the place itself, but he goes. But he followed the rules, he has maintained some short term sobriety, with a few slips, but he keeps getting back up. It worked for us.

We are now trying to figure out his aftercare plans. He has agreed to return to seeing his old shrink for his therapy. He will attend NA meetings to help maintain sobriety, he will work full time and finish his last two classes needed for graduation over the summer. He will reestablish a social life. Herein lies my concerns.

He talks the talk, but he doesn't walk the walk. He has been in enough programs to know importance of People Places and Things. I have gone to enough NA meetings with him to see there are plenty of younger guys working the program, staying clean. There are new kids he is meeting at his new job. People he has met without any association to his drug use. But he stills insists on maintaining a friendship with a kid he used to use with. He says it will not effect his sobriety, and he can handle it. Mind you, this man-boy has not been out of the house on his own for over a year, save the short few days he was on modified curfew and during those few brief hours, he managed to steal dust off to huff, and smoked pot. A week later he relapsed on cocaine. I just do not feel secure in his ability to stay sober, or his desire to really. I know this is my problem. I know I need to trust him and pray for strength and hope for the best, prepare for the worst. Really, I know these things. I just cant go through it all again. It just hurts too damn much to watch him unravel and self destruct again.

Ok, so fifteen months into his recovery and I am still scared and maybe a little less broken, but my hope is quickly fading. We went together to a meeting last night. Before it started we spoke a bit about the rooms and what it means and he got a little indignant as he usually does, and I asked him if he plans on getting a sponsor and he said No. He said he had people to talk, I tried to explain that sponsorship was more than that. I was grateful at the meeting more than one person shared on the importance of having a sponsor and working the steps. But I could see in his eyes that he really doesn't think he is like "these" people. He refused to share, he refused to participate in the reading, he declined my offer to buy him some literature to maybe read on his own. He said he doesn't "do" the reading out loud thing. I asked him why exactly he was going to the meetings, if he was going simply to appease me then he shouldn't bother, that my time would be better spent at meetings of my own, working at healing myself.

We both have our crosses to bear. I hate this F-ing disease.