Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Help me walk another mile, just one more mile...

A day or so after the Prince's release from the hospital after the overdose, I spoke to his grandmother to see how he was doing since I was having a difficult time reaching him directly. She told me he was fine, but there had not been much conversation with him regarding his lifestyle, and what would and would not be tolerated from him if he was to continue living in their home as the girlfriend had been over around the clock and he lied to her as to why he was in the hospital, he told her he had low blood sugar, no mention of a drug overdose or that he was in trouble and needed help. If she were to find out what really happened, I am assuming she would not be happy and either break up with him or insist he get help, two scenarios that he is clearly not interested in entertaining.

I also inquired as to whether or not he had returned to work. His grandmother said to me, that no, not yet, but that SHE had to call his job and see if he was on the schedule for the upcoming days. I felt my blood boil. "YOU are calling?" I asked. I suggested that since he was 18 years old, and it is HIS job, that perhaps it would be better for him to start accepting some responsibility and maybe HE should actually call HIS job to see when he was supposed to be there. I suggested that maybe it would be better for him if she not do everything for him and that perhaps it would actually be to his benefit to start acting like a man and not a 5 year old and that maybe, just maybe if she stopped enabling him and throwing a pillow under his ass and covering up for him that maybe, just maybe, he would be forced to act like a man and either crash or burn. Needless to say, my advice was not appreciated.

I hung up the phone feeling very sad and discouraged and a bit guilty as it was my decision when he refused to embrace a clean and sober lifestyle to not allow him to live in my home any longer. I felt then, as I do now, that even though it was so painful to put him out of my house, that I could no longer enable him and I would not continue to let him steal from me, brings drugs into my home, and verbally abuse his brother and myself. I needed peace and serenity back in my life. I believed I was doing what was best for all of us. I never expected his grandparents, his grandmother specifically, to enable him to the extent that they have. I had to learn to detach myself from the situation, and to try to continue to love him in spite of his disease and the decisions he makes.

I finally spoke to my son about a week after his release from the hospital. It was very difficult for me to not go back to my old ways and lecture him, and demand he acknowledge he has a problem and to seek treatment. I was able to keep my anger mostly in check. I was a bit short with him and tried to make it clear to him that I would always be available to help him get help when he was ready. Once again, my unsolicited opinion and advice was not received warmly.

Yesterday the Prince called me at my office. The first thing he said to me was, "Mom, I need your help." My heart soared. I was ready to grab my coat and run out the door to take him to a meeting, a treatment facility, to the moon if need be. The words I have been longing to hear, finally spoken. I was cautious in choosing my words as the conversation continued, I told him, "Of course Baby, whatever you need." His response sunk my heart as fast as his initial words made it leap. He wanted my help buying a new computer. My disappointment was more than palpable. Then I became confused. I am not an expert in technology and I often turn to the Prince when I make any kind of technology purchases, I didn't understand how he could possibly need MY help with this, and I so inquired. He then proceeded to laugh and tell me that he needed my help financially, as in he needed MY money to buy a new computer. I could hardly contain my laughter. My typical response when he asks me for money is that he should get a job. He responded that he had a job, and could pay me back. I asked him if he had been back to work since the "incident". He said, well no, but he was planning on calling today to see if he was back on the schedule. This kid, just doesn't get it. So I said good luck with the computer and goodbye.

Letting go, with love, and just a little bit of anger.

6 comments:

Beth said...

At the very least, he was the source of some very ironic humor.

TodayTodayToday said...

Hey Kel,

Sounds like things are back to normal. That is if you define normal as the disfunctional shit that happens between major chaos. Sound like you are committed to doing sane things though.

vicariousrising said...

It's OK to feel a little angry in a situation like this. I checked with my therapist. Well, not about your situation in particular, but about feelings of anger in general. It's OK to have them. It's what we do with them that matters.

You're doing fine, bless you. I'm glad you sound like you have a little bit of humor back.

Jaqui said...

I feel totally the same way about my sister. It seems their priorities are all out of wack and sometimes i get so angry.

pat said...

Addiction is a selfish disease, Kel. It makes people behave in ways, they usually would not behave when sober. Your son is at a low point. Sadly, his enabling grandparents are teaching him that he has a sense of entitlement to whatever he wants when he wants it and sadly there is not a damn thing you can do except sit back & watch, wait, pray & hope. Take care of yourself. Sleep, rest, eat well, go to a support group, seek personal counseling, lean on friends/family. Do what it takes to stay well because when he is ready & needs your help, you will be ready.

Syd said...

Kel, I think that you did the right thing. He wasn't really wanting your help just your money. That isn't acceptable. I'm glad that you didn't cave in. It is tough to love someone who is so troubled.