Monthly Archives: November 2009

Our Hope

In the middle of all of this, my faith has been quiet — strong within me but not without.  It is time for me to begin to speak the truth and release the power of my God:

“But as for me, I will look to the Lord and confident in Him I will keep watch; I will wait with hope and expectancy for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me. Micah 7: 7

Here are Scriptures of Hope:  http://www.heavensinspirations.com/word-hope.html

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Will my real son please stand up?

One day he steals from his dad.  The next day he shows up for volunteer work.  The next he is talking suicide, the next detox and rehab, and then he is claiming he can withdraw on his own.  Insanity at work.  A slow destruction.  He is sick with an illness that leads to and feeds on isolation.  How do you have a funeral for the walking dead?

Those Sad Days

Today is one of those sad days.  It was preceded by happy days.  I had stopped writing here for awhile because things were going along fairly smoothly and I was happy to take a break from defining myself as “the mother of an addict.”    But here I am again.

Today my ex husband discovered that there were checks missing from his checkbook.  He called the bank and yes, indeed, my addict son had stolen checks from his dad and written them to himself and cashed them.  Then my ex realized he had a box of checks up in his closet.  He took a look for them and found that one whole set of checks was missing.   He called the bank and closed his account.  It’s a sad day.

My son called and cried when he realized we knew.  There are two of him.  The real one and the addict.  And we see who’s winning.

My prayers are continual.  And I feel like … I feel like my son has died, and yet there can be no funeral.  As if he has been kidnapped maybe; only there is no ransom we can pay to get him back.

Relapse

I was sure I posted about this several days ago.

My addict son relapsed.  Truth:  he relapsed the day after he got home from rehab.  I found him in the garage, needle in hand, Monday night.  I told him to leave.  It makes me sick — his shooting up, being out on the street, the lies, my boy…gone.  I feel like my son is dead.  I am emotionally shut off from him and I don’t know how to love him.

What happens now?

Prayer is all I have left where he is concerned.  And I know that God can heal all things, is stronger than all things, and loves my boy more than I do.  Prayer is all I have.