IT’S TIME, JUDY
CONTD .
When I realized what he had done, I threw things at him and told him he killed my mother all over again. Once he knew there was nothing left in my jewelry box, he went after his Aunt’s jewelry box, someone he loved dearly. He constantly lied to us about what he was doing and where he was going. He became darker and sicker looking. We, as parents, have this awful self- protective layer of denial when it comes to our kids. We don’t do it on purpose, we just try to justify and rationalize what we are seeing to fit our understanding of what our child is. The disease of addiction knows this well. It is evil and cunning and depends on this love we have for our loved one to allow it time to affix its claws into the brain. When Zach was officially diagnosed, we got him into a 30-day rehab the next day ($30K, placed on a credit card with me telling the rep “You WILL accept the charge, right?”). . Once he got out, it wasn’t over, though we thought it was. We all started a torturous stint of relapses interspersed with promises and lies that forced us, his parents, to endure a deeply steep and painful learning curve that no parent should ever have to endure . We learned that when our son said “I feel great, but how will I make it through my wedding? My 21st birthday?” those were huge red flags. When he said “Why me? Why did this happen to me?”- Another huge red flag. When my husband and I said to each other “Ok, since his addiction is with opiates, let’s let him drink alcohol so he can feel part of the group and not be ostracized”, we essentially were handing him a death sentence.
Our specific story is ultimately not important, because you learn quickly that all the stories are painfully similar. We are all on the same awful journey. The confusion. The rationalization of ‘off’ behavior. The missing money. The missing jewelry. The threats. The negotiating. The realization that your child or loved one’s brain has become hijacked. He is not your child anymore. He is a monster . He needs to leave before the rest of the family is decimated, but if you throw him out, you wait for the phone call from the police that he is either dead or in jail. The pain is unbearable. I honestly don't know how my husband and I got out of it unscathed. Such stress on a family usually destroys marriages. But somehow, we did it. When I didn’t have the strength to deal with it, he took control. When he was done with the whole thing, I took over. When my husband said “back to rehab”, I don't know where I got the clarity of mind to say “NO”. I don’t know how he held back and accepted what I said, but he did. We worked on getting Zach a network of support: An AA meeting for beginners (those who are addicted to any substance are welcome, ...not just alcoholics and the NA meetings have questionable success here in the US) filled with recovering alcoholics and addicts who literally engulfed him in support and praise, a psychiatrist who had a specialty in addiction and was a godsend, an amazing counselor whom Zach loves dearly and sees to this day, and a renewed trust that this was the right way to go."
How did we know what to do? God only knows. Literally.
JUDY’S STORY
HOLA SOBER | MADRID
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