We all want to think our kids are perfect. We all want to believe that they tell the truth. We all pray for their safety when they walk out the door. We all pray harder that they will walk back in again. The fact of the matter is that we don't have to look very much farther than our own teenage years when it comes to our kids. They think we just hatched when they were born. They think we are clueless as to what really goes on in the world. When we think back to the idiotic things we did in those years we hope they don't do the same.
My Sunny will be over in one hour for a sit down about her "hospital experience" and I am afraid. I am afraid of what I know. I am afraid of what addiction can do. I am afraid that she will have the defiance, excuses, stories and "I promises" all ready to go. I remember all of the rehearsed stories I went over in my head when I had to tell my folks about a bad grade or some trouble I found myself in. Those conversations never went as planned. The one we are going to have in an hour is no different.
Out of all the conversations I have had with strangers and friends about the power and manipulation that chemical dependency has over our minds, I never thought I would have to do it with family. I have to deal with the emotions that come from having been through the battle myself and be staring into the eyes of our middle child. The supportive side is there but I also am fighting with the anger and terror of knowing what she is up against.
Remember when your folks would tell you not to go to a party? You often made up stories and went anyway. "You tell your Mom I am with you, and I'll tell my Mom I'm with you." When we were told about the "bad" kids we were instantly attracted to their "badness" even if it was from afar. If my Mom told me not to look in a drawer, I ran to it like a man posessed as soon as the coast was clear. If our kids knew of some of our prior holiday antics or college war stories those would be instantly thrown into our face.
I am by no means supporting the drugs of the past, present or future. However, the stuff they are making today is unbelieveable. They are mixing cocaine and soap crystals. Meth is made with battery acid, draino, cleaning products and cold pills. The drugs are getting more potent, more deadly and more addictive. When I was growing up smoking grass was like you were a drug king pin. You were a "stoner." There was some speed and that was about it. Now kids have synthetic death to get off on along with all the stuff us parents have in our medicine cabinets to fight insomnia or anxiety.
One thing I won't do is start screaming. It is the quickest way to tune a kid out and give them the fuel to go seek more chemical relief. The goals of the chemical of addiction are to isolate, manipulate then dominate the user. The more the drug gets a hold the more it fans the flames of teenage angst. It's tough enough being stuck between being a kid and an adult as it is. Alcohol and drugs make that angst all the more gripping and powerful. The teenage years are truly the crossroads or turning point of success or catastrophe.
The addict feel nobody loves or understands them. That is part of growing up. When chemicals are added to the mix the disease tells you it really loves you and is your only friend. It really wants you dead. The fearless, indestructable attitude we have in our teenage years is blind but deeply engrained. At that age 60 is like a million years old. The thought of living to 50 seems like a pretty good run. They/we feel like we are invincible. Kids think it won't happen to me (overdose). Parents tighten their blinders and think "Not my sweet little Johnny."
It is thirty minutes until she arrives. I will pray that God gives me the words to help her understand what she's heading for. I often say "Show me your friends and I'll show you your future." No truer words can be spoken. I will listen instead of talk. I will have a conversation, not deliver a lecture. There will be consequences and boundaries set. There will be love and understanding. I will share with her the pain I have endured and put others through. I will let her know she is not alone. I will do what I can to support her. The rest is up to her and God. Please pray for her and our family.
This is just the beginning. Hopefully it was a phase or experience. During my sobriety I have been to more kids funerals than in the 20 plus years when I was an addict and alcoholic. I don't want to go to another one. When it comes to drugs think the worst, not the best about your child's experimentation. Addiction doesn't care how good or bad of a parent you are. It does not care how rich or poor you are. It does not care if you go to church on Sunday. It is an equal opportunity killer.
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