Let’s Get Local!

Anoka-Hennepin OYA Screen Shot 2016.png

This week, my school district is hosting the second of a three-part series on drug and alcohol prevention and use among teens. I am grateful that local media is helping drive attendance and attention. (The picture above shows the district’s website homepage following our first event.)

http://kstp.com/news/anoka-hennepin-school-district-community-forum-drug-alcohol-prevention/4062141/

http://anokahennepin.schoolwires.net/site/Default.aspx?PageID=2&PageType=17&DomainID=4&ModuleInstanceID=1&EventDateID=11699

The more the story gets out, the more we can address the underlying issues of youth substance use.

What are you doing in your community? If you’d like ideas or resources, please reach out. Together, we can spread the word.

Midwestern Mama

©2016 Our Young Addicts            All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

 

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Siblings Deserve a College Scholarship

Without a doubt, siblings are impacted by their brother’s or sister’s addiction. Dean Dauphinais​, a father with a son in long-term recovery, has created a special scholarship to help siblings. Fantastic idea.  Check out this great opportunity and please spread the word.  http://mylifeas3d.blogspot.com/2015/04/my-life-as-3d-scholarship-essay-contest.html

I remember the day we dropped my son off at college. It had been a tumultuous couple of years with an addiction that we were just beginning to understand. He thought he was ready. We were hopeful that a new crowd, a tennis coach that truly believed in his talents, and a clean slate might just be the best-ever opportunity.

As we said our goodbye’s, my son said, “Mom, I promise I won’t F- this up.”

His little brother, 10 years old, at the time, was no stranger to the promises and excuses of an addicted sibling.

Six days later, big brother passed out from drugging and drinking. Someone found him in a snow bank in sub-zero temperatures. He was taken by ambulance to the ER and later sent to detox. The downward spiral spiraled faster than ever.

Fast forward four years, big brother is sober and in recovery (nine months!), and little brother is a freshman in high school.  College is in the near future for him.

Addiction costs so much, tangibly and intangibly, financially and emotionally. For every member of the family.

I do not know Dean Dauphinais​ directly but am familiar with his blog and social-media presence. My impression is he’s a good dad who is an excellent advocate for our young addicts and their families. He seems to have the respect of parents and professionals, and I am only too happy to help spread the word about the college scholarship he’s put together.

See what you think.

Midwestern Mama

My Child Has a Problem with Drugs

Here’s a post I wish had been around when our son started using drugs. This is informative and realistic. In particular, check out the questions for parents and the suggestions it offers. One of the hardest things for us was that we recognized our son’s drug problem long before anyone else did and long before he was ready to admit it let alone accept help. In time, however, he successfully completed treatment (not the first couple of times) and has embraced sobriety and recovery.

800 Recovery Hub Blog

As a parent, it is your role to take care of your child. But, when your teen or adult child is addicted to drugs, most likely the best you can do is to guide them to a solution.  If your loved one wants to get clean and sober, then help them get into a rehab. But what if you are not sure they are addicted to drugs …or what if they don’t want help…

If your teen or adult child starts behaving differently for no apparent reason––such as acting withdrawn, frequently tired or depressed, or hostile—it could be a sign he or she is developing a drug-related problem. Parents and others may overlook such signs, believing them to be a normal part of the growing up process.

Through scientific advances, we know more than ever before about how drugs work in the brain. We also know that addiction can be successfully…

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Nothing to Hide

We are a couple of moms creating a community of adults who care and are concerned about the young addicts in our lives. Together, we share our stories. Together, we share our truths. Though experiences, support and information, we are connected. We are together.

With kids born in the late 80s and early 90s, I didn’t jump on the social media train until a few years ago, and of course, it wasn’t even an option when they were little. Thus, they were spared from having baby pictures shared on Instagram. They were spared mommy blogging about spit up and potty training. And, they were spared from having their lives shared with “friends,” “followers” and “fans.”

The absence of social media did not equate with super private lives necessarily. Among friends and family, whether face to face or in letters and phone calls, we certainly shared plenty of details. I remember having daily, hour-long phone conversations with another mother who was part of a volunteer committee. We talked about anything and everything.

At the same time, I like to think I always had good judgment and a healthy respect for family members and family matters about what to share and what to keep within more immediate confines. Maybe that’s my generation. Maybe that’s my set of values. But maybe there’s some real merit in it, too.

When our middle kid, Our Young Addict, began having problems, I was open and honest with just about everyone, especially with teachers, coaches, counselors, neighbors, co-workers and many others. It seemed important to clue them in on our chaos and to share our experience. We had nothing to hide and only the best intentions.

More often than not, we were offered support and concern. Not everyone knew what to say or do, but everyone cared. Some people were grateful to know what was going on. Others had personal or family connections to addiction and recovery. Most were sympathetic if not empathetic.

Sure, there were some people who didn’t understand. Some thought surely I was exaggerating. Some probably were in denial about their kids. Some probably passed judgment on us and on our son. Most certainly, some got tired of getting a truthful response when they asked how we were doing or how our son was doing. They probably wanted to hear that everything was better, that he wasn’t an addict, that he had stopped using drugs, that all of this had just been a phase.

Along the way, I did turn to the internet to find information. Not only did I find volumes and volumes of information (and varying degrees of helpfulness), but I also started to find communities. You’ve read this before – this is how Our Young Addicts started; another mom and I connected as part of an online forum, exchanged our stories, and found value in sharing our experiences. We bolstered each other up. We offered each other the advice we ourselves needed to hear. We supported each other. We didn’t hold back because honesty was the key to success.

We decided that social media would be the best way to create a community with you. That’s way we launched on Twitter, Facebook and WordPress. Our intent is to provide glimpses into our own experiences as encouragement for you to share yours with the rest of the community. In addition, we like to share current news and findings so each of us becomes smarter and more informed.

One of the things that Mid Atlantic Mom and I feel strongly about is finding a balance between honesty, transparency and identity. Our sons are in their twenties now. They are legally adults. They have a right to their privacy and that includes their identities. That is why I do not use my name or my son’s name. It’s out of respect for his past, present and future. But that is also why I tell it like it is what we’re experiencing, what it’s like. The anonymity … It’s not for fear of shame or stigma. It’s not for keeping a secret. It’s for what I call being appropriately anonymous. That’s why we use the monikers – Midwestern Mama and Mid Atlantic Mom.

Our stories, not just mine and Mid Atlantic Mom’s, all of ours collectively, are vitally important. These stories create community regardless of whether the young person you’re concerned about is just trying out drugs or alcohol, is using recreationally, is abusing regularly, is progressing toward addiction and or more substances, is experiencing consequences, is in treatment, is in relapses, is in recovery, is struggling or thriving. Our stories are our truth and our truth is our connection.

Midwestern Mama

Frazzle Free or at Least Not so Frazzled

Midwestern Mama takes pause to consider the transition from chaos to calm.

Today as I was moving from early-morning family duties to work commitments that included three client meetings and then heading to campus to teach a night course, I realized there is relatively little chaos in my life right now.  Just the normal, more expected things like deadlines and deliverables.  I’m not as frazzled as I had become during the early years of my son’s escalating drug use. Instead, I’m not trying to fulfill my responsibilities to others – let alone myself – while containing and compartmentalizing the out-of-control and truly scary situation that was consuming my young addict and our family.  After all, even though we were dealing with addiction, we still had to live our lives.

This transformation from chaos to calm is attributable to several things:  acceptance, exploration, connection.  It’s also attributable to my son’s engagement in treatment and recovery – sobriety does wonders.

Acceptance came in phases.  Initially, acceptance came from recognizing that there was a problem and stepping up as parents to address it.  At first we couldn’t diagnose the problem but we could pinpoint the existence of our son’s challenges. We could tap the experts like doctors and counselors.  As we came to recognize that drugs were indeed a contributing factor, we moved from suspicion to documentation to action.  Eventually, it came full circle to accepting that the situation simply existed.

Exploration also came in phases.  It has ranged from Google-fests to appointments to prayer and meditation.  We sought to understand.  We sought to solve.  We sought to deal with our feelings, our concerns and our hopes.    Exploration included education as well as a willingness to try different options.  In many ways, exploration was salvation because each new finding, each new piece of knowledge, led to understanding.  It also led to despair and overwhelming thoughts of all the what ifs.  Ultimately, though, exploration provided context and actionable next steps for ourselves and for our son.

Connection, however, was among the most liberating aspect of our lives these past few years.  I think about the many people I talked to on the phone and met with.  I think about attending Al-anon meetings and adapting many of the principles to my life in general.  I think about connecting with MidAtlantic mom and many other parents via online forums.  Each of us seemed to be there for each other at exactly the right time.  We still are.  For that, I am forever grateful.

If through acceptance, exploration and connection nothing else changed, I am confident that I began to build up the emotional reserves to live as the parent of a young addict.  I know that I can go on no matter what.  Amid all the chaos and the most frazzling of situations, I know I am part of a community that cares and that I can contribute to helping others transition from chaos to calm.  Please let us know how we can be there for you and how we can help.

Midwestern Mama

Not That Far From Home.

Midwestern Mama discovers a community of opiate users in recovery — just miles from her suburban home – as her son begins Suboxone treatment and counseling for Heroin addiction.

Less than five miles from my suburban home is an outpatient treatment center that offers Methodone and Suboxone dosing in addition to individual counseling, group sessions and training. Although it’s close to where I live, it’s not on a road I ordinarily take and even though I’ve driven that road many times over the 20 plus-years that I’ve lived here, it’s not a structure that I ever noticed.

The past two days, however, changed that. I have taken notice and I have spent several hours there. It has been eye opening and I actually look forward to seeing and experiencing more in the days ahead. As part of my son’s journey with addiction, I have yearned for an insider’s perspective to better understand the complexities of substance use disorder – if not his, that of others.

Sitting in the waiting room for several hours yesterday as he met with a physician, had a lab test and met with the intake coordinator, I busied myself with a proposal, client emails and some trade publications. All the while, I engaged in people watching and caught snippets of their conversations with each other.

It was clear that most of the men and women were regulars, although there were definitely some other first-timers and perhaps a few other supportive parents. The regulars were animated in their talk, joking and catching up with each other. Their faces and bodies evidenced difficult times, but their conversation indicated hope and commitment to better times. Many of them carried backpacks stuffed to the gills and I wondered if they were transient. Quite a few had large beverage containers from the convenience store across the street – sodas, chocolate milk, juice. Several of them had small lock-boxes.

One 50-something man, in particular, had an Irish accent, immediately introduced himself as Chillin’ McDillon, and complemented me on my smile telling me that it may him very happy to see. Without prompt or hesitation, he began telling me his life story. My son was signing in at the reception desk or he probably would have had a fit that I was interacting with Chillin’ McDillon

A younger woman used the clinic phone (sign posted above stating a 3-minute limit for calls). She was trying to get a school transcript to enroll in community college and it sounded like she’d been through a number of hoops already. Yet another woman was quite angry and punctuated her account of the last night’s activities with four-letter words to describe her boyfriend’s shortcoming.

In dress pants and a button-down shirt, another man filled out paperwork and checked his mobile device. He kept looking up hoping his was his turn to get called back to the lab.

Meanwhile, staff with lanyard nametags and jangling sets of keys came and went calling names and taking clients back for various appointments. In addition, someone was job shadowing and someone else was there for a site visit. Clinic staff were giving a tour and explaining the programs they offer.

A few years ago, let alone a days ago, I would not have imagined being here. Although we had suspected opiate use, this drug of choice was quite foreign to us. It’s only been recently that I began learning more and more about it and the challenges of overcoming this highly addictive substance. I had heard about Methadone and Suboxone, and more recently about Naltrexone (a medication our son took while inpatient earlier this year). Now, we were in the midst of it and it was not far from home.

After another round of “now you see me, now you don’t,” our son arrived home last Tuesday evening unannounced and coming down from a high. Our family was united in our expectations and the conditions under which he could stay in our home. We were not feeling very tolerant of another breech and initiated a straightforward conversation – with loving intention but resulting in a somewhat ugly verbal exchange.

My husband’s direct and strong voice expressed the message. We were clear, come morning he had to honor our agreement to do something positive and productive every day toward sobriety and it would begin with a call to some treatment places and start a program or he could not stay with us. His choice.

Midway through this ultimatum, and I hate that it was an ultimatum, he zoned out. I don’t think we realized he was coming down from a high or perhaps we would not have started this conversation, but as cognizant as we are of his use we simply didn’t see this.

For the next 30 minutes, he was half asleep but not at all engaged with the rest of us. We just watched. Finally, we said, it’s late and time to go to bed. My son went upstairs and climbed in bed. We tucked in our younger son and my husband and I proceeded to toss and turn the rest of the night.

True to our word, the next morning, I woke my son and handed him a list of places to call before the day was up. Groggy, crabby and feeling dope sick, he begrudgingly got up and spent the day with me. By late afternoon, he’d talked to one place but didn’t think it was the right place for him (a common theme) and left a message for the other. He didn’t want to talk about any of it and seemed resentful. There was lots of silence.

The next morning, I woke him up and he went with me again. I encouraged him to call back the place he’d left the message because sometimes getting through means being persistent. I’ll be darned, but he reached them and they had an opening with the physician for the next morning. Without hesitation, I changed a meeting to be able to take him.

Again, I had to wake him up. He ate a bagel and cream cheese. Without showering or changing out of his baggy PJ bottoms and sweaty t-shirt, we drove to the clinic. Throughout the morning of him meeting one-on-one with their staff, he would return to the waiting room and gradually began filling me in, being more conversational.

That afternoon, my husband and I took him for a haircut and we ate a late lunch together. He was energetic and pleasant. When we got home, he showered and trimmed his beard. He was feeling better and looking better, too.

Then, of course, he made a last-minute departure to hang with friends instead of attending a family birthday dinner. We know for certain he lied about which friends and we were 50-50 on whether he’d let us know his plans let alone whether he’d come home that night. We were unsettled, but decided to let go and accept that we had done all we could to include him in the family. Shortly after 10 p.m., he texted to see if we were home yet as he was on his way back. Didn’t really expect that.

This morning he woke up on his own and ready to get his Suboxone dose at the clinic. He came out with a list of dates for seeing the physician and counseling appointments. He talked about the upcoming group sessions that he’d be attending. He even gave me the sheet of paper to read, which he’s previously stuffed these things in his pocket and resisted letting us see them.

We had a short conversation about honesty and being a support system, but didn’t belabor it. It remains wait-and-see, but I am ever grateful for some positive motion and the possibilities that this could yield for him to get back on the recovery track. As much as he has fled from home in the past, it’s interesting that he’s sticking so close to home these days and that this current endeavor is not that far from home.

Midwestern Mama

Meterology – Can You Ever Really Predict the Weather?

Parenting our young addict is a bit like being a meteorologist. We can predict the weather with some measure of science, expertise and experience, but in the end, the weather is beyond our control. When we think it’s going to be sunny, it turns out to be stormy and vice versa.

In the span of days let along hours and minutes, everything can change.

It always seems like after a period of niceness, our young addict’s itchiness returns and he heads out the door. Back to the familiar, the comfort of the drug world. Sobriety and recovery – be gone.

There’s always a glimmer of hope – of sunshine and clear skies. It is followed by an easily recognizable shadow of devastation – of stormy weather.

This has been another one of those predictable weeks. It’s gone like this:

A week ago Sunday – He wakes after 16 hours of deep sleep on the floor of our great room. Although he asked to come over for dinner, he slept through it. Although his little brother had a friend sleep over, he didn’t wake up. That morning, he showers and eats a bagel. I’m outside watering the plants as he walks out the door. “Where are you headed?” I ask. “To Dan’s,” he says. (Dan is his drug buddy, who lives at home with his parents.) “Not going to Grandma’s?” I ask. (It’s been a Sunday-afternoon ritual for the six grandchildren for years.) “No, I guess not,” he says.

We didn’t see or hear from him again in spite of sending nice texts asking if he wanted to sleep here or needed any help with anything. Chances are, his phone was dead as the charger was here at our house. Even still, his friends often have a charger for him to use.

Finally on Wednesday, I texted him that the family was planning to have dinner at a local restaurant – would he like to join us? He responded that he’d already eaten, but would stop by later. Then, later, he said he had plans.

Early the next morning, Thursday, as I was heading to work, he calls. “Can I stop home to shower and change clothes?” Years back, earlier in this weathered story of addiction, we would have been reticent to say yes. Today, as fragile as he is, and as hopeful as we are that he will return to treatment and recovery, we say yes.

“I have to leave in 30 minutes,” I say. He shows up, showers and toasts a bagel. Once at my office, he grabs some chair cushions and falls asleep under a desk in an colleague’s office who is out of town.

A few hours later, before heading to a client meeting, I nudge him. He grabs a soda from the office fridge and heads downtown with me. He sits in the car for my first meeting. For the second meeting, I point out the library across the street and he says he will hang there until I’m done.

When I come out of my client meeting, I check my phone to find a text from him. “Took the bus to meet a friend.”

The next day, Friday, around 5 p.m., my husband and I enjoy being home early on a warm and muggy evening. Sitting on the deck, we see our son walking down the street. My husband hops in the car catching up to our son. He’s headed to the local convenience store where a “friend” is picking him up. He accepts a ride.

More than an hour later, we stop at the same convenience store with his younger brother to pick up some sodas and snack for the family. Guess who’s still there? Our young addict. He’s standing with another young man, whom we recognize and a young woman. He won’t look at us or acknowledge us. His eyes are baggy. He is unsteady on his feet.

I buy our picnic and he angrily replies, “Stop stalking me.” Wow. I do not engage with this cold, angry, bitter conversation. We go on about our family evening. Without a doubt, he is stalking his next high.

Well, I would have expected no additional contact for quite a few days, but get a surprise text the next evening. “You home? I’m going to stop by.”

He does. Eats a bagel. (No there’s no balance to his diet, but at least I have what he seems to want.) He falls asleep. The dog manages to wake him up with sniffing and kissing. He takes a shower. Resumes his nap, but is awoken by a phone call. Within minutes, he’s out the door – headed to Dan’s. “See you tomorrow for Grandma’s. What time are we going?”

Just like that, he’s gone again. However, right on time, he reappears today to go to Grandma’s.

After a nice Sunday visit at Grandma’s, he takes off again, but there’s what I never predicted. He – all on his own, before walking out the door – confirms that he has an assessment appointment on Tuesday at the out-patient program we looked at a few weeks ago.

Will he show up for dinner tomorrow night and spend the night? Will he go to the assessment? Will he answer somewhat truthfully? Will he be accepted for the out-patient program? Will they recommend he return for in-patient treatment? Will he accept their recommendations? Will he enroll and engage in either of their programs? I cannot predict.

Why do I share this? Because, I suspect you’re in a similar spot – as a parent, an adult who cares, or a recovering addict. Together, we can recognize the weather patterns and better weather the weather.

Midwestern Mama

Never Say Never

Midwestern Mama and her family have been modeling for us what it means to be the loving support system for a family member with a substance use disorder. They keep him close and include him in family activities without enabling or condoning his use. They treat him with dignity and respect, while encouraging him to get the help he needs. This is a very difficult line to walk and it’s easy to step outside the path, but I believe it’s better to make mistakes and keep our loved ones close.

I have always said to both my sons that I am glad God gave them to me. Someday I believe Midwestern Mama’s son will tell his family that he is glad God gave him to them.

Recently Midwestern Mama tweeted “I keep praying that a guardian angel will show up and that my son will trust and have faith in the help this angel offers.” It looks to me that that angel has shown up and it’s guiding this family.

“Never, never, never give up.” Winston Churchill

Mid Atlantic Mom

That Dang Elephant Won’t Leave the Room

You’re familiar with the concept of the elephant in the room – the thing we all know is there but that we ignore or pretend it isn’t there.  Sometimes we do this to retain harmony.  Sometimes we do it to avoid conflict.  Sometimes we mention the elephant but then change the topic.  Sometimes, we know it’s an exhausted topic with nothing new to add.  And sometimes, we say to heck with the elephant and just talk about it anyway — it ends up being a one-sided conversation or a two-way disaster.  The elephant for our family is anything related to our son’s addiction, treatment and recovery.

We get along pretty well with our son these days unless we bring up his situation. Goodness knows, if we don’t bring it up, he won’t.  That’s when it gets really uncomfortable because the challenges continue and his choices continue to have undesired consequences.

Our son’s counselor at the recovery program (a halfway house) recommended a 90-day treatment plan.  He’s completed 6o days but wants to be done.  Unfortunately, he doesn’t have housing and moving back home is not a good option – in anyone’s opinion.  He made the decision two weeks ago and today is his last day there.  He hasn’t shared this with us directly so it’s really dicey to bring it up.

Without housing, it will be difficult for him to keep his employment.  Without employment, it will be difficult for him to pay for housing.  This cycle has happened several times before.  In the past, it has escalated his drug use.  I know one thing that is driving his desire to be out of the program is he believes he can drink and use recreationally without it leading to abuse.  As much as he dislikes structure and accountability, he withers without it and he’s not all that motivated to go to meetings or counseling – doesn’t find value in it he says.  All this points to an unfortunate truth – he’s still struggling and he’s not ready or open to help from his program, AA, NA, his counselor or from us.

I want to talk to him about it – his feelings, his concerns, his needs, his worries, his hopes, his plans.  I’ve reached out to him with no response until this morning.  The reply was pleasant enough, but it entirely avoided the conversation on any level.

Yes, the elephant is still here.

Midwestern Mama

 

 

 

 

Absolutely, please share!

Last week I was talking with one of the professionals who has been with us from midway in our son’s journey.  As I was sharing updates, including pride in the progress Mid Atlantic Mom and I are creating with Our Young Addicts on WordPress, Twitter and Facebook, the professional asked if he could share these resources with another client.

Absolutely! (By the way – BTW – I never knew an online experience could prove so valuable until I gave it a try. So,we encourage others to see if it can help them.)

I was once just like this client – a parent looking for resources and trying to do the right things for my son and for myself not to mention for my husband and our other children.  Some days, I truly felt like my roles and responsibilities were colliding. I was acting part on gut and part on advice from others. In time, I was acting on a more spiritual, Higher Power  I desperately wanted someone to give me a simple three-step solution to stop my son from abusing drugs, to get him into treatment and recovery, and to get him back on track with a happy, healthy life.  It felt like there should be something like 1) have a direct, caring and honest conversation with him about our concerns, 2) take him to a doctor or counselor who will enroll him in treatment, and 3) go back to college … and BTW, tell your parents you are sorry for all the concern you caused and thank us for all the time, money and emotions they spent trying to help you.

That plan is far from simple and even farther from realistic. No matter what we said or did, these steps didn’t go as hoped or planned.  Every effort was met with resistance, hurdles, and more.

What I’ve learned is by acting on our gut as well as taking professional advice (conventional and alternative), we continue to do “all the right things” even if the outcomes haven’t always been “right.”  I’m grateful that none of those more experienced than I have said something like,  “OMG what were you thinking Midwestern Mama – that’s the worst thing you could do.” I’d have been mortified that I was not doing the best by our son and family.  Yet, sometimes, I wish someone would have spoken up and said otherwise.  Instead, we have a report card of As for effort but results TBD and I so much want an A (or at the very least a passing grade) for results – not for ours but for our son’s.

Neither Mid Atlantic Mom nor I have the answers, but we’ve each hit on a trifecta that works – one part gut (mom radar), one part advice (a mixture of professional, parental and alternative) and one part faithful spirit (Al-anon or similar).  Please share our resource so that it becomes richer with your contributions – be these experience, professional, alternative, parental, spiritual or whatever works.

We will keep sharing.  Please keep letting us know what’s working – or not working – for you.

Here for you,

Midwestern Mama

Let’s Chat

One of our goals at Our Young Addicts is to provide a place where family and friends of young addicts can talk to each other in a relatively anonymous way.  We expect to be able to provide a forum for that kind of interaction on our web site, it’s just that we haven’t developed it yet.  It’s in the works though!

In the meantime we are offering a secret Facebook group to those of you who want to connect in a meaningful way.  To join the group you must first friend our Facebook group Our Young Addicts.  https://www.facebook.com/OurYoungAddicts   After you join, send us a direct message asking us to add you to the group Family and Friends Place and we will  add you.  From there you can chat with us or others in the group.

Your profile WILL be visible to others in the group but the general Facebook public will not see that you are part of the group.

We respect the privacy of you and your young addicts and expect all who join the group to have the same respect for each other.

Looking forward to connecting with you.

Our Young Addicts

Email ouryoungaddicts@gmail.com

Twitter @ouryoungaddicts

Onward, Young Addict

This morning went as planned.  Actually, so did last evening.  Phew!

Amid the chaos of transition from treatment to the halfway house, I’m pleased with the general and genuine helpfulness of every participant.  My son was skeptical and a bit combative.  Some of his manipulative, emotionally charged language showed, but overall he was even tempered and collective patience of all participants paid off.

We were fortunate that his great aunt and great uncle live near the treatment program and were willing to have him stay the night at their house.  It was a neutral, if not positive, place for this period of limbo.  His great uncle then brought him to the halfway house this morning and I met them there.  So grateful for family.

I met the intake counselor and one of the techs.  It felt good to see the neighborhood and get a feel for the program.  The counselor gave me a copy of the client handbook, which outlines three phases moving from highly restrictive to moderate to ready for discharge.  It’s anywhere from 30 to 90 days of programming, and likely the recommendation of a sober house for continued aftercare.

This particular program is 12-step.  It does not thrill my son, who has issues with the “powerless” and “higher power” concepts.  (His treatment program was based on a modality called Health Realization.)  They seem accommodating, however, and I hope he will be too.  For the first five days, he must stay on premises and cannot have calls or visitors.  After that, there is more freedom along with structure and accountability.

He will continue taking an antidepressant and an opioid blocker (Naltrexone) to aid in his recovery.  He will be connected with a primary care, psychiatrist and therapist for continuing care in addition to the AA/NA and group work at the halfway house.

We hugged and said I love yous.  I told him we are proud of him, but he shrugged his shoulders and said, “I guess.”  He’s young.

Midwestern Mama

 

Ready or not, here I come

Tomorrow morning I will pick up my son at treatment. Due to complications with finding an available half way house, his 28 day treatment has lasted 42 days. I am great for the extra days. He is ready for a new routine. He would like to return to complete freedom but is far from ready. The half way house will provide transition. Ready or not, this is the next chapter. In an upcoming post I will share my impressions.