Things Have Not Always Been This Calm

Someone that is newer to reading here left a comment that reminded me of how calm things have been (well, relatively speaking) in the last 6 months.  No, they were not always that way.  I'd say from mid 2006 up until his 3 month jail stay in August 2009 followed by 3 months in rehab, things were usually anything but calm.


Some memories:


- the first time I picked up the phone and heard someone say "This is Officer ______ from the Orange County Sheriff's Department, we have your son detained...."  He was 15 at the time, got a ticket for public intoxication when a group of teens were caught smoking weed and drinking at the local park.  Get this (this is funny in a sad way) I believed him when he said it was the first time he'd ever done those things.  I.  Believed. Him.  Dang, was I naive.  That episode sent us to a diversion program which required both of us to attend a classes for several months.  The classes had no affect on him whatsoever but it opened my eyes to what was going on in today's teen drug world.


- there were several other calls from the Sheriff but the worst was the time I called them to come to my home and arrest my son.  I will never forget the anger and hate in his eyes as he mouthed the words "f___ y___ b____" from the backseat of the patrol car as they drove him away.


- there were quite a few times he would go into rages for up to an hour or more at a time.  Those were the hardest to deal with.  I felt helpless, scared but mostly just in shock at the "monster" living in my son's body.  My sweet, loving boy was gone (thankfully he's back!) and this anger filled crazed maniac had taken over.


- of course there were the "I'm in jail" phone calls followed by many calls from jail telling me tales of his gang member cellmates who were in for charges like murder and armed robbery.


- one of the worst calls I got was after his friend had OD's and he'd kept him alive with CPR as he called 911.  He was too shaken up to drive home after that incident.  The officers told him he saved Jon's life, but Kev knew the truth:  he almost killed Jon.


There are lots more stories like these, and of finding drugs in his room, watching him in withdrawls, seeing his track marks for the first time, hearing him cry in pain while dope sick, and on and on it goes.


Today I am grateful that he's in the next room, doing homework, in for the night and back to being sweet, considerate and thankful.  I see him struggling, I hear the deep sighs and watch the other signs of anxiety in his expressions and actions.


Right under the surface of my joy at having my son back is a deep dark fear that he will relapse.  I try not to go there, but even if I don't think about it, I feel it in my chest weighing on my heart.


Peace, Hope and Love,
Barbara