Happy Father's Day, U2, Clarence, Depression

Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there that love their children.  It takes a lot to be a good father, and even though you may wonder if your children are listening to you - they are.  They are listening and watching and becoming who they are partly because of you.  Knowing that you love them may be what keeps them going some days.  Wanting to make you proud is something that matters to them, even if they don't know it or show it.

Happy Father's Day to the mothers who are raising their children alone, especially a special young mom who reads this blog.  Its not easy to be the only parent.  I learned about halfway through that I could simply not be a father and a mother.  We are mothers doing doing it all, but we can't be fathers simply because we are women, not men.

The U2 concert was great, my friend had a wonderful time and that matters more to me than me having a good time.  Our seats were insanely good - so close to the stage.
But hearing of Clarence Clemons passing right before we walked into the stadium really put a dark cloud over the evening for me.

Yet, I felt depressed all day yesterday so I know it wasn't only losing a vital member of my favorite band of all time, its something more.  I don't know what it is but I feel it deep inside me right now.  The scary kind of depression that comes out of nowhere for no reason.

Going to visit Keven in a few hours.  I'm nervous because no matter how cheerful I act on the outside, he can tell when I am sad and it hurts him.  I don't want to cause him to feel bad just because I do.  But I guess that's how families work.

Hope all of you are doing good.  I will catch up on blogs as soon as I can.


Peace, Hope and Love, Barbara

Numb

I just feel numb today, and yesterday.  I can't explain why.

I think it was more like I was depressed but refused to acknowledge it because I "shouldn't" be depressed (I think it was Louise Hay who said "don't should on yourself!").

I have a long searched for job (part time), my son is in residential treatment, I have tons of stuff to be grateful for....but there's something inside me that wants to crawl in bed and not get up till "its over".  I don't even know what "it" is.

One thing I have to be excited about it that I will be seeing U2 one month from today.  Last time they toured (prior to the tour in '09 when Bono hurt his back and had to reschedule Anaheim till NOW) was 2005.  I'm going with a friend who's never seen them in concert, he'll be blown away.

U2 just happens to have a song titled "Numb" sang (well if you can call it singing) by The Edge.  Here are the lyrics.  For some reason, I like the monotone/industrial sound of it:



Peace, Hope and Love, Barbara

Who Is He?

I was talking to my ex-boyfriend on the phone earlier and he asked how K was.  He made a remark about how poorly K had treated me in the past, the mean and hurtful things he had said to me at times.  I was taken aback for a moment because I have not thought about that at all recently.  

K has been polite, considerate, slightly affectionate, agreeable.  I blame it on the drugs!  (the medications he's on not the illegal kind).  But seriously, he is not the same young man who was so angry and prone to outbursts of rage.

Who is this young man?  What is my son really like?  

I'd say the last two years have been so drug-infused that its impossible to separate who he really is from who the drugs created him to be.  During the time he should have been maturing and developing into an adult, he was numbing himself and running from reality.

The last six months have been drug free.  90 days in jail.  90 days in rehab, the last 45 days seeing a GOOD doctor that is monitoring his medications closely and actually spends time talking to him instead of pushing pills at him like the last one.  

I don't know if K knows himself right now.  I think he's gained confidence, has some hope, has learned tools for recovery and has a calmness he's never had before.  I guess I'll have to patiently wait and see who emerges as time goes on.  I know the meds are keeping his true self to emerge,  but, without them, he would not even have the opportunity to get this far.  I believe he would not have been around much longer living in his previous state of mind and living that lifestyle.

No matter what, I could not possibly love him any more, or any less, than I always have and always will.

Peace, Hope and Love,
Barbara


(Painting by Jim Dandy)

Unhappy Birthday

UPDATE:

Several hours have passed since I wrote the below post.  Since that time I've cried, read my comments and read an email from my best friend, she knows me and Keven really well (thank you S!)  Then I heard two songs in a row that made me think of K and of me (the one for me was Aretha's "Respect"!)

I've decided that the only gift I can give my son this year is the gift of taking care of myself.  The gift of not putting up with him treating me this way.  The gift of not enabling him or interfering with his recovery.  His life is his.  I can't change the past or the future, I can only take care of me and be present right NOW.  

I don't know what I would do without all of you who read here (and my other blogs).  I wrote about my "giving birth" experience on WFIO today just cause I felt like it.

THANK YOU ALL for caring, thank you from the bottom of my heart.



Well so much for that.

K seemed  happy to see us but within 20 minutes was sullen then got mean and his departing words are to unkind and frightening to share here.

I hope he was partly putting on an act and is not as seriously depressed and full of anger as he seems.  Its so hard to tell with him.  He hinted to his PO that he was suicidal but when asked point blank he says he's not.

I don't want to lose my son. 

I feel really sick, like I could throw up.  I don't know how to deal with this anymore.  I am sinking.

(Dad,  you were right).

Peace, Hope and Love,
Barbara

Bad Jail Visit

Today I decided to surprise him since no one else was going to visit him. Bad idea. That ear to ear grin from last time was MIA and the first words out of his mouth were "will you please stop sending me letters that say the same thing over and over, I get it, okay?"

I was hurt, he saw the hurt and then was upset that I was upset. I'll spare you the details but most of the conversation was all about him, his needs, his wants. I don't think he's ready. I fear that he's going to get out and use again. Don't they usually?

What will it take? I don't know. I just feel hurt, angry and very tired from lack of sleep last night. I slept from 7:30 am - 9:45 am. No kidding, that was it. I tossed and turned from 2-3, got up till 4, tossed and turned till 5 got up till 7 and finally fell asleep. I don't think Ambien works on me anymore :(

Also - I am very worried about Ant. I mentioned to K what he said to me on the phone the other night and K said "I hope he's not thinking of offing himself, he talks about it sometimes". Holy Father God - WHY? Why is there so much pain in the lives of these young people????

On the other hand, I talked about offing myself throughout my entire life....it comes from a sense of deep despair and hopelessness that feels like it will never end. But it does if you wait it out. I guess some of us are just wired to be depressed. If I could do one thing with the rest of my life it would be to reach out to these hurting young people.

Good Friends, Bad Friends

UPDATE: this is sad, he (Ant) called me tonight with one of those "favors" addicts ask and they honestly think it sounds legitimate and that you won't see through it. It was a very bold favor which tells me he's in a bad place. I said no, and my heart sunk. I hate this shit (heroin) so much I can't even find words vile enough to describe my hate for it.

If your a Zeppelin fan you may recall the first verse of their song, "Good Times, Bad Times". It reminds me a lot of my son and his friends:

In the days of my youth I was told what it was to be a man, Now I've reached the age I've tried to do all those things the best I can. No matter how I try, I find my way to do the same old jam.

I've known most of K's friends for years, some for most of his lifetime. There's several of them that I have gown to love. Sadly I have to categorize them in my mind as "good friends" and "bad friends". I am sure you can figure out why someone would fall into the bad friend category, but that doesn't mean I love those guys any less than the good ones.

Because of his drug use K lost all but one good friend during this last year. I watched as they stood by him during the beginning but each one faded away as they saw that he was not changing his way - he was still using. (Except good old Andrew who lives two doors away and still hangs out with K).

I got to see two of the good friends yesterday and got big hugs from both of them. One is heading off for one of the best 4 year colleges in our state the other is enrolled in the local community college. I was so happy for them. We didn't really say much about K - they know where he is, what more can they say? They were there at the hospital with me when he OD's, they were at my house talking and letting him cry and on their shoulders into the wee hours of morning many times. They included him, they tried to steer him away from drugs. I am touched by their efforts.

Then there are his bad friends. Only one of his bad friends still matters to me. His name is Ant and he calls himself "my second son". He lost his mother several years ago, she was killed when a meth lab exploded. His dad has been in and out of prison most of his life, he doesn't really know him. His brother is a tough guy that I would not want to mess with, just looking at him scares me.

Ant is an addict too. So I love him, but with that caution you have to use around addicts "is he bullshitting me or are these tears real?" He called today to see what the outcome of K's court appearance was yesterday. Then we talked about him. I could tell by his voice it was not good.

He left the sober living home he was in, has been using and has a warrant out for his arrest (he was in hardcore prison - Chino, for those familiar with the CA State Penitentiary system) and has been out for about 5 months. He started crying telling me he did not want to go back there and that his only hope was to get into a rehab "out of county" (meaning not here in OC). He has one in mind and is trying to get in. He asked me if I had any suboxone left, I said no. I wanted desperately to offer to take him to the doctor and get some, but I can NOT do that. It kills me, but I just can't spend money on him, the risk is too high.

Ant borrowed $60 from my mom when I was in Wisconsin. We'll never see it again. He asked me to lend him some money when he got out of prison so he could start his tattoo business (he is very, very talented but was using prison made equipment!). I said no, I would not lend him money but I would invest in his business by buying him the equipment (obviously this was when I had a job!). He was ecstatic and has been doing really well building up a bunch of clients and getting a portfolio of his work together. I am proud of him.

So today when we were talking he said, "tell K I love him but that there is no way we can see each other for a long time. We can't get clean together. We are a bad influence on each other. We have to do it separately then we can be bros again". He also gave me a list of five guys (new friends that I don't know well) that I should forbid K to see. One was someone K SWORE was not a druggie. I am glad Ant is committed to getting clean and I just pray to God that he can do it. He also has a son, about 2 years old, that he needs to be there for and I think that is part of his motivation. The little boy knows his Daddy, but not that well. I hope by the time the little guy is three, his dad is clean and sober and visiting him often. Boys need dads.