chapter 9

In Mid-February we went to Disney, Mike had to get permission from his counselor, and he did, we had a great time.  Mike was happy!  He drank a lot of beer, "We're on vacation, aren't we?" he remarked. 

     Mike and Amy went on rides together.  I think we all needed the break from reality.  We were gone only three days, but they were worry free days.

     Back home Mike stayed with us and talked about recovery.  He said he didn't realize how hard it was going to be. "This is turning out to be harder than I thought.  It isn't easy, but I'm holding my own."  He said.

     It seemed like he had associated PTI with the high.  Go to PTI, test clean, get the urge, relapse!  Yet another cycle to reckon with.  I kept telling myself I'm getting tired of this. If he wants that life, then just go live it!  If it was anyone other than your own child, that statement would apply.  You could and probably would say that to your husband, brother, sister, mother, or friend, any one other that your own child.   But as his mother, I had to be the little train that could.  I can help him, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can. 

     If will alone could do it, it would have been done.  And with this feeling of love, respect and yes trust, we let him go, to show us that he could control his addiction, that he could stay away from crack cocaine, and he could do it, not because we his parents said so, but because he said so.

     March came with the PTI test on the fifth, the nervous tension, waiting for the urge to hit.  How would he handle it this month?  He handled it better, I watched him try to control it, try to get over it and then I watched him give into it!  But this time something different happened, he left yes, but he was home that evening, hiding in his room.  He had the "don't see me" attitude.  He wouldn't look at me, didn't want to talk much, just kind of hid in his room. 

     I wondered how long he would stay there and I asked him.

"Mike, are you alright?  Are you in for the night?" 

     He said "yes I'm in to stay."  but he still had that crazed look in his eyes.  I went to bed wondering whether I should or could sleep.  I slept with one eye open as they say.  I woke up about every hour, going to check on him, was he still here, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw him in his bed.  This wasn't usual, he didn't get it out of his system, he didn't get sick of it.  I was afraid he just got a taste, and would go back for more.  But I was hopeful that he was just testing himself and maybe he really could walk away from it.       

                      * * *

     Patrick came to see us about a job, we told him if he could behave, he could drive the wrecker.  We didn't want any part of his wife, he wasn't to bring the kids to work with him.  No coming to work high or getting high at work.  He agreed to those terms.  He was a hard worker, when he wasn't worried about his home life, which was rarely.

     I remember April because of Easter.  We had asked him to go to church with us on Palm Sunday and Good Friday. Good Friday he was out about two hours and I suppose he may have been in the

neighborhood but I can't say.  Patrick had picked up mom for me and when they got back Patrick looked like he had smoked a joint.  I reprimanded him, mentioning this wasn't part of our deal.

     But Palm Sunday I will never forget. 

     Amy said Mike should go to church with us, she said it wasn't fair for her to have to go every Sunday and not Mike.  I looked at him as if to say, she is right you know.  Then I saw it in his eyes,  he couldn't wait till we left!  He told Amy to leave him alone, he would go on Easter Sunday and not today. PERIOD. 

     I made her lay off of him, but I asked him, "you will be here when we get home, you won't go do anything stupid will you?"      

"Just go!" He said.  "I'll be here!" 

     I knew when I walked out the door he wasn't going to be there when I got back.  He didn't surprise me either, when I came home he was gone. 

     I think about six or seven that evening he came rushing in and went to his room and called me in there. 

     "Mom I need to borrow ten dollars!"  He pleaded. 

"What!  Do I look insane to you, do you really think I'm going to give you money so you can continue this destruction?  No I'm not giving you s**t!  Just forget it, your home now."  I said. 

     "But Mom I owe them, I've gotta take them ten dollars!"  He said. 

     "You owe them?  Good if you don't take it back I guess you can't go there anymore!"  I said. 

     "No, I have to take it, they will find me."  He was begging me now.  "Look Mike, your wild, how can I give you money and live with myself, how do I know you owe it and are not just trying to get one more rock?"  Oh my God please help me with this.  I tried to call Beth to ask her what to do, she wasn't home!  Damn, I have to make a decision, how can I justify this!  I paced the floor saying NO! NO! NO! It's wrong!  I know this would be wrong!  Every fiber of my being was screaming NO! DO NOT GIVE HIM ANY MONEY! 

     He pleaded, "mom I have to go give them the money I owe, they will find me, I will be back in ten minutes mom, please mom, please?" 

     For about fifteen minutes I paced, tried to call Beth, no answer, paced some more.  Finally I got a ten dollar bill out of my wallet and held it in my hand.  Still I hadn't decided to give it to him, stupid as it sounds I literally struggled with myself, my hand stretching out toward him and pulling back, I was in tears.  I know enough to listen to my gut instinct.  But the struggle continued, he promised and swore he would go give it to them and come right home.  He never reached out for the money, he stood there in amazement watching me have this struggle with myself, listening to me.

     "I could be doing something very wrong because of me giving you this money I could never see you again, why are you making me a part of this s**t!  I never thought that you would ever put me in a position like this.  How could I live with myself now, helping you hurt yourself?"  Then my hand with the ten dollar

bill in it stretched itself out to his hand and he was gone!

     I looked at the clock on the wall to see if he would be back in ten minutes.  You've heard of time standing still, I don't think I've ever seen time move so slowly, it seemed like forever. 

     When I finally heard his car coming down the street I thanked God, and again I prayed for him to help my son fight this demon and grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

     When he came down from that high he told me how sorry he was that he put me in that position.  He said he would work hard to stay clean and sober, you know, the usual.  

     I told him that it had hurt me very much to be a part of his destruction I asked him never to put me in that position again.  For a while he did fine, going to meetings, working, handling life's daily problems with a shrug of the shoulders.