The Other Shoe Has Dropped

Posted on December 22, 2009. Filed under: Parent of an Addict, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , |

Junkie.  It was not a familiar word to me, not one I had any occasion to use.  It was more of an exotic reference, a hip term. In fact, I wasn’t quite sure what it meant.  I used to think of it in more remote, dramatic terms – as applied to some sketchy character in an artsy film, or attributed to one of those scroungy, homeless figures on the street corner, holding up their cardboard sign, hoping for . . . something.  Now, I’m realizing, it’s my daughter.

When I typed junkie into my Word dictionary, this message appeared:  “No results were found”.  Apparently, it’s not recognized in Webster’s. Wikipedia defined it as: (slang, pejorative) A narcotics addict, especially referring to heroin users.  And, of course, liar, criminal, prostitute, thief, victim, pathetic parasite on society, should also be included.  And, if you’re interested in the full gamut of drug vocabulary, you can go to:  I’m becoming bilingual.

My daughter is ‘safely’ ensconced in the cocoon of her drug house on the other side of town, curtains drawn, always dark inside. And I’m here, anticipating the next text from her that will completely ruin my Christmas, not that it isn’t already ruined.  When that text comes, it will be a personal test for me – a challenge to hold the ‘hard’ tough love line, or succumb to the more natural motherly instincts that want to rescue, protect, enable my child.  This is the real “Most-tested Mother’s Club” – – – the one with exorbitant membership dues.

She rehearsed what she’s supposed to say.  It doesn’t feel like
anything she would ever say.  Not a part she would get if she
had to audition.  Maybe that’s the key:  where (Hayley’s)
concerned, she should do the opposite of what feels right.
From Night Navigation, by Ginnah Howard

OK – in rereading this and other entries, I’m starting to sound like a victim myself.  So – – – for the next few days, I hope to publish posts that are more upbeat and positive.  Hmmmm – – – that will be a challenge, but one that I need to practice more often.  Gratitude – – – I am overdrawn in my “gratitude” account and need to make some deposits.

Make a Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

7 Responses to “The Other Shoe Has Dropped”

RSS Feed for Helplessly hoping . . . Comments RSS Feed

Last night I read this quote from Isak Dinesen: “All sorrows can be borne if you put them into a story or tell a story about them.” Perhaps this storytelling is what we do in groups that give us support, one-to-one with our friends, in our journals, and places like this blog. Telling the story helps us bear it. In THE HELP, a character says “What is truer than truth is the story”. So, we keep telling our story, learning more with each telling and making a deep connection with others and ourselves. Keep telling, Peg. We are listening.

Donna – your words are always so comforting to me – and, always, at just the right time. I am so lucky to have you in my life. You are right – – – telling our story helps us bear it. The vulnerability and intimacy built through sharing sorrow, uncertainty, and disappointment are powerful – and deeply felt – a connection that binds us in, perhaps, a more human, compassionate way. I am deeply grateful to you, dear friend. You not only listen to me on a daily/weekly basis, but also read my blog – things you’ve already heard, yet take the time to respond to in a more formal way, in this format. I know that other readers also benefit from your wisdom and gentle spirit. Thank you.

You brought tears to my eyes, my friend. Merry Christmas and I’ll be talking to you soon.

It is tough to let go. You feel like you are totally abandoning your child and of course, that is the least thing you want to do as a mother. I am trying to accept that she has a choice and can live her live the way she wants. My biggest concern are her two little kids. They deserve better. Not having any control is hard to accept. We do the best we can. I am determined that I will not let her drag me down and make my life miserable anymore. I try to focus on positive things one day at a time.
Merry Christmas.

I believe there are moments that all the parents of addicts feel like victims. I try to remember when I’m feeling that way that I’m victimized by the drug, and not by my son. And then I work hard to move up and on and prepare for the next wave of sadness or anger or depression that I might feel. As I make good choices in parenting (less enabling, more boundaries while still loving him), the waves of sadness, anger or depression come in smaller sets and I recover quicker. I am praying for you, your daughter and your family.

unfortunately, it’s a progression of hurt, followed by more hurt, and abandonment, along with anguish wondering if she is okay followed by relief that she is not right in front of you, followed by “i wish she was right in front of me so i know she is okay…” followed by “but if she was, my holiday would be full of “is she using”, is she dopesick, WHY is she on the phone whispering…is she trying to SCORE – where is she going????

it’s a long hard treadmill and there is not right or wrong. it just is.

I’m really sorry that Hayley has chosen this painful path.

There are no words of advice to help your pain.

All I can say is it DID help to regard my child as dead. It allowed me to detach enough that I could not be consumed by the whole thing.

It may not have been the RIGHT decision, but for me, it worked.

My prayers are with you. It doesn’t help to hide inside statistics and intellectualism. It keeps the whole thing on an academic level, true, but deep down, your heart stays broken.

I am so sorry you are expierencing this.Just do the best you can it’s impossible to do more.This may sound strange but I was glad I was the one who had to deal with addiction(alchol) not one of my childern.Don’t think I could have handled that.

Where's The Comment Form?

Liked it here?
Why not try sites on the blogroll...

%d bloggers like this: