Friday, April 15, 2011


Don’t ever let anyone tell you that it can’t get any worse.  Don’t ever think that it can’t get any worse.  Because it can.  You think you are at the bottom and that things are as bad as they can possibly get.  And then the bottom drops out and you find yourself at another bottom.  There is always another bottom.

At least there is when your 14 year old son is an addict.

I wrote thOSE things the night that my son quoted his drug history to us at Family Group Meeting. 

He was supposed to read it, not quote it.  He said that after he passed it off with the school teacher and therapist, he threw it away.  He claimed that he didn’t know he had to read it to us.  He never re-wrote it.  I’m sure he was hoping that he could just skip the part of the assignment where he told everything to us.  His therapist said that he really was terrified to tell us his drug history.

He started out by saying that we were going to be blown away by what we were about to hear.  He was very articulate and told us things that did blow us away.  The bottom dropped out on our world as we knew it.    

Our son not only used marijuana, he used almost everything that you can think of. 

These are the notes I took that night.


13 – weed, 1 – 2 times a week, then all the time
Played around with Aderol, Ritalin, Lortab
Alcohol now and then

Ecstasy quite a few times

None of my friends that you know.

Car hopping, hooking people up, friends just had it.

The next night at family therapy, he added “shrooms” and spice to his list of drugs.  I wondered if he left out heroin, too.  Heroin is as readily accessible as weed, but the therapist assured us that he has not used heroin.

Translation:  my son started drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes at age 12.  He started smoking weed and took prescription drugs at age 13.  Then, added cocaine, ecstasy, mushrooms, and spice at age 14.  He stole from unlocked cars (car hopping) and dealt drugs to other kids to pay for his own drugs.

We were so disappointed.
In him.
In ourselves.

2 1/2 years.  And we just found out about one drug—4 months before that night.

What did we miss?

Did I stop hugging him at age 12?  I don’t think I did.  But, now I think I didn’t hug him enough.  Did I give him a hug when he came home from school each day? 

I should have.

I should have smelled his clothes and searched his pockets every day.

It’s too late for that now.

I guess I could should on myself for the rest of my life and it wouldn’t change the reality now.

My son is really an addict.

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