For years I lived in self imposed isolation while I obsessively searched for the answer to this question: How can I stop my son from using drugs? I couldn’t stop thinking about where he was and what he was doing. At home I felt like I was living with a person I didn’t know. He was sleeping all day and out all night. Our communication had degraded to me interrogating him about every move; normal conversation was gone. I was consumed by a toxic mix of anger, fear, and guilt that was slowly destroying our once loving and trusting relationship. Like so many parents, I worked myself into an emotional frenzy that never let up. I believed if I loved him harder and monitored his every move, I could keep him safe from all of the bad choices he was making. But what I didn’t realize at the time was that my son’s blossoming addiction wasn’t mine to control or fix.

Hitting My Rock Bottom

One day I was driving to work and, as usual, all my thoughts were focused on my son and what I could do to get him to stop taking drugs. I could not come up with a solution no matter how much thought and effort I put in. An advertisement for a drug rehab center came on the radio that caught my attention. I wrote down their phone number. The thought of sending my son to a rehab scared me. Considering this as an option would confirm what I knew deep down to be true: he was already on the road to a serious addiction. But I was desperate for help. What I was doing to try and stop his drug use clearly was not working. In fact, things were getting worse and I was watching his life spin out of control. After years of keeping the secret about my son’s drug use, I had hit my rock bottom both mentally and physically. I couldn’t keep on living in a constant state of worry. Something needed to change.

The bridge metaphor resonates with the author’s journey.

Road to Parent Partnership Meetings

Out of desperation I called the phone number I had written down. The person who answered the phone told me about a local meeting for parents who have a child that struggles with addition, and that there was a meeting that evening. I went into work that morning and tried to come up with an excuse for why I couldn’t go to the meeting. Over the course of the day, however, I began to feel a glimmer of hope about my situation. Maybe the people at the meeting could give me the answer to my question: How can I stop my son from using drugs?

Thankfully, I found the courage to go to the meeting that night where I was warmly welcomed by the group. There was a circle of chairs in the room and we took our places to start the meeting. The facilitator of the group was a parent. She went around the circle and asked individuals if they wanted to share details about their child’s story or give an update on how they and their child were doing. As each parent spoke openly and honestly about their child’s addiction story I instantly could relate to almost all aspects of what they were saying. When it was my turn to speak, I said out loud for the first time that my son was addicted to heroin, and told them about the things I had been experiencing while trying to deal with my son. As I looked around the circle I saw parents acknowledge what I was saying with understanding smiles. After the meeting, parents came to me to offer support and talk about the resources that they found helpful. I could feel hope starting to grow inside me. I began to see that  there were things I could do to help my son.

Discovering that Addiction Impacts the Entire Family

My whole way of thinking about addiction and my relationship with my son began to change when I started to regularly attend Parent Partnership meetings. In that safe circle of support, I discovered something profound: Addiction doesn’t just affect the person using drugs; it seriously impacts the entire family. My husband, me, and our other son had become collateral damage to the choices my son who was using was making in his life. To keep the peace, we avoided confrontations and lived our lives in the chaotic situations that often occurred in our home. Eventually my other son “checked out” of the sibling relationship, wanting nothing more to do with his brother. I was overwhelmed with feelings of guilt and shame as my family was falling apart. I had lost myself trying to fight my son’s addiction alone, and in the process had neglected my own well-being and that of my family.

Learning Through Lived Experience

Through Parent Partnership meetings, I learned that while I couldn’t control my son’s choices, I could change my own behaviors and attitudes toward him. That shift was lifesaving. It gave me permission to stop trying to manage his addiction and start focusing on what I could control, my own life. Parents in the group actually had some joy and serenity in their lives, independent of whether their child was sober or not. I wanted what they had, but making changes didn’t happen overnight for me.

As I increased my understanding of the disease of addiction, I began to see that the way I was showing love to my son was leading him away from recovery. I thought love meant rescuing him, shielding him from consequences, doing things for him that he should be doing for himself, and doing everything in my power to put a protective guard rail around him to keep him safe. I was pouring more energy into his recovery than he was. But doing these things was allowing him to continue to feed his addiction. The parents in the meeting encouraged me to try different and healthier ways to show love and support to my son, even though some of the things they suggested were counterintuitive to all my parenting instincts!

Many of the parents shared personal examples of “counterintuitive love.” Through their lived experiences I saw that it was possible to love without supporting addictive behaviors. I learned the importance of  setting and holding healthy boundaries, even when those boundaries seemed cruel or uncaring. I learned that saying “no” to requests that lead away from recovery is something that I needed to find the courage to do. I had to be willing to allow my son to experience the consequences of their choices. The thought of trying some of these things was terrifying to me. I was filled with fear of what might happen to my son if I wasn’t there to save the day, and the guilt I would feel if something bad did happen. I never felt pressured or judged by the group for decisions I made (or didn’t make) to support my son. They gave gentle encouragement, knowing that making changes is a slow and often difficult process. Their advice was to make decisions when I was accepting of the potential outcome of that decision. Some decisions are much harder than others!

The first boundary I set was done with lots of support and guidance from parents who had done it themselves. Setting a boundary felt unnatural and uncaring. I had learned, though, that boundaries are not punishment directed at my son. Boundaries provide protection for me. Boundaries protect my emotional health and create space for my son to take responsibility for his recovery. Boundary setting allowed me time and energy to work on my own recovery. As I gained clarity in my thinking, I accepted that my son had to make his own decisions, even when those decisions broke my heart. There were days when it felt like he loved drugs more than he loved me. I learned that addiction had hijacked his brain and the person I was talking to was not my son.

The support group parents taught me to always say “I love you” to my son because no matter what was happening, I did love the person hidden behind the mask of addiction. My love is unconditional, but there are conditions on what I will support. I will only support things that lead to recovery. That distinction has helped me make better decisions where my son is concerned and realize that our relationship is bigger than his disease.

Parent Partnership Truths

Parent Partnership meetings have taught me some valuable life lessons that have allowed peace and joy back into my life. Recovery is a family affair. When one person struggles, everyone struggles. Healing starts when we acknowledge that and seek help for all family members. Boundaries are not abandoned. Setting limits doesn’t mean you stop caring, it means you care enough to protect your own well-being so that you are able to steer your child toward recovery.

There is always hope, no matter how dark it can seem. The Parent Partnership meetings are a living embodiment of the practice of hope. In these meetings there are success stories of kids that have found recovery and are living full and productive lives. There are parents who have found the courage to face their child’s addiction and who are willing to help other parents change their attitudes and behaviors so that they can provide meaningful support to their child.

 

Sue Crathern is one of Be a Part of the Conversation’s cherished parent volunteers. She leads regular Parent Partnership meetings and offers her lived experience and support as the parent of someone who has struggled with addiction, helping other parents find recovery and healing, too.