Hear It's Your Birthday...

My youngest son is missing. Not that he isn't in town or lost in some wilderness, run away or some other catastrophic event.

He is lost in the wilderness of addiction and he's chosen crack cocaine as his fallback. When given an ultimatum to choose either family or crack, he chose crack.

Some would say we must be terrible parents to give up on our son. Those who have endured the terror and horror of a child's addiction know what the feelings are. My son has tried treatment, been educated about addiction, recovery and all aspects, believe me. He has the knowledge. We're now going on over 20 years of my son being involved in street drugs. Sunday was his birthday. We had a party for him and my daughter-in-law for their birthdays.

He never returned a call and didn't show up despite messages being left by my wife....his mother. We last saw him on Father's Day. I could tell he was jonse-ing about midway through the dinner get together. Then he inexplicably decided he had to go over to his friend's house. His friend has been caught up in the steam-roller of his addiction almost as long as my wife and me. He's my son's boss. He came back later but soon left telling me he loved me. I told him I loved him. I haven't seen him since.

Somehow the friend thought by "controlling" my son's money, he could control his addiction. Thing is, an addict will look you in the face and lie his ass off to manipulate getting his drug. He's controlled by the rush and the lifestyle. He'll deny it. He'll tell you he hates what he's doing. But when push comes to shove, an addict will brush off groups or treatment to go back to the pipe. He'll lie to his parents and other family members. He'll lie to what few friends he still has left.

I tried the money control thing. He lied time and again about why he needed money for things like groceries, gas, work items and on and on and on. I loved him but I didn't much like my son as he was. As he is. What parent could like a child who is smart enough to know he's slowly killing himself but like some fucking moth attracted to a flame continues on his fatal way?

I once wrote an article about parents lying awake at night in dread and worry because their child was in combat in one of this nation's insane wars. I had some insight about how they must feel since I was a combat vet but more importantly.....every time the phone rings, night or day. there is a part of me that dreads answering for fear it will be the bad news that I've come to expect for my son. Between memories of insane events of war and wondering about the whereabouts of my son, I lie awake during the night quite often.

Some theorize an addict or alcoholic benefits from always having a support system that will unconditionally accept where their life is at the moment. Done that. It made us angry and feeling like we were being used. We were being used. You see, an addict is a narcisscist. Everything is about them....and their drug. They think they know the pain they put others through but ultimately they only think of their own pain and rather than endure go get high. Addiction is an illness. So is diabetes. Addicts and diabetics have to treat their illness or die. Treatment is hard work and painful. It's easier to go get high.

Yeah, I am angry. I'm angry that my son can't get the treatment he needs unless he can put up over ten grand to enter a residential treatment program. I'm angry my son has reached the point where he has chosen his drug over family and friends. But ultimately ......in all things, individuals must make choices. Parents can't make choices for adult children. And parents have to move on to not go down the addiction rabbit hole that never has an answer.

For all those sanctimonious folks who say "that will never happen to my kid", beware. Addiction hits all socio-economic groups. Or haven't you been reading the gossip rags like NATIONAL ENQUIRER?

If I could, I'd guide my son to a path he can find true happiness, peace and a feeling of some security. I have always had that wish in my heart and mind for him. I've prayed until I've come to realize my prayers will not be answered. My faith in God has been tested. My son's addiction and the insane wars have caused me to lose my faith. Waiting for God's intervention is a big fantasy for me. One day I suddenly realized I was believing in a fairytale.

And so it goes. Happy Birthday, son. We love you.



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