Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you are so out of place that it’s almost comical? I mean, it absolutely would be laughable- if it wasn’t so gosh darned tragic. I found myself in that kind of place in early January, of 2023. It was quiet in the house- I had spent a WHOLE long day at work, and as a high school English teacher in the early days back to school from Christmas break, you can just imagine how exhausting those days are. I was wrapping up my grading for the evening and beginning to think about settling down on the couch for a bit of mindless television before turning in for the night. Life was pretty weird at that point in time. I wasn’t quite sure exactly what to do with this big, and VERY empty house… all three of our children were grown, and for the most part “gone.” As I sat at the kitchen table, I heard the garage door open, and I looked up to see my middle son walk into the house and set his backpack down on the foyer bench. He said “Hi,” and walked into the bathroom. I didn’t think much of him “stopping by,” even though it was later in the evening. I just figured that he was around the house and maybe he wanted to stop in and pick up some things, or grab a quick bite. He had recently moved into a lovely little townhouse in mid-town Detroit with his long-term girlfriend, and was planning on starting his masters program at Wayne State University. When he came out of the bathroom, I said, “Hey! What’s going on? Would you like something to eat?” and as he came over to the table I could see the heaviness in his eyes, and he said, “Mom… I need to talk to you.” “Oh yeah, for sure. What’s up?” as I set aside the grading that for CERTAIN was going to have to be finished for the evening now. And then he dropped the atomic bomb. I had no warning… I had not a thought in my mind that I was going to hear the next things that came out of his mouth. He simply looked at me and said, “I’m going to need to stay here for a while…” and I said, “Of course you can, this is your home. You can stay as long as you need to stay. Why do you need to stay?” I naively asked him as I figured that he and his girlfriend had gotten into a fight and he needed some space, or perhaps she did… he looked at me straight in my eyes, and for a moment, before he said it- time stood still. I saw the beautiful grey eyes of my toddler before me, laughing and filled with love. I saw the brooding dark eyes of my moody, but incredibly talented teenager before me, dark and a little bit dangerous. I saw the eyes of my handsome 24 year-old son before me, scared and filled with pain… “Mom, I need to stay here, and I need your help- because I am addicted to drugs.” That was the moment that my life changed forever. I think I stopped breathing for a minute and my brain stopped taking information in. His voice instantly sounded garbled and far away- like he was inside a giant glass tube talking to me from the inside and I could barely hear anything or see anything. I probably said something stupid like, “Ummm… okay? What does that mean?” or “What are you talking about? What kind of drugs are you addicted to?” But the funny thing is, I honestly can’t remember my reaction. For a day that is so indelible in my memory- for a day that changed my life forever and completely- for a day that has been the MOST devastating of all days that I have EVER experienced… I can’t even remember what I said in response to that. I can barely remember what I felt- but I know that every day since that day there has been a pain that never leaves me. Some days the pain is dull, other days it screams in my ears and grips my heart with fear and my mind with confusion. Some days the pain drives me to be stronger than I ever thought I could be, most days it brings me to my knees, and I find myself sobbing uncontrollably in the shower, or again at this damn kitchen table. This is the pain of a journey that I never asked to go on, a road that I have never desired to travel, but every day I have to walk it, and every day my heart bleeds from the suffering of this journey. It is a pain that isolates and tears apart even the strongest and staunchest of allies. It is a pain that leaves me breathless and wishing for the ability to just trade places with him so that I can do the work that needs to be done… so he can be whole, so he can be healthy. It is a pain that strips my senses and incapacitates my brain like no other. It is searing, it is hot, it is crippling, and it is tangible- every second of every day.
It is this pain that has brought me to this place today. I have learned over the course of the last two and a half years that I am, sadly, not alone in this pain. I have also learned that this pain can and does get worse- if that is even imaginable. So this is my attempt at catharsis. It is my hope that in sharing some of my stories- some of my frustrations, some of my challenges, some of my victories, some of my pain, that others can also share and that we can help each other. I don’t have any answers. This isn’t a blog that is meant to be from an “expert,” by no means. I am wandering and lost, I am crippled and incapacitated, I am terrified and timid- but I am hoping that in voicing all that I am, others out there will feel comfortable to voice what they are as well, and that together we can provide support, strength, love and stamina while we work to understand and pray to heal.
