It’s a mess
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When one
thinks it can’t get worse, it can. And it does.
This coming
February 20 would have been my son’s 6th sobriety birthday.
I considered
a thousand different ways of talking about this and each one led to, “Just
vomit it out.”
In “Looking
out my back door” I write about what is pertinent in my life. And I vowed to be
honest with myself and honest with you.
My son, Ben,
this man who is super intelligent with a computer mind, this man with such a
big heart that a year ago, he gave up a month of his life to come to Mexico to care
for me when I needed it, this man slipped off the rails. This man I love more
than my own life.
I’m so angry
that I could chew nails and spit tacks, each tack to nail his hide to the wall
after I peal it off his body with a dull bread knife.
Nearly ten
years ago my son decided to try out the world of mind-altering chemicals and
lost his job, his wife, his home, his daughter, his family, his self-respect.
His mind.
Of course
eventually Ben landed in jail long enough and low enough to ask to enter an
intensive in-jail treatment program. A year later he was out of jail, still in an
intensive out-patient part of the same program for another year.
Over time he
got a job, began paying debts, cleaning up his life, got a home, got a
girlfriend, got his family back. Six years, six years clean and sober and now
this. There is no explanation.
A couple
months ago Ben landed in the ER with coronavirus, later followed by seizures.
Then a brief reprieve, as far as I know. Then a few days ago, back in the ER
with seizures again. The hospital sent him home. They do a blood test, first
thing, you know. Which came first, the alcohol or the seizures?
And my heart
is broken. The first night of realization I soaked my pillow with tears that leaked
from my eyes through no volition on my part.
I’ve been
here before. I know I cannot carry this burden alone. First I talked with my
daughter and then with a couple very dear friends in Washington who are close
to both me and to my son, who’ve been down this road with me. They will move
forward with intervention, if possible.
Each morning
I go outside to walk-the-lanes to air out my head. Along the way, I meet one
neighbor and then another. I cannot hide my grief and despair. They ask, “How
are you?” I cannot answer, “Fine.” “Fine” is perhaps the most frequent lie
told. I tell my story.
One neighbor
then shared his story about his wife’s nephew. Yes, I remember him, I said. He
used to be around here all the time. Well, his mother is just waiting for him
to overdose. I am not alone.
Another
friend told me about his daughter’s fiancé, now gone, leaving a trail of tears.
I am not alone.
Yet another
told me about a sister’s husband, who also re-entered that dark world after a
time of sobriety. I am not alone.
I doubt
there is anybody not touched by this horrible disease of
alcoholism-and-drug-addiction, all the same in how it affects the vulnerable
person and his/her family. And to have it strike during the coronavirus plague,
a double whammy, more than we can bear.
There is
always a chance that early intervention will shake my son back onto his path.
It’s up to him. Twenty-four hours of sobriety is better than the alternative.
I share this
story with you because I cannot bear it alone. If my story helps even one
person who also has a family member in a world of hurt, then it is worth me
baring my soul.
We are not
alone. And we do have help if we choose to use it. We might find help among our
friends and neighbors, at church, at a group program, a treatment center just
for us. This is a disease. There is no shame. A secret aired is a secret with
no power to hurt us.
I keep in
mind the Three Cs of Alanon: I (You) didn’t cause it. I (You) cannot control
it. I (You) cannot cure it.
I am
completely powerless over this dread disease. There is help for you and me just
as there is for the addict/alcoholic. Even with my heart broken, with tears on
my cheeks, I can find serenity in the midst of this chaos. I love my son with a
never-ending love. And we are not alone.
Sondra
Ashton
Looking Out My
Backdoor
January 21,
2021
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