Believe it, or not.

He called last night. Around 9pm. Funny how I knew it was him, even though the caller ID said 'out of area'. Hubby answered, and put it on speakerphone. There was a lot of background noise, and my broken ears could pick up only little snippets. He said he would find out in about 1/2 hour if there would be a detox bed for him today - it was still day time in Sydney. He still has no plans to continue treatment after detox. Says he has a job lined up, and will save enough money to go to New Zealand. To start anew. Again. Running away. Again. Just as the conversation was coming to an end, my broken ears pricked up - I heard the word 'money'. Yes, his cousin L has given him some money. Not much - $20 here, $40 there. Said he needed it for his prescription medication, which was only available during certain hours, and L was working during those hours, so gave A the cash instead. I left the room. Took the dogs out for their nightly constitution. I did not want to wait around for any more lies. Perhaps he was telling the truth. Probably not. This caused an argument between hubby and me afterwards. Hubby believes everything that A tells us. I believe nothing. I wish we could find a middle ground, and know what to believe, and what not to believe. Today is another day.

Clime Every Mountain

Yesterday I climbed a mountain. Literally. I guess by Canadian standards, this mountain is really only a hill, but it has earned the name of mountain. I climbed to the top with two companions and a frolicking dog. I found it strange, that despite over 50 years of smoking cigarettes (I quit a year and a half ago), I was way ahead of, and less out of breath, than my human companions who have never smoked. Is this what stress does to you? I had plenty of time to reflect on my life situation during the many instances of waiting for my friends to catch up with me. As I waited, I compared A's relapse now, with how things were when we first discovered his addiction 10 years ago.
Then: A was still living at home. Hubby's job took him out of town during the work week, and was not around to see A's constant, erratic behavior. I suspected drug use well before it was actually out in the open. I vividly remember questioning him about it one night, and he spat in my face - "What kind of fucking bitch mother are you to even THINK such a thing!?" Hubby sided with A saying "Yeah, WTF??" When I went on to list the string of events that led to my question, I was told in no uncertain terms that these were just normal teenage boy things. I should not bring my clinical nursing judgements into our home. He was almost 17 at the time. It would be another full and horrendous year later before the truth finally tumbled out. I will never forget that phone call at work from my distraught hubby. I remember being totally blown away that it was heroin that had claimed my son. I knew drugs were involved, but had no idea it was something so sinister, so evil.
Now: I never saw the signs leading up to his relapse, though I can clearly see them now. I kick myself for this.  I have not had to endure A's erratic behavior  - that has been thrust upon K and her family, who have treated A as their own son, for 6 years. They are all devastated. I understand their devastation. My heart cries for K - not only has she had to deal with A the addict, but she has also lost the love of her life, just as I lost my son all those years ago. When news of his relapse started arriving in our in-box a week ago today, I was wondering if this would be as bad as the last time. I have cried mountains of tears. But I feel safe. I am stronger now. I know I cannot fix this for A. He needs to fix this for himself. We will be there when he is ready. I don't believe he is ready yet. We will all climb many more mountains I'm sure.
Then: There was very little help for parents. We were assigned a counselor from the local health agency. This counselor appeared to have more problems than we did. She was fired two weeks later for sleeping with her boss. There was very little information available on the internet. I had very supportive friends, but they could not begin to understand the tortures that I was enduring. None of them had had to travel this road for themselves. I felt very much alone.
Now: My counselor is an old colleague who is now the local detox nurse. She has also traveled this road. Several of my friends, are now also traveling this road as well. It is going to be hard telling them about A's relapse, as he has been the person who had held their hope. I am able to write about my experiences, and read about others' experiences.  There are many of us traveling this road. I am not alone.
A is still not communicating with me, or his little sister D, with whom he has always been extremely close. Here is his last communication with his dad, via FB on May 25, 2012 -
I know dad I know I have been in and out of places for the last three days I know what is available .. Thanks for everythin I appreciate it ... I don't know how this happened again I was going so good and it just fell apart I still can't understand how - I'm better than this ... I truly am ... Anyhow, I am going to detox next week at a center and have been offered a job ... I am going to save up as much ad I can and go overseas for awhile - I don't know were yet maybe Thailand were drugs are just plain illegal and life is cheap ... Anyhow I love you xx 
I think these words ring hollow. I think it was his trip to Thailand last year that started him on his downhill slide. Drugs may be illegal in Thailand, but they are still there, and from my understanding, easily obtainable. He needs to face up to his problems, and not run away from them. 
I will stay strong. I will climb every mountain. I will ford every stream. I'm not sure I will follow every rainbow in search of the impossible.

Sucked In

I don't really think it's a roller coaster ride I have once again been led to, as mentioned yesterday. I like roller coasters and love the feel of the speedy descent after the slow climb to the top. That, to me is exhilarating. This next journey does not hold any promises of exhilaration.  I think more than being on a roller coaster, I have been sucked into the vortex of a whirlpool. Only this time, I will not let myself get sucked down to the bottom. I can see a tiny bit of light out the end... I just need to navigate the maze through the spirals of broiling waters.  Is this going to be easier, with him 12,000 miles away in Australia?? Or will this only make things more difficult? Should we bring him back home? But back to what? I am unable to have him in my house again. Memories of past experiences have come flooding back... how he pounded his little brother's head on the tiled floors... how he emptied out all our bank accounts... how he stole the last mementos of my late parents... how he pushed me over several times, the last time pushing me down the stairs... how he stole my camera just as I was starting out my photography business... how I was attacked by one of his 'friends' when I went looking for him.  No, I cannot have him back in my house. At least I feel safe with him so far away. But how to help him there? I have contacted a friend of mine in Sydney (thank god for re connections with Facebook), who is a psych nurse, and have asked her for some information regarding emergency mental health assessment, detox and rehab facilities down there.   We have contacted a local counselor here, seeking guidance. Things may be a little easier this time around - we no longer have other children at home. Hubby has just retired, and I am still of work on disability for my profound hearing loss. I will be going back sometime in the very near future, but for now, I am able to concentrate my energies on myself and my family.