Embarking on Adventures–some good, some not
Posted on April 21, 2008
Dear Readers,
Yes, it’s been a long time. As I’ve mentioned before, silence on the blog is usually a sign that I am overwhelmed. This silence is no exception. About six weeks ago, our family was plunged into crisis. Our son, who is seventeen, went from “normal teenage attitude and rebellion” to “signs of serious problems.” He began to get verbally abusive, destructive of our property, and began stealing regularly from the family and everyone else. (Three shoplifting charges in eight days!) As things spiraled out of control, I was thrust into full crisis management mode. Nothing extraneous got done and that means I didn’t read blogs or write them. It was all I could do to keep my son safe (enough) and meet the most basic requirements of my ministry.
Just when we were all at the breaking point, he admitted that he had a substance abuse problem. Not a small one, but a serious problem with a very addictive illegal drug. He recognized the problem and asked for treatment. (Of course, that was in part because it was becoming very clear he was going to end up in the juvenile criminal system. Rehab is better than detention.)
There are some good things in this: he has recognized he has a problem; he is under 18, so we have more options for intervention; the drugs explain some behavior that was truly scary. But mostly, dealing with the fact that a child is addicted to drugs is extremely painful. And on top of the emotional consequences, there are financial, legal and relational ones.
Just to give you a hint of what I mean…he gave his cell phone to a dealer in exchange for drugs. Wherever that phone ended up, it eventually had over $8000 of international calls charged to it. Because he didn’t tell us it was “missing,” we did not know to report it as lost/stolen to the cell phone company, leaving us liable for the charges. To their credit, the cell phone company is forgiving almost $5000. But that still leaves us with a $3000 cell phone bill. And that’s only a small part of the financial impact. There are legal fees, fines, treatment costs…
I’m not writing this so you will feel sorry for us and there is no paypal button for you to make donations. We will manage. We have money in our pensions, if worse comes to worse. What I really want this story to do is help people understand what families like ours are going through. Not just the primary stressors, but the secondary costs of parenting a child who has become an addict. I hope it will help all of us grow in compassion to know and remember this story.
The hardest thing about this whole situation is the deep parental desire to have someone to blame–usually myself. I am having to fight hard to keep the words “if only…” out of my vocabulary. (If only we’d seen the signs earlier. If only we’d made him keep going to that counselor. If only we’d been more strict. If only I hadn’t moved the family to Utah. If only I hadn’t taken that sabbatical. If only I’d invested in ten years worth of duct tape and kept him immobile throughout his teens.)
As they say in Al-anon: “You didn’t cause it. You can’t change it. You can’t cure it.” What we can do is love our son and do whatever we can to be on the side of recovery. That means setting some hard limits, as well as providing support for his treatment. From a recovery website: “You discover that you have no power, whatsoever, even with money, to stop it, contain it, fix it! You cannot love, hate, fight, beat, guilt-trip, cry or scream it away.”
It is very hard to face that I can’t protect or save my son from this. Even though every day of parenting has been another lesson in letting go, this is excruciating. Almost as excruciating as finding another thing that is missing, stabbed, or destroyed because of his addiction and the behaviors it caused. I think, down deep, I have always believed that my love alone could protect and save my child. Even in this moment, I want that to be true. But it’s not. And all those parents who have lost children to this disease loved them just as much as I love him. Welcome, compassion.
All of this has left me pretty drained and eventually, sick. I am recovering from whatever virus took advantage of my stress, but I have fallen behind. And tomorrow I leave town for a very important conference that I’ve been helping plan for over two years. It is not a vacation and I don’t know if I am relieved or afraid to get away for awhile. Both, I guess. If things stay peaceful at home, I will probably be glad to have some time to be away and “catch my breath” emotionally.
A week away means more things won’t get done at church and at home. My own addiction to seeming perfectly competent is being challenged. I know very well that my congregation is willing and able to step in and minister to each other. It’s what I’ve been very intentional about making happen, since I believe a good minister teaches the church everything they know. I don’t believe I should be indispensable in any area of church life. So even as I feel bad for not being able to do my job as well as I’d like, I feel proud that the church is truly living up to our goal of shared ministry. Letting go.
So, all I can say to those of you that still check in here now and then: I’ll do my best to keep this blog up to date. My best will probably be less than I’d like, but that is just where I find myself. Until next time, your prayers and good thoughts are always welcome.
Rev. Sean
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10 Responses to “Embarking on Adventures–some good, some not”
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Dear Sean, you and your family are in my heart and my prayers.
Please remember to have compassion for yourself, as well. May you get through this time of difficulty with at least a little grace.
*hugs*
and prayers
and good thoughts
I’m sorry, Rev. Sean. What you can’t do right now, let it go both in reality AND in your head. The old thing about the Buddhist monks and “I left her back at the river,why are you still carrying her?”
Not that I’m preaching to myself or anything. (avoids meeting anyone’s eyes …)
Rev Sean — You have my thoughts and prayers. It’s a hard thing to go through for all of you. I hope it all turns out well.
–Kim
I’ll be keeping you and your family in my prayers.
m
I’m so sorry, Sean. Hugs and prayers for all of you.
Hugs… and not those whimpy ones either… big hugs.
Sean,
Remembering so well your loving concern and worry when I saw you at MDD. I am indeed thinking of you and yours and praying for healing for the whole family.
Erica
I know that words or cyber hugs can not even begin to help or hold your heart for a while so you don’t have to bear it all, but that is all I have right now. I will keep you and your family in my prayers and thoughts.