- Personal Health Information & Self-Help
Please Stop Doing This
I was taking a nice nap today when there was a knock at my door. Of course it figures, I take a nap and the phone doesn't stop ringing or someone comes to the door. It is my son and his girl. They come in, sit down, smoke a cigarette and we talk some. I go in the kitchen to get a drink and I hear a noise by my front door. I hear his girl say, Babe what are you doing? As I go to see the commotion, I see my son standing at my hall closet holding on to the door frame. He is shaking all over. I put my hand on his shoulder and say son what is wrong. He looks at me and I know. He's doing drugs again. It seemed a minute ago he was fine now he can't even focus on me and says, nothing Mom. Then proceeds to try to walk down the hall to the bathroom. He falls into the wall, knocking pictures off and reaching for a grip on the door he pulls other things down. I think My God he is going to die right here.
I have seen my son on drugs, never like this. I begin to cry as my heart is wrenched thinking of what he is doing to himself. His heart, brain, liver, kidneys, his spirit. 10 years this has been going on. Pot, cocaine, liquid codeine, ecstacy, zanax, vicodin, he would drink a a case of beer in one night, many nights a week. These are just to name a few. Now he says he doesn't do these anymore, he just does one thing every now and then. What that is he won't tell me. He says he just does it for the high. What high? You can hardly walk and you look like your about to pass out. That's not high. Why do you do this to yourself? He passes out in the chair, all the while his girl is saying, he's fine. Don't tell me he's fine I can see with my own eyes he's not fine. She gets in the other chair and falls asleep. So here I am checking him every few minutes to make sure he is breathing and feeling his hand to make sure his body is still warm. Takes me back to when he was a baby and I was so afraid of crib death. I was constantly waking to check on him, make sure he was breathing, running my finger lightly on his toe to make him move just a little so I could go back to sleep.
Now here he is almost 26 and I am doing almost the same thing. I sat and cried til I couldn't cry anymore. Seeing, my son that I love so much, in this condition. Wondering if he will stop breathing. Wondering how long will he do this to himself. I have tried numerous times to talk to him over the years, asking him what if? You are worrying about the wrong thing Mom, I am fine. I have heard that so many times that I know when he is going to say it. I have resigned myself to the fact that one day it's a possibility that.... I can't even write it. Some of you will say you should have done something way back when he started. I didn't know when he started, his own Father did drugs with him behind my back. By the time I did find out he was on a mission to do as he please, when he pleased. You raise your kids the best you can and then at some point they start making their own choices and decisions. You can not watch over them 24/7. I blamed myself for a while, but no more. These are his choices, not mine. I cannot begin to tell you the tears I have shed, pleading with God to take away his addictions. No he doesn't do what he used to do, but he is still doing something and it isn't good for him.
He finally wakes up from his stupor and he is apolgizing over and over. I tell him apologizing to me isn't going to save your life. And don't tell me you are sorry when you are going to walk out that door and do it again. It's your body and God willing you have many more years left to be in that body, don't ruin it for when you do grow up. I begin to cry again. I ask him softly, son please stop doing this. His head is down and he is slowly shaking his head no. He still cannot walk well and asks me not to look at him. As they head for the door I ask him not to come back to my house when he is on drugs. I love you son and I cannot bear to see you this way. He gives me a hug and a kiss. See you later Mom. My heart hurts, missing the little boy he once was, praying for the man he is becoming.