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Parent of an Addict: What’s it Really Like?
Friday, April 15th, 2011
 “Be all you can be.” That’s The U.S. Army’s recruiting slogan. It also happens to be a necessary motto for every parent of an addict.
So what’s it really like raising a child with a drug problem?
It starts with letting go of the idea of having a “normal” life. Truthfully, it’s a far cry from the storybook life we all fantasized about once upon a time. Being a parent of an addict is about being more than you ever dreamed you could be. And most days it feels like you’re at war.
You quickly learn survival skills. Not just physical survival. Yes, those are necessary at times, but also emotional survival skills.
You learn to love someone that, by all accounts, is un-loveable. Being close to an addict is toxic, even for a parent. We are not immune to the symptoms of the disease. We just learn how to absorb the poisonous relationship and deal with the behaviors in a way that allows us to protect ourselves and do our best to protect our suffering child.
A parent finds a way to hold on to hope when your heart is being torn apart and all seems hopeless. But you never give up on hope — not for your child or yourself.
You find a way to survive in situations that you never dreamed you would encounter, such as visiting with your child through a glass wall surrounded by steel bars and cages. Or standing beside him as he lay in an emergency room bed while a very somber doctor explains the situation.
Miraculously, you find a way to detach yourself from your child’s actions that run counter to every value you hold dear and have taught him since he was a baby. You learn to manage your emotions when you know that your child is dealing in areas that you would not venture into without a police escort.
The world is upside down. Jail is good, freedom is dangerous. You find yourself asking or praying for the police to take your child into “protective custody.”
A parent of an addict lives EVERY moment, awake or asleep, in a love/hate relationship with the phone. If only the phone would ring and I could hear his voice just to know he is alive at this very moment. But, every time the phone rings your heart skips a beat, launching itself into your throat. Your stomach flip flops and your mind wonders: Is this “the call”?
Parents of addicts learn how to smile with friends and family. We need them for our own survival. We learn to allow them inside places that used to be only for us.
What’s it like for you being the parent of an addict? What survival skills you learned along the way?
Posted by Ron Grover | Filed under Addiction, Dealing with an Addicted Child, Taking Care of Yourself
16 Comments on “Parent of an Addict: What’s it Really Like?”
Susan Lea says:
April 17th, 2011 at 6:33 pm
This article really cuts to the quick. It’s painfully honest and frighteningly familiar to me and to my family. My survival skills are not always the best. Sometimes I have to escape from the situation, either physically or emotionally. I’m not always there for my child and sometimes I resent her. But these are a few things I do to survive:
Read Alanon literature. It can be uplifting when things feel overwhelming. And reading INTERVENE is also helpful.
Tell my child I love her. It makes both of us feel better.
Change my mind. I’m not always right. And some things that seem accurate one day don’t feel right on another day.
If I wake during the night feeling anxious and certain that something terrible has happened, I get up, take a few deep breaths, read a chapter of a book and remind myself that this has happened before and yet my worries were needless and that everything was fine.
I remind myself that somthing bad could happen but that’s true of anything in life. None of us knows what the future holds. And no matter what happens, I have an amazing child who has brought more joy to my life than pain.
Patti Herndon says:
April 18th, 2011 at 4:52 pm
Someone with a great, (and grateful) heart and a mind full of love and wisdom said, “Our children are not failed attempts at being us”.
Addiction is a journey. We can get growing and focus on the things that we can do that will bring momentum in the journey. The peace and empowerment in the journey is there. Gotta’ find it on our own, and with help of others.
We, as parents, need to be mindful of anger and resentment we hold regarding our addiction challenged loved one. It “ain’t” helpful. If you feel it, it WILL impose itself in interactions and in the recovery process. Our addiction disordered sons and daughters are highly intuitive, creative, and intelligent … (probably some of the most innovative “out of the box”, (lol…but, then, on second thought their perspective/approach is probably more “there is no box”) -type thinkers there are in the human personality/spirit spectrum.
Our addiction-challenged sons and daughters have incredible creativity. That creativity, that energy, is struggling to find its purpose, its calling, it’s problem-solving potential. We can help them with that if we get ourselves properly supported and properly prepped for the journey.
Our kids know when we are angry. And they sure as heck know when we are attempting to veil it. They know when we are passive-aggressively responding/reacting out of fear and resentment, and control -Hence our addiction-challenged sons/daughters response by way of “choice” to “avoid” us, our advisements and our rules/structure ;0).
We need to aim for an “appropriate/responsible for the circumstances” spirit of collaboration with our addiction-challenged son/daughter. That will also help serve balance and resolution to hose negative feelings we carry, equating to serve as increasing momentum for positive change.
We can only control our feelings. We can’t control anyone else’s thoughts or feelings. Our perspectives, our feelings “held” impact the thoughts and actions of our addiction-challenged sons/daughters, as well as the thoughts and perspectives of others in our sphere of influence, in our family, in our community, our society -Ripples in a pond.
Be open to sources of support, resources/information, peer and clinical, that encourages resolve of resentments and inspire creative problem-solving. It takes time to resolve these powerful feelings, no doubt. They didn’t develop overnight; they are not going to resolve in a moon or two, either.
A sense of hate of any kind for any reason is corrosive to your energy reserves. It’s up to us to seek out the kind of support that will result in us focusing on the things we can do toward the resolve of feelings we can overcome that can create “stall”. Those energies need to be rehabbed and freed up to use purposefully in the journey -building toward those strategies we can develop that will afford sustainable hope/energy/momentum/empowerment for the road ahead.
Making allowances for thoughts centered on all the bad things our addiction-challenged loved one did “to me” equates to that whole “stinkin’ thinkin’” concept. That thinking is counter-productive.
There are so many feelings experienced as the parent of a substance use disordered son/daughter. While venting feelings is cathartic/healing; it’s detrimental to momentum and peace if you get stalled in the negativity of anger/resentments -”FEAR”.
Your chosen information resources, peer and clinical supports, “should” result, in some amount of time, to your experiencing increasing ability to manage/balance those feelings and, then, ultimately, on to the “exchange” of those feelings onto other more recovery-purposed focuses. Doesn’t mean we don’t ever “feel” that stuff again…just means we get increasingly able in coping with those emotions so that we are not compelled to focus on them, or unintentionally pass the hopelessness in that negative energy to others. It’s a process that takes as long as it takes ;0).
Addiction is the journey. Recovery is the desination.
Terry Bradford says:
April 19th, 2011 at 4:05 pm
Hi everyone,
I cannot read others comments, it takes me back to reality that I don’t want or have time to go through right now. It is impossible for me to write a true and thorough comment to this. It is definately a long, 5 year story (the journey continues). I don’t know if it’s important to go over the details unless it will help someone. If you want to hear, please let me know and I will share with you.
My daughter is now 19 1/2. She was 15 when the disease of addiction reared it’s evil head. At the age of 16, our local NBC affiliate did a news story that aired on the 10 PM news. I was informed the station would let me know what day it would air. Little did I know, they would be airing ‘commercials’ on the story. I was in bed, reading and the TV was on in the background. I heard something startling, looked up, and there was my daughter’s blurred face and voice. My stomach sank. The written version of the story is still on the the statioin’s website;
http://www2.nbcactionnews.com/dpp/news/local_news/Teen-Addictions:-The-Untold-Story You can copy and paste to read it. My daughter’s name is changed to protect her identity.
I have many writings from the last 5 years. I haven’t shared them with anyone; mainly because no one in my family wants to read them.
Right now, my daughter is in jail for probation violation. Her charge and no contest plea was for possession of heroin.
Never in a million years would I have imagined any of this. Seven treatment centers, 100 days in a group home, 5 emergency room visits resulting ambulance rides to other hospitals, 1 coma from Tylenol, 270 days of time served, house arrest, missing person 4 times, 1 of which was on the nightly news and cadaveur dogs were sent to the house.
One year ago this week, I began going to Al-Anon. I attended 90 meetings in 90 days. In June, it will be one year that I have attended Nar-Anon meetings.
Last thing, throughout all of ‘this’, my daughter graduated from high school with her diploma. A real, valid high school diploma from an accredited school. She attended 8 different high school programs & schools. Shocking to say the least.
Blessings to all!
Patti Herndon says:
April 20th, 2011 at 6:22 am
Hi Terry,
And…blessings right back’atcha, sir.
Prayers lifted that your daughter is feeling increasing peace and hope regarding her circumstances… and that she is, by and by, gaining powerful and empowering wisdom and acceptance to use in her journey as she moves forward.
Gotta’ believe that she most certainly can move forward in increasing health and hope. It’s important to believe that. It’s important to express that, too…And OFTEN. That shared hope and belief also helps other parents traveling the same road. We’re right here.
In the spirit of sharing, since you bring it up? My son got his GED. A “real, valid, high school” equivalency ;0).
It’s encouraged and appropriate, “at times” (you’ll know when that is in your own circumstances as the parent of a son or daughter with addiction)to find “something” in these beyond difficult challenges whereby a sense of humor might be employed -in the name of stress relief toward a better balance of perspective. (Hence my mention of my sons GED ;0)
In my own 15 year journey as the parent of an incredible son, (a son who also happens to have a substance use disorder); I discovered that in being able to laugh, at least once in a while, about some of the experiences/aspects associated with the bewildering, scary realities that have come tandem to our addiction journey…I can’t help but recognize those times as serving in such a way as to deliver my spirit from the darkest downpour of storms to…well…partly cloudy with an 80 percent chance of showers ;0).
But, let me tell ya… I have been grateful for ANY amount of upgraded forecasting that my perspective allows. In addition, my son is grateful that his mom can laugh along the way, from time to time, too. Gratitude is a good, good thing.
Not a shock at all,(at least not to me), that my big-hearted, GED-havin’, exceedingly smart, creative son has even been known to permit himself a spirit-lifting chuckle, (ever now’anna’gin), about his challenges. Laughter…”It does a body good.”
This is “some” of what it has really been like… for me ;0)…
Addiction is the journey. (An uphill journey for sure. Something about that climb, though…Stretching ourselves toward better-lived, better-peaceful moments certainly can build up some hill’acious coping muscles – if we keep on keepin’ on.) Recovery is the destination.
“Our children are not failed attempts at being us”…Did I use that quote already? Oops, my bad…*cheeezygrin*
Okay…Here’s one I have not posted. An oldie but a goldie: “Seek not to understand that you may believe, but believe that you may understand.” -Saint Augustine (who was a very cool and righteous dude ;0)
Charlie says:
April 22nd, 2011 at 8:24 pm
Couldn’t agree more about the phone. At this point in our muddled, addicted, Lyme riddled lives, any call after 8pm sends my blood pressure into the stratosphere.
Like many posts, I am the parent of a drug addicted 20 yr old. My husband and I have navigated the ups and downs together but lately, the downs are feeling pretty deep.
My main issue seems to be that my son has a dual-diagnosis, which makes rehab centers and psych hospitals cringe. Two weeks ago, my son, covered in bruises, barefoot, with a large knot to the head, shows up at 10 pm, whacked out on something and screaming for help. I called adult detox centers all over the KC Metro area but got turned away because of his Lyme diagnosis (which causes craziness all on its own). After getting shut down over and over, my husband and I packed my raving son into the car and went to a local intake hospital in our area, Shawnee Mission Medical Center. After 3 hours of ranting, raving, tossing furniture and general nastiness, the hospital TURNED HIM AWAY because he said that yes, he wanted to die but he had no intention of completing the process that night. The counselor said we should try the adult detox center… (are you feeling the manaical laughter as well??)
My son suffers from Lyme, snorts pain meds, smokes and I believe sells K2, drinks Listerine, chugs alcohol and just found out, munches shrooms by the handful. We have kicked him out, offering our love and help if and when he decides to come clean. (Yes, we’ve already tried a prior detox, rehab out of state, and clean living house, all of which helped briefly.) Last night shows up asking for a place to sleep for one night, has a large gash on his head, and is sobbing. I cave like an idiot and my husband and I end up taking shifts through the night, watching him breath after we find residue on the bathroom sink — he raided the medicine cabinet and snorted Benadryl!
So, what have I learned to date? I know my son is no longer the child I raised. I know my son thinks nothing of harming others in his life both physically and emotionally— how can he care when he doesn’t have any regard for himself? I know my son may love us, yet that love will never out-weigh his need to escape into oblivion. And lastly, I know I will have to survive his choices, whatever they may be because ultimately, they are his to make.
Barbara says:
April 24th, 2011 at 1:36 am
Well said, Ron. You describe it very well.
Susan Lea says:
April 28th, 2011 at 5:20 pm
Another survival skill I’ve learned along the way is to think carefully about what others say and decide if these comments are really accurate to my situation. Sometimes people say things out of concern or a sense of “knowing what’s better” for me than I know for myself. I try to trust my own instincts and not dwell on what well-meaning friends or acquaintances happen to say about me.
I find that I will go in circles and not move forward or be a real help to my child if I’m dwelling on what is said by other people who consider themselves experts on my situation.
An Alanon principle is to “take what you need and leave the rest.” I’ve found that to be an important survival tool.
Patti Herndon says:
April 30th, 2011 at 8:39 pm
“God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and the wisdom to know the difference.”
Patti Herndon says:
April 30th, 2011 at 8:40 pm
Amen……..
Jill says:
May 6th, 2011 at 1:53 am
I have that hanging on my bathroom mirror, every morning I read it, take a deep breathe and put my make up on hoping to cover the dark circles and worry.
Cathy | Treatment Talk says:
May 6th, 2011 at 10:58 pm
Ron, your post felt so honest and to the point. I could feel the sting of addiction. Your story as well as those of the commenters made me realize once again the family destruction of substance abuse. Not only is the addict involved, but four other people on average are affected as well. It’s emotionally exhausting for the family members, especially parents. Thank you for sharing your story. It helps all of us to know that we are not alone.
Patti Herndon says:
May 10th, 2011 at 9:31 pm
Jill… Hang in there, lady ;0) keep breathing deep.
I like your idea of putting the serenity prayer on the makeup/bathroom mirror…think I will follow suit. It’s kind of a cool thing…It lets us repeat the words while looking into our own eyes/heart. Maybe that helps super- charge the message in some way? I use a cover stick for the circles -works ok. But, I haven’t found a cover for the worry…yet, anyway ;0) I guess sharing the worry with people who can support and empathize is probably the best we have for that, to date. You, through the sharing of your ritual, helped inspire me to think about giving something new a try -something that might help on behalf of stress-reduction and hope-building. A faith booster… I ‘ll try it. Much thanks for that…
Jean says:
May 14th, 2011 at 5:00 am
Yes you certainly write like a parent of an addicted child. It’s amazing and I am grateful that you have put words to the twisting, gnawing, empty feeling that is in my heart.
I too love an unlovable person. I too am at war with the one I love. Coping skills? Intervene, which I have been searching for without knowing it until I discovered it tonight on my laptop – is a wonderful coping tool. I have been too depressed lately because I have been drowning in my own negativity. Thank you for throwing a life preserver my way. I can draw an energizing breath from all the positive and compassionate spirit found here. I must remember to love myself or else I’ll drown.
Gwen says:
May 20th, 2011 at 4:53 am
Just today I read about the latest oldest woman in the world (validated by Guinness World Book of Records). She’s 114 and Brazilian. “She says she has lived long because she has always taken care of her own life – and not the life of others,” granddaughter Jane Ribeiro Moraes, 63, told a local newspaper.
I found this quote both a brightly shocking and joyous statement from a woman, and a woman born in 1896 no less! And on top of all that, a mother. But not a mother who presumably ever chose to throw down her own life for her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren or great-great-grandchildren.
My first husband was an alcoholic. I left him (no children). He later committed suicide after his second wife left and took the two children. My adoptive son is now a weed addict. His biological mother was an alcoholic. There is bi-polar disorder on the maternal side and addiction issues on the paternal side as well. Things look bad.
Survival involves accepting the path as being the path. And I don’t think any parent (biological or otherwise) should lose sight of the fact that the path of an addict (even if you yourself may once have been one) is just wide enough for one person.
Don’t be traipsing alongside in the mud and ditches. Because if you do that you may think you are letting them know you are there and instead they realize they have someone to break their fall when they twist their ankle because that path is so narrow and treacherous.
No love is unconditional. But critically the conditions placed on a parent’s love originate from the child’s addiction. Accepting those conditions is actually tougher for the parent than the addicted child.
Patti Herndon says:
June 8th, 2011 at 7:04 am
As parents, the vast majority of us have instincts that help guide us in our decision making regarding how we might best help our children -especially as they experience hardship. This instinct, this innate understanding residing deep in our soul, defines and illuminates the meaning of words/phrases such as “unconditional love”,”detachment” and the premise of “prioritizing the care of ourselves” as it pertains to our particular lives/circumstances with regard to addiction/mental health challenges.
Typically, we all tend to do the best we can with what we know at the time in terms of helping our children, because we love them. And, on subject “love”…we can’t qualify or quantify someone else’s experience of “love” –no matter how much we might want to believe that we can. We can, though, get better at not dwelling in the past, choosing instead to utilize it’s teaching to strengthen our resolve, sharpen our parenting skill set, and build hope as we journey WITH (in support of) our addicted child -be they teen or adult-aged. We owe it. It’s that simple.
The road to sustainable recovery is, typically, a long one…It’s wide too -So there is room to share. We are certainly not alone. The muck we can get stuck in, the obstacles that slow our momentum along the way -not part of the road. No. That stuff that stalls us is what “we” fuel our tanks/our perspective with. But, that’s resolvable too if we choose it. Takes learning. Takes belief. Takes time. It’s a process. It’s a marathon. It’s worth every mile.
As we are increasingly engaged/invested/reacting in a healthy way with our kids and others, these over-utilized, collectively misunderstood words and phrases associated with recovery such as, “unconditional love”, “detachment”, and “self-care” simply stop being points of instruction to others, or catalyst for debate. When the lion’s share of our focus and energy becomes that of building increasingly healthy relationships with those we love, those in our sphere of influence; we tend to figure out, little by little, on our own, WITH the encouragement/support of others, the necessary steps we need to take to achieve that. We get better/stronger as we make our way. As we do that, there comes a welcomed, hard-fought-for, increasingly smoother patch of road…the ah-ha moment… an understanding/acceptance that there was never need to choose “either” our addiction-challenged son/daughter or ourselves.
Addiction is the journey. Recovery is the destination
Sheri says:
November 12th, 2011 at 12:20 am
I had a special ringtone for my son. I cringed everytime I heard it, but when days went by that I didnt, I’d call him and then regret it. I havent gotten any calls for 3 weeks now as he’s in rehab. I havent slept this good for years!
We have struggled with his addiction and thought he’d hit rock bottom several times and that would be it, he’d change and be a happy and productive member of society.
I hope that when he calls again that its positive and he’s happy to be clean and sober and willing to do the work that will change his life for good and become the amazing son we always knew was in there. Just hiding under the veil of addiction.
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