What’s it like being the parent of an addict? I’m not talking about the day-to-day experience with a crisis and drama around every corner. I mean what is it like inside the mind of a parent who has gone from discovery (of a child’s drug use) to recovery (from a drug addiction)? As I take stock of my current emotional state – examining all of the emotions I have felt over the last 10 years – I wonder: Am I normal? Am I a survivor? Am I crazy? Maybe I’m just a composite of these experiences and it’s simply who I am now.

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After reflecting on the last 10 years, here is my emotional inventory:

Hurt: Hurt is one of the emotions that never fully dissipates. Usually I am able to put the hurt aside and shield myself. Occasionally, however, it jumps out at me. I have never hurt like I had while suffering through my son’s active addiction. For me, it is a hurt that even overshadows the death of a loved one. I spent a long time with this emotion. For many years I couldn’t separate the disease in my son from my son himself. His addiction was a personal affront and I held onto very deeply. The pain from this emotion took me to places I wish I never would have seen. This was the hardest to reconcile within myself. Hurt was the most destructive emotion for me and it drove my life.

Anger: Anger was my defense mechanism against the hurt. Anger moved me to do things that I am not proud of: scream and curse at my son, scream and curse at my wonderful wife — in fact, at times, I attacked anyone who was within reach. For the most part, my anger wasn’t physical. Rather, I sliced people to bits with words. But one day my anger drove me to my lowest point in life — I struck my son in anger. My son taught me a lesson, however. Even though he was high and addicted, he did not strike back. His respect for me at that time was greater than my respect for him. Of this, I am ashamed. “You have a right to be angry,” he would say. I have heard those words before. But they are empty. Anger comes with the territory. Our response to life with anger is something we must find a way to live with, while not destroying ourselves.

Suspicion: I always thought of myself as a trusting person. My whole philosophy in life was that I was too lazy to distrust somebody. After all, trusting is easy. To distrust, on the other hand, requires a tremendous amount of work and energy. Yet, suspicion makes distrust easier. You begin to see the evil in a person. It is easy to forget that the symptoms of a disease can mask the reality of a situation. It is easy to allow suspicion to drive your life and behaviors. I’m not talking about the things the parent of an addict must do to protect themselves and the addict. I talking about learning to see evil in a person, when evil is not the intent. This outlook leads to negative consequences for all involved.

Contempt: Contempt is the culmination of hurt, anger and suspicion. Contempt is a terrible thing for parents to hold against their own children. Contempt can easily slide to a place where there is no caring. I felt once that I was entering that place. I can’t go there; it is a one way door. Thankfully, I did not go through that passage. It is a bad, bad place.

Joy: Joy is that emotion we all want. When I think of joy the picture of Snoopy dancing on top of his doghouse comes to mind. Joy comes from many places -– but it is immediate and temporary. However joy is a fix that I craved. I’d twist reality in order to experience that feeling. Too often my desire for joy allowed me to ignore realities to the detriment of myself and my son.

Hope: Hope was the most dangerous of positive emotions. Hope set me up for terrible lows. I misunderstood hope for most of the time that my son was using. It was an emotion that I transferred to others. My hope was based upon the actions — or lack thereof — by others. I would pass out hope to people like business cards at a conference. I placed my hope in the hands of rehabs, meetings, counselors…anyone. I allowed others to both build up my hope and pull it out from underneath me. Yet, hope is an emotion that must be internalized; it isn’t a wish. Hope is an awareness of life and the tender nature of what impacted me. Where there is life there is hope; it was only after I understood that simple phrase that I understood what hope really was, rather than what I wanted it to be.

Happiness: Happiness is so much more than joy. Joy is fleeting, happiness is an internal state of being. Happiness can be found in all things. Happiness can be obvious: the birth of wonderful grandchildren; the sound of, “Papa come here.” But happiness can be born of heartache and pain, like the happiness I feel to have known my father for 27 years of my life. Happiness isn’t the smile or grin you see on my face, it is the feeling inside. The smile is simply a physical response.

Appreciation: Appreciation is the dominant feeling I have today. Appreciation isn’t a “thank you,” but rather, it is a recognition of what “is.” Appreciation is taking it all in-the good, the bad and the ugly. The simple process of writing this post is a process of appreciation for me. The horrible emotions and actions I described above are just as valuable in shaping my well being as the wonderful feelings I experience today while my son is in recovery. Appreciation ALLOWS me to learn from what I have experienced over these past 10 years. If I choose not to learn then what has been the worth of a decade of my life? I wish that I had never experienced any of this and that my son had never been an addict. If there was a time machine I’d be on it right now to change it all, but that can’t happen. Ignoring the bad and only recognizing the good discounts my life and make me less than. I want to be the best I can be. In order to do so, I must learn from my terrible mistakes.

Love: Love is so much more than what we whisper at night before falling asleep. Love is a life preserver in a storm; it is a foundation that holds you up; it is something that makes you better than what you can be alone. I learned more about love in the last 10 years than I had learned all my life before. Love comes not just from those whom are close to you, but also from those who have enough in their life that they wish to share. All you have to do is ACCEPT it.

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As the parent of an addict, I have learned that we are not perfect. In fact, we shouldn’t even strive for perfection. Trying to be perfect causes terrible control issues (speaking from experience here). It’s a hard lesson, but we all must do what we are capable of doing at any one time. Self assessment and learning isn’t something we do, it is a process we work through.

I wish that I could live the rest of my life experiencing only the positive emotions. But I know that hurt, anger and suspicion will at some time again enter my life. That’s the way life is. Yet after experiencing the extreme emotions brought about by parenting an addict – and acknowledging them — I believe that I will be better able to cope with any negative feelings that arise.

Have any of you have experienced these same emotions? If you have, it is worth the reflection to examine what being the parent of an addict has done for you as much as it has done to you.

Maybe I’m normal, or maybe not. But no matter, quoting an old wise philosopher, Popeye the Sailor Man:

“I yam wot I yam. And that’s all wot I yam……”

Life is not easy. It’s not easy if you are a drug addict or even if you are not an addict. It’s all about evolution. The strong survive.  It’s not just about physical strength; it is more about mental strength. Do you have the will to survive?  Do you have the strength to make it one more day?

As a person who has never been a drug addict or an alcoholic, I can only speak from that perspective. My insight into your world is only through observation. I do not wish to walk in your shoes. But I can tell you what it is like to walk in mine – if you are serious about sobriety.

Every day I have unfulfilled wants and they are not centered on anyone else. It may seem selfish, but I believe that the center of one’s being can only revolve around oneself. I want things, I want different feelings, I want changes in others, I want, I want, I want. It really never ends. I believe that desire is no different for a drug addict or non-addict.

Daily there are people out there telling you, no – a boss, friends, parents, spouses, and girlfriends – that is just a part of life.  Disappointment and hurt is as much a part of living as joy, happiness and love. Hurt is the same for an addict as it is for a non-addict. The difference is how we react to and cope with our emotions, whether they are good or bad.  I don’t know what drugs do for an addict to help cope with disappointment. I don’t know how drugs heighten the joy of happiness. But I do know that my life would be very monochromatic without the peaks and valleys.

I have no doubt from observing you that you hated every day that you were using drugs. I can see how your life was out of control, spiraling into a pit of hurt and despair. You became so lost that the helping hands of others could not even be grasped.

I see your struggles with being clean. More pain than joy. It’s a time in your life where the scales are not balanced. You are working so hard to survive but everyone is saying, no.  There are so many frustrations.  What is the use, you may wonder?

There is one place where no one will say no. There is one life that will accept you. The life of drug use that you have known for the last several years. That is the easy path to take. 

But, please know that the immediate pain you feel now will eventually fade.

Just as when my father died, there was terrible pain for me. I wanted to pick up the phone and call him, but I knew I couldn’t. I wanted one last time, for old times’ sake, but I couldn’t. I flashed back to all the good times, but they were not to be any more. I believe that feeling of loss is something similar to what you are experiencing in order to live on. Your old life must die – and there is tremendous pain with that death. Each day you will want to use just one more time. Time may heal all wounds but sometimes the scars are there forever.

In time, the scales will balance and you will experience more joy than pain. But for now you must travel the difficult path and find the will to survive. You will become stronger each time you choose to steer away from that dangerous and tempting path at the fork in the road. It may be hard to see because the path to recovery is difficult.  But please know you are not walking alone – hands of help are reaching out to you with your every step.

What happens when what you have hoped and prayed for finally takes place? After months or years of living in fear for the very life of your child, she decides either on her own or ordered by the courts, to get treatment. Or she begins to attend meetings regularly to pursue recovery and living a healthy life in whatever form that works for her?

Where does that leave you? The mom or the dad who has laid awake at night wondering how on earth you can help your child.  Wondering if she is alive? Wondering if she is using drugs right at that very moment, is she safe, warm enough, hungry, is anyone hurting her or taking advantage of her?  Now what is your role as the parent?

I will tell you that I, as a mother, still worry. Is she going to enough meetings? Is she really even at her meetings?  Is she being honest? Is she really working her program? Each time she left the house I was in so much fear I was literally sick.

I thought that when she got treatment our problems would be solved.  Little did I know that we were just beginning the most intense journey of our lives.  Treatment and recovery is where the rubber met the road for our family.  It’s where the real work began for all of us – the whole family.  There are no quick fixes.

It was during those times when my daughter Hallah was in treatment that I realized how

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Looking for love in all the wrong places
Love at first sight
Love is blind
Love means never having to say you’re sorry

These are just a few of the themes that come to mind as I contemplate Valentine’s Day.  It occurs to me that I could tell my life story (both before and after recovery) using just the right combination of famous love quotes and song lyrics!

I was looking for love in all the wrong places when I first tried drugs.  I just didn’t know it at the time.  Growing up in an alcoholic home was traumatic.  I was frightened most of the time and very lonely.  Drugs filled the emptiness inside and made my fear go away.

It was love at first sight for me when it came to drugs.  Before long, nothing else mattered.  My family, friends, school and job – all took a back seat to

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I have a daughter. She is the second of our four children and she is beautiful. I can remember back 21 years ago to the day of her arrival onto this earth, into our family, and it is one of my most precious memories. Her birth was fun, filled with joy and we were surrounded by people who love us. As the doctor guided her out into this world and held her slick shiny body up for me to see, I felt such happiness, such pure unadulterated joy that I had been given a girl child.

At 12 years old that same beautiful girl child took her first drink of alcohol. Little did she know that she had opened a door to years of drama and turmoil, years of ruined relationships, loneliness, and feelings of defeat. Years of being in pain. By the time she was 14 that beautiful girl child of mine had become a black-out drinking drug user.

We rationalized that she was experimenting. Lots of kids go through wild phases, but deep inside I think we knew that this was more than that. We were afraid and ashamed and in denial…not a good combination. We worked so hard at controlling and managing what had so obviously already spun out of our grasp. We didn’t want anyone to know the depths of our fear. We hoped and prayed it would pass. But it didn’t.

We sought counseling and thankfully we were directed to Alanon Family Groups. Alanon is a 12 step program for the families and friends of alcoholics and/or addicts. Little did I know I was about to be given a road map that would lead me back to sanity. Because I had most certainly resorted to crazy behavior all in the name of saving my daughter.

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Despite the fact that my son Alex was cutting his sophomore classes and ignoring mounting piles of homework assignments, he readily morphed into a Constitutional scholar right before my very eyes whenever it came to the subject of privacy.  He had no aspirations to be a lawyer, but argued like one, vehemently stating that privacy was a basic human right, protected under the auspices of the 9th Amendment.  In his pursuit of life, liberty and unfettered drug use, he felt that his room, belongings, computer, and cell phone were off limits to parental scrutiny. 

As he was growing up I gave him what I thought was age-appropriate privacy, but once Alex broke the rules of our home by using substances, all bets were off.  I was waging an all out war against substance use and I needed as much information about my enemy (drugs) as possible.  Not only did it give me a handle on what was going on, but it allowed me to share information with his therapist so that we could determine the appropriate level of intervention – more therapy, an outpatient or inpatient program.

While he was actively using, I found drugs and drug paraphernalia in the most creative places – inside an electric pencil sharpener, under the rug in a corner of the closet, and inside books where pages had been cut out, not to mention clothing pockets and his backpack.  Checking Facebook and text messages on his cell phone also proved to be enlightening with messages like “R U puffin 2nite?�  Although I did not use computer-monitoring software like eBlaster to track instant messages and email, some parents do this as well.  

When I found my postal scales in his room, I immediately suspected that in addition to using, Alex was most likely dealing, a realization that terrified me on so many levels – his escalating drug use, the danger of dealing with drug dealers and the legal implications, to name a few. 

I carted everything I had found with us to Alex’s next therapy appointment, placed it on his therapist’s table with a dramatic flourish and said, “What do we do about this?�  As recognition flitted across Alex’s face, he blanched while the therapist commented that it didn’t “look good� and he would talk to Alex in more detail while I cooled my heels in the waiting room.

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