5 Things We Did (By Accident) to Save Our Son’s Life: A South Bay Mom's Story
/I’m writing this for you, friend. You, the one in the dark, lonely abyss of life with a teenager who has a substance abuse problem. I’m here to squeeze your hand tighter as you grope for a railing, a guide, a light switch, because whatever you’ve been doing is not working and you’re afraid of losing your kid -- maybe forever. Perhaps you’ve even thought, at your lowest point, that losing him might be better than keeping him this way. What kind of parent would even think such a thing? But the truth is, you can love a child to the ends of the earth and still feel that kind of awful despair. I know because I’ve been there.
We felt so isolated and in the dark as we struggled to save our teenager. Looking back, I can see which strategies made the difference. Surprisingly, some of our best choices were accidental. I hope this gives you relief when you hear that terrible whisper of self-doubt, “am I doing the right thing?” There are no right answers, but here are five things that helped us along our son’s road to recovery.
We didn’t give our son privacy, even though it made him furious. The moment we suspected he had a drug problem, we snooped through his room. When he locked us out, we removed the doorknob. We peeked over his shoulder to get his iPhone passcode and read his messages when he was asleep. We became ruthless digital spies. We installed the family tracking app Life360 and used Screen Time to monitor him. If he shut off Life360, he lost access to Snapchat, which, by the nature of its technology, is the preferred mode of communication for drug exchanges. Finding unfamiliar drug paraphernalia and seeing Snapchat videos on his phone of our nearly unconscious teenager taking a bong hit alerted us to how fast things had spiraled out of control. He had gone very quickly from vaping flavored nicotine to smoking weed and experimenting with all kinds of drugs. Some frantic nights, guided by the tracking app, we drove dark streets to find him barely able to walk. My husband spent anxious hours by his bed to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit or, during more terrifying, hallucinogenic trips, hurt himself in another way.
We used our insurance coverage as a guide for the rehab programs we chose. We got a list of rehab programs from our insurance company and made a beeline for the first one where someone answered the phone. It was rough as we learned to navigate the incredibly complex and profitable “troubled teen” recovery industry. Desperate parents will find an endless array of expensive “education consultants”, wilderness camps and rehab high schools, often in states that allow corporal punishment and lockdowns. We stuck with local rehab programs where we were a part of his therapy – five in all, from the age of 14 to 18. While in our experience, the 30-day rehabs didn’t fix our son’s substance abuse, it did give us occasional periods of peace and sobriety.
We did our best to limit our teen’s access to money. We installed a safe in our garage, drilled into the concrete, where we stored our car keys, wallets, jewelry, passports, and anything else that might be sold for drugs. We didn’t even keep loose change in the house. We put a lock on the liquor cabinet, where we also stored any cold medications. Despite this, our teenager managed to steal about $6,000 over the course of three years, through electronic fraud.
We went on a social hiatus. While we immediately alerted our son’s high school to our struggle, we abandoned many social connections during this time, especially the parents of our son’s classmates. At first, I avoided them due to my own confusion and shame. But in hindsight, I see that avoiding the gossip, judgmental remarks, and the hazard of comparing our parenting styles to those of others allowed us to focus on our son. The cold truth is that not everyone is rooting for your success or looking out for your child…there are always going to be people like the dad who, after hosting a party at his house for his teen, dumped our kid on our stoop, blacked out drunk and vomiting and drove off. He didn’t bother to make sure we were home, or that our son was safe, but he did text us the next day demanding $600 for the cleanup of vomit from his luxury sport coupe. I leaned heavily on a small, trusted group of friends who did not have kids the same age as my teen. They held my hand, cried with me, and carried me through those years.
We looked forward to the day he turned 18. One thing we often heard was that we needed to resolve this problem before he turned 18 or “it was too late”. But that adage didn’t apply to our son. The reality was that he wasn’t able to truly feel the consequences of his actions until he was an adult, which might also be the case for many young adults. It was an incredible relief when we were no longer legally obligated to house the monster who had taken over our lives. It was relief mixed with anguish – I honestly feared he would die. On his last day of high school (he had not earned enough credits to graduate) we gave him our insurance card and told him to find a rehab, because he was no longer welcome in our home; we were throwing out his stuff and changing the locks. We meant it, and he believed us. Shaken, and facing homelessness, he found a rehab our insurance would cover for 45 days. We dropped him off and hoped for the best. Back home, we discarded everything that reminded us of those terrible years -- his bed, mattress, linens -- and turned his room into a study, knowing he would never live with us again.
I prayed for his departure at 18 for selfish reasons, but looking back, I realize my job was done, and the rest was up to him. It’s easy to overcomplicate your role as a parent, but our harrowing journey left me with a merciless clarity: a parent’s job is to get their child to adulthood with as little physical and mental trauma as possible. That’s it. It’s not up to us to make them do Model U.N. or play a high school sport, or an instrument, or even finish high school, much less go to college (all things we tried and “failed” at). None of that matters when the stakes are life and death.
Our son completed his 45-day stay, leaving him clean, but not sober. We found a local sober living program for young men and offered to pay for it, and nothing else. Insurance coverage had run out, he no longer had a bedroom at our house, so it was that or the streets. He chose the sober living program, committed to it, and we believe it saved his life, and the alcoholics who run it saved ours. They took the reins when we couldn’t hold them anymore, and they gave us the chance to put the oxygen mask on and heal our family. They taught us how to detach with love, and they’ve shown our son a life that’s possible without drugs or alcohol.
There are limits to what we can do as parents. Part of being a good parent is seeking help when we need it and accepting it with humility.
Our son, now 19, recently celebrated a year of sobriety and will be graduating from his sober living program soon. This quiet old soul, who spent his childhood yearning for something it seemed we couldn’t give him, finally has peace in his life. I see laughter in his eyes, and love in his gestures. Even better, I hear hope in his voice. He graduated high school, he’s taking college classes, he works in a restaurant and lives in a house full of sober brothers who have his back and hold him accountable. He’s confident in his ability to succeed in whatever path he chooses. Best of all, we have each other in our lives.
My relationship with my son has been a roller coaster. I look at pictures and remember the days when he would serenade me with love songs and hug me so tightly that I couldn’t breathe. Then came the years of defiance and hostility where things were said between mother and son that I’m still working on forgiving myself for. And this year, my son surprised me with a birthday card that has changed my awareness of this journey in so many ways. What I now know is this: even in the darkest most devastating moments, our connection and the love we share was always there for him, even when I had been certain it was broken. For those of you enduring similar struggles, I share his note with you with the intention of showing what’s possible and maybe even inspiring hope.
Mom,
Happy Birthday! ….Even when we were going through the toughest times and our relationship was at our worst, I knew that you are one of the most important people in my life and I didn’t want to lose sight of that. It took me a long time to see clearly all the attempts you made to save my life and protect yourself from the damage I would cause. I’m happy that you have helped me get to the place I’m in today where I’m aware of my addiction and our relationship won’t have to be hostile like it was. You taught me to be strong and resilient and you’re still doing that today and I love that about you. I can’t wait for the time we are going to spend together and the memories we will make when I graduate. I love you so much and happy birthday.
Love,
X
By, South Bay Mom
A note from SBFC: We thank this anonymous author for sharing her story to reduce stigma and bring hope to families struggling with addiction. She has offered to serve as a compassionate and supportive listener to other parents of young adults suffering from addiction. If you are a parent in need of that support, please email the SBFC Inquiry Response Manager with your request to connect directly with the author.
