My dearest child… You are in jail…again.
You just turned 18 in April, 2011, so this time you probably won’t skate on the charges the way you have in the past. Nor should you. I have watched you throw away what could have been a wonderful life. You are so loved and needed. It’s agonizing to watch this. I have lost job after job after job because of your addiction. I lost my home. You have stolen me blind to the point that I no longer own anything of value.
I have learned not to replace it as you will just come back around and steal it all over again. You started when you were 7….7 for God’s sake….and hid it well. Hid it so well that by the time I realized that you weren’t ADHD or learning challenged or any of the other things the experts told me, you were 15 and it was far too late to stop that freight train. I have picked you up from the police, been called to the emergency room more times than I can count…paid for 4 surgeries because you insisted on skateboarding high and/or drunk and broke your body to pieces.
I have lost all of my friends and most of my family…they are no longer willing to deal with me while I deal with you. Every time I visit you in jail or take that collect call from you, a part of me dies.
I can’t keep doing this. I never in my life ever thought I could walk away from you and I still don’t know how I will do it, only that I must. I don’t want to but I can no longer deal with the agony that goes with a child who loves his drugs more than he loves me, more than he loves life….you OD’ed 6 times last year….6 times the doctors managed to save your life, 6 times you put me through hell waiting on them to tell me if you would live or if you would die. Every time the phone rings, my heart just stops. I know that you are safe in jail right now, but the last 11 years have taught me that when the phone rings it’s one more hideous thing to deal with, so my body still reacts as though you were still on the outside.
I don’t how I will live without you, but I can no longer live with you and your choices. If you ever decide to get straight, I will be here. If you ever need help and support to get and stay straight, I will be here. But for now, I won’t let you drag me down into your stuff….not ever again. I love you, darlin boy….so very, very much.
I pray that you will come home again to me, but if you choose not to….know that I love you forever.