National Meth Awareness Day has raised my own awareness. After my essay ran in two newspapers, one on each coast, I heard from people I never expected to hear from.
Total strangers cried with me. Friends and family saw both me and my son in a different light. I saw myself differently.
My addicted son still hasn’t read the essay. Maybe he never will, but today it’s because he left this evening to see what he could get for a power tool he had borrowed from a friend. To see what he could get to pay for his next high.
This is the saddest part, living this life, explaining to strangers and loved ones how he isn’t a bad person. When he’s in recovery, he’s not evil or mean or even selfish. In addition to his handsome looks, he has a tender heart and a lot of determination.
Just not quite enough, today.
Thanks to all who have phoned or written in reference to my son. I need every bit of help I can get. Courage, I pray for courage. These wonderful sons and daughters need courage to escape this addiction; these moms and dads and sisters and brothers need courage to keep loving their addicts, not to mention Nar-anon and maybe a decent night’s sleep. I hope some family, somewhere sees what meth can do and runs like hell the other way.