Help Me Mom!

By Gail A. Nel

This is the story of the heart-wrenching journey of a mother and her son as they struggle to come to terms with and overcome his addiction to heroin. The facts in this story are all true and serve to map out the challenges and the heartache of the life of a mother living with an addicted child. In a very real and candid way, it is written both to identify with and to encourage mothers and other family members who are living through this same nightmarethe nightmare of dealing with an addicted child!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984512611

Gail A. Nel

In this book, I have opened my heart to you, not as a psychologist, not as a counselor but as a mother. I have chronicled the struggles my son and I have faced living with his drug addiction on a day-to-day basis. I have shared my innermost thoughts and emotions in the hope that you will be uplifted and even encouraged by the fact that there is somebody who understands what you are going through; someone who knows what you have to face every day. I sincerely hope that as you travel this diffi cult road, facing all the challenges and heartache that this journey holds, the information I have shared in this book would both encourage and support you and help you to fi nd your own path to a happier and more positive future.

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Copyright © 2018 by GAIL A. NEL.

Library of Congress Control Number:18902727

ISBN:       Hardcover         978-1-9845-1263-5

                 Softcover          978-1-9845-1262-8

              eBook                  978-1-9845-1261-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Scripture quotations marked AMP are from The Amplified Bible, Old Testament copyright © 1965, 1987 by the Zondervan Corporation. The Amplified Bible, New Testament copyright © 1954, 1958, 1987 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture taken from the Amplified Bible, Copyright © 1954, 1958, 1962, 1964, 1965, 1987 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 03/21/2018

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Contents

Introduction

Escape To New Shores

Facing The Music

What Now?

Am I An Enabler?

The Importance Of Family

I’m All Messed Up

No One Cares

Love Never Fails

My Hero

Reaching For Hope

Second Chance

A Tragedy

Pay The Piper

One Day At A Time

Fight To Win

Free At Last, Or Not?

Birds Of A Feather

A Ray Of Hope

Hope At Last

What About You?

A Note To The Addict

This is the story of a heart-wrenching journey of a mother and her son as they struggle to come to terms with and overcome his addiction to drugs. This story is based on facts and true events; however, names and places have been changed to protect the identities of the people involved.

In a very real and candid way, it is written both to identify with and to encourage mothers and other family members who are living through this terrible nightmare, the nightmare of living with a drug-addicted child.

GAIL A. NEL

LETTER_pass.jpg

INTRODUCTION

A S A MOTHER who has been struggling through the tragedy of my own child’s drug addiction for several years, I have decided to share my experiences as a source of encouragement to other mothers who are caught in this same and sometimes hopeless predicament. In the pages of this book, I will walk with you through the heartache of living through this dilemma. I will share the ups and the downs, the highs and the lows, and how, ultimately, we as a family and, in particular, I as a mother have managed to struggle through the daily life of living with my son Noah and come to grips with the fact that he is an addict.

As mothers, we always remember the births of our children, each one of them a different birth experience and a different story. Each one of them finds a special place in our hearts and from that first day, our motherly instinct to nurture, feed, and protect our children kicks in, and there is nothing we can do about it. Nature has imposed upon us the safety and destiny of our children and so when we are faced with challenges that are out of our control, that instinct compels us to protect and defend and to recreate the safe environment that was there from the beginning when we were still in control.

As they grow up, we hold their hands through all the challenges that life brings their way. We check off each milestone and record each memory, attempting to create the platform from which they will launch successfully into adulthood and our job of parenting would be done. Unfortunately, through no fault of our own, things do not always turn out the way we envisage. For a start, as parents, we learn from very early on that the job of parenting is never over, and as mothers, we soon discover that at the first appearance of trouble, we are the ones they run to for help. This is only natural, of course, because we are the ones who, throughout their childhood, have nurtured, cared for and provided for them and with whom they feel most secure. This, however, is a double-edged sword and our greatest challenge for this makes us the most vulnerable to their lies and manipulation and turns us into the desperately unwilling enablers, surviving on the brink of panic, not knowing which way to turn as we face the fact that we are losing control. What do we do when the decisions they make are the wrong ones for their safety and well-being? What do we do when they are able to choose for themselves what is right or wrong and what leads to life and death and when, in the words of Deuteronomy 29, they choose curses instead of blessing?

Though I write from the standpoint of one who believes that God can change a life—yes, even the life of an addict—total reformation or wholeness still depends on the choices a person makes. Whether you believe as I do, or not, there are certain principles I have discovered that are unchanging and breech the gap between believing in God or not believing in Him. First, and the most important of these, is the fact that the first step to wholeness is choice. Every choice we make and every choice our children make, affects the direction our lives are going. A psychologist once rightly said, We are the result of the choices we have made. This, however, does not have to be a sentence that is irreversible. Yes, Noah’s choices have left him at the mercy of his addiction but his choices from now on out can change that. The choices he will make in the future are a source of hope for me today and the extent to which I can influence those choices enables me to feel a little less helpless as I try to help my boy.

Second, it is conviction, the conviction that the new choices he will make are going to be the right ones. He has to decide to be sober, he has to decide to change the way he is living and he has to be convinced that this is the right thing for him to do.

Then finally, there is obedience. He needs to be obedient to the restrictions that are placed upon him by us his parents, to the laws of the land, and to the new code of behavior he has decided to adopt. For Noah, this would be the Biblical Text, God’s instructions for living life successfully; for your child, it could be something else. The simple fact of the matter is that there must be a new set of rules set in place which must be obeyed because the old way has clearly not worked.

Taking these things into account, it has been imperative for me to make my son understand that he is where he is, a heroin addict, because of the choices he has made and that he has become a slave to the consequences of these choices. The only way out is a total change of mind and a resulting change of behavior. The million-dollar question is, How will this ever happen? Not in my wildest dreams did I ever think that in the prime of my life, I would have to walk through life with a twenty-eight-year-old drug addict son. I have heard many stories of parents coping with addicted children and I have sympathized with them, but until I was faced with this situation myself, I had no idea of the pain and chaos that addiction could bring into the life of a mother and a family. This is something that no one had prepared me for and it has left me bewildered and at a loss as to what to do and even how to think this through. I have found myself out of my depth and thrust into a world of which I knew nothing. My son had landed me in the middle of the chaos of addiction and I felt as lost and as hopeless as he did. How on earth did I get here?

Unfortunately, I did not take Noah’s drug addiction seriously at first. I thought he was just like all other teenagers, going through an identity crisis and just experimenting with drugs. My reasoning, though flawed, told me that we had brought him up correctly and that he would realize, soon enough, that what he was experimenting with was harmful to him and stupid and that he would eventually quit this nonsense of his own accord. This was, of course, the rational thinking of a mother who had the best expectations for her son. What I did not realize at the time was that Noah was already heavily addicted to drugs and that an addict did not think rationally. I was sorely unaware of the associations that had been forming in his brain and of the chemical dependence that his body had developed. I did not realize he was in way over his head and that change was not something that would come easily, and in fact, it would be just the opposite, that this rocky road towards change would be filled with hard times and challenges that I had not even imagined.

Sad to say, in my effort to help him and in my natural desire to believe the best of him, I became the enabler. Time after time, I gave in to his promises, assurances, and requests. No sooner had he promised me that he was telling the truth and that he was quitting than he fell right back into his routine of lying and deceitfulness. Even when he assured me that he was sober, he wasn’t, and the longer this went on, the cleverer he got at hiding it from me. Regardless of what he told me, HE NEVER QUIT. I had become the key to his addiction, the enabler and it was his mission to play me, to keep me fooled, to keep me sympathetic and to keep me giving, a game he played very well.

Despite all I have said thus far, this book records my mission to see my son fully recovered, no matter what. I am committed to his well-being and I am persuaded that if we as a family stand together, we will see him live a full and successful life again, drug free. I know that this will come at a great cost to us all, BUT this journey is not for the fainthearted; it is a hard, tough, and rocky one. It is one of unconditional love and commitment between mother and son, father and son, brother and brother, and brother and sister. I believe that any program that is likely to succeed and any program that is going to get the addict to the finish line successfully and clean, relies upon the support and commitment of the family that surrounds him or her. This road to recovery can be likened to running a marathon. You may begin the race feeling fresh but that is only the start. By the time you reach the ten-mile mark, you are hot and tired and your legs are aching, but you shuffle on. The challenge is not getting to the starting line; it’s getting to the end. Even when you make it to the twenty-four-mile mark, you still have two miles to go. Though you can taste the finish, you’re not there yet. You may be hot and exhausted, your legs may be aching but you’ve got to carry on running; you’ve got to reach the end. All along the way there have been people cheering you on, shouting words of support. You’re almost there but alas, five hundred yards from the finish, you trip and fall; you’ve sprained your ankle. A crowd of supporters start shouting and yelling at you with all their might, Come on, get up! You’re almost there! Run! You get up and dust yourself off and start hobbling toward the finish line. A runner from behind comes to your aid. Together, arm in arm, you stumble towards the finish line. The crowd cheers you on. You cross the line; you’ve done it. It was a tough race; it was a long way, but you had to hang in there to get to the finish line. The times that you thought you couldn’t go on anymore, you kept going. The supporters cheered you along and a fellow runner came to your aid, but you completed the race. This is the commitment I have towards my boy and this is how family and friends can help and encourage him to get to the end. When things look hopeless, you’ve got to press on. When you can’t deal with it another day, you’ve got to keep going. When he relapses, you’ve got to pick him up and start over again. You set a goal and keep moving toward it; it’s the only way you are going to get to the finish line, in our case, a drug-free life for my son.

I have realized that this kind of commitment comes with the demand for endless patience and endurance and that there are no guarantees. There have been days when I have wanted to pull my hair out in frustration, and there have been times that I have wanted to run a million miles away. There have been days when I have just felt like giving up and there will be more days like that too, but I know, sometimes with exasperation, that this is not the answer. Fellow runner, this is not going to be a quick one-week recovery program. This journey may take months, even years. It will take time to change the habits of an addict and you are going to need a lot of patience to see this recovery play out. You will need to rely on unconditional love, which, at times, you will find challenging. This is love and commitment at its best, but I trust that it will stand the test of time.

As you begin this journey with me, I would like to share a poem that Noah wrote to me while he was in jail. As I read it, my mind went back to when he was just a little boy—so loveable, so innocent, and with so much potential. I was forced to ask myself Where did I go wrong? and Am I to blame for the way things have turned out? As I continued reading, I came to realize that I didn’t have the answers to these questions but that I did know one thing: Noah is my son and I love him and no matter what he has done, no matter how much he has used and abused me, he is still my son and I love him unconditionally. I also knew that it was my desire to see him live a life as successful and as prosperous as God intended him to, a life free from addiction.

In this book, I have opened my heart to you, not as a psychologist, not as a counselor but as a mother. I have chronicled the struggles my son and I have faced living with his drug addiction on a day-to-day basis. I have shared my innermost thoughts and emotions with the hope that you will benefit from our experience. It has not been easy as my first reaction was that of embarrassment and I wanted to hide my dirty washing from the public as my parents had always taught me to do. However, I have realized that there is a lot to be learned and shared from these experiences and my desire is that this would encourage you as you hear from someone who has walked the same road as you are probably walking.

My hope is that you gain strength, encouragement, and comfort from this experience and that you will also find strength in God, as I have, to carry you and your child from day to day until you have crossed the finished line to full recovery.

I introduce you now to my son Noah as I begin this book. He writes this of himself:

Dear Myself,

I’m really worried about you man, you’re so far gone. I remember back when nothing was wrong, what happened to you Noah? Man, you’re falling, you’re so far away from yourself, you keep stalling. You were such a great guy, man everyone loved you. You were funny, people always laughed with you. You had so many friends and a choice for the night. Now you ain’t nothing and all we do is fight. Why are you doing this to me? What did I do to deserve this pain and misery? Man, I really hope this is not always how it will be ’cause I can’t last much longer. I’m drowning can’t you see? Water fills my lungs with every hit you take, can’t you hear your friends when they explain your mistake?

Noah please, I’m begging you, don’t do this anymore, no one likes who you’ve become, no one believes you’ll be restored. I can’t remember how you lost all this weight. I don’t know how much money went away. But I’m here in your ear begging with all I have. Please hear my plea, please get on a brand-new path. You can’t go down this road no more. It’s a dead end. You lost yourself, your family and your friends.

If we could just please go back to how it was, you went surfing, hung around with your family, you were in love, you were singing on stage, were so successful for your age. You were smoking chronic Noah, but not plutonic Noah. You were going out on dates, with girls and friends. You dared to be different and dared to contend man, to you, myself.

Please hear my plea ’cause without you I’m done, without you I’m me, I’m me, myself, the one with the needles, the sad run-down skinny version of the Noah.

If you take one more hit, I’m serious, you’re going nowhere in life, don’t be delirious, if that needle enters your vein, I’ll leave you, I’m done, you’re insane. If I leave you, you’re gone, without yourself. You’re nothing.

Pop, needle goes in,

You’re leaving, in a coffin

ESCAPE TO

NEW SHORES

T HE SHADES OF the camper were open just enough to allow the first rays of the morning sun to sneak through, reminding me that it was morning. Reluctantly, I reached up and pulled them back just a little more, glancing out to see what this new morning had in store for us.

The early morning sun danced brightly on the water as a light breeze blew across the bay. A few gulls flew back and forth in what seemed like aimless circles, riding on the wind and crying their shrill cries, breaking the silence of the morning. In all, it was a beautiful summer’s morning, a little muggy but quite peaceful and serene. Under different circumstances, this would have been just another beautiful day camping, but just like yesterday morning and the morning before that and, in fact, every morning for the past few years, the weight of what we were living with came rolling back onto my shoulders like a great oppressive boulder of truth.

The brief respite I had found in the beauty of the morning soon gave way to the reality of what today held. It was Memorial Day, the day of new beginnings for my son Noah. Well, I say new beginnings but in reality, it was about the fourth new beginning, another journey he would embark upon in a desperate effort to free himself of the awful life of drugs he had plunged himself into. Today we were going to send him back to South Africa, his country of birth, in an attempt to give him a new start.

This would be the third time we had sent him away to South Africa and for the same reasons. Exasperated by unsuccessful attempts to get him off drugs, I am hoping beyond all hopes that this time new opportunities and relationships would open to him and most importantly, provide a new environment for him to make a clean start. So why would this time be different from the times before? Well, frankly, I was not sure that it would but I was desperate, we were all desperate and it seemed like the most logical thing to do—change his surroundings and environment and hope that it would give him the desire and motivation to change his behavioral patterns.

As idealistic and probably as ludicrous as this sounds, especially in hindsight, this is what parents do when they are desperately seeking a better way for their addict child. Our efforts to get them away from their easy access to drugs and the bad influences with which they are familiar make us prepared to do just about anything.

Perhaps our decision was irresponsible and perhaps this was the wrong thing for us to be doing, but the truth of the matter is that when you are left with no alternatives, decisions like this are much easier to be made.

The life of an addict is punctuated by crises; that is one of the first things we had to come to grips with. The past month had produced one of these crises and we were attempting to deal with it. Noah had been involved in a motor car accident and the inevitable outcome was that he had come away with three charges against him—reckless driving, driving an