I do not want to share this with him; I am writing this as a means for therapeutic catharsis, hoping that by putting my thoughts in written form, I could gain more insight into myself. Even though Herman is the second child of five, Herman’s addiction made him the child that I fought for the hardest, walked on egg shells for , cheered enthusiastically for behaviors that were simply expected by the other children, lost sleep over, cried the most for, ruminated on , and almost lost myself over. I was also the one who called the police on him and according to Herman “lied and got him locked up with horrible people”. I do not regret the latter. I remind myself constantly, that I have four other wonderful, talented, honorable and accountable children. Somehow their love, respect, and accomplishments cannot fill this gaping void of pain in my heart right now. This is just one more thing that also fills me with guilt. I had such a hard time letting Herman go, although in theory I knew it was the right thing to do. I am now holding him accountable, which also includes knowing that I cannot have a relationship with him until he embraces recovery. The fact that my own son, heart of my heart, is toxic to me and my family is very painful. His addiction, which brings out his disrespect and belligerence, is something from which we needed to separate ourselves. I remember once when Herman was sick as a child, we isolated him from the rest of the children, so they would not become infected. I still stayed with him, and braved getting ill, because I was his mom. However, I became ill with the same virus, and passed it on to several other family members. In a lot of ways, the same thing is happening now. Herman is sick, and poses danger to our family. I can no longer stay with him until he gets “better”, or risk infecting the family. The rest of my family is thriving in the new calm that Herman’s absence is providing. I was told by them that it now finally feels like a real home. For me, I feel horribly that someone is missing, although I am grateful for the calm. So there will be no more Sundays afternoons spent with Herman, for the sanity and safety of my family.
My son Herman is an addict, although if you ask him, he will tell you differently. For those of you that have addiction in the family, you are aware of the chaos it provides. Loving and mothering an addicted child is so much more than just chaos. As mothers, our bond and love for each of our children is not measurable. In my case, I loved Herman so much that he actually had me convinced at one point that down was really up, black was really white, stop was really go… I got so caught up in the insanity, that I was compromising my true convictions, and feeling guilty and horrible about myself in the process. My initial plan was to fade quietly into the proverbial woodwork of PSST, because I felt that I was not the sort of messenger the dedicated parents from PSST needed. Adding insult to injury, Roger and I received the 2012 Parent of the Year award. The beautiful plaque that the courts gave us said we worked hard to save our son, but was also a stark reminder of our hypocrisy, because we recently gave up and quit on our son. I grimaced in embarrassment when I thought of our speech that night, proudly smiling for photos with all the juvenile justice system. What would they think of us now?
For unexplained reasons, I felt compelled to let the group know the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth (so help me Lloyd). I tested the waters by sending out an update during the last virtual meeting. I typed out the words” Roger and I told our son we could no longer have a relationship with him until he embraces recovery”. I was certainly not fishing for any compliments, and I had immediate email sender’s regret the second I clicked on send. I felt like I had quit and given up on our son. Our last interaction was a huge disaster, and could definitely go down in the PSST record books as script for best role play of what not to do. I did not remember hearing or meeting anyone in PSST who ever did that to their child. I do not remember ending the relationship ever even being considered as an option. After all, we had spent so much time together in family therapy at Herman’s many placements, practiced the tried and true skills of PSST, and now we chose to no longer have contact with each other. How could this happen? We all know the answer, addiction.
In our neighborhood, we were the shining examples of good parenting. Herman left our house handcuffed in the back seat of a police cruiser in early August 2010. A mere 17 months of placements and many PSST meetings later, Herman was transformed into the all American boy next door. People no longer recognized him, and several that did actually shook my hand, complimenting me on a job well done. The community was actually thanking me! It was a true Cinderella story, a miracle. Maybe Herman could be one of those miracles that we all applaud. However, slowly my miracle was falling apart. Herman was using again, and we stood by our word as per our contract, that after three strikes, he was out of our house for good. On January 4, 2013, eight days shy of one year that he came home, Herman moved out. Several months later, the neighbors who once complimented me were now showing concern .Through some portal, they were able to find out what I already knew,that Herman was no longer looking or acting the same. They wanted to give me a “heads up” because they were confident that I could steer Herman straight again, Roger and I just needed to re-do the magic. My initial magic was Lloyd Woodward, Kathy Tagmyer, PSST and the legal system. However we had exhausted all of the good /magic that could have ever been gotten from our dream team. Roger and I actually asked that Herman be taken off of probation in March of 2012. It was definitely the right thing to do, because we were at the point of diminishing return with Probation and placements. Roger and I felt we could and should handle this as his parents.
So what did I do or not do that caused me to feel like I was a bad mother? I will tell you it was not from the many placements and stays at Shuman. From 1/4/2013 to 4/21/2013 I let Herman show up hung over, reeking of drinking the night before, or high and smelling like weed into my home. In retrospect he was very disrespectful in many ways to both Roger and me. The other four siblings would hide in their rooms whenever he visited. Somehow I had developed a different set of standards for Herman than the other four Rabbits. Initially I was grateful that Herman was just smoking weed and not spice or thankfully to our knowledge, not using heroin. He was only expected to pay his bills, stay out of the legal system and stay alive. This was very different from the bar we had set for the other four rabbits. I was just happy to have a relationship, and let Herman be Herman. I foolishly believed that since he was no longer living in our home, I could roll with things when it came to Herman’s drug use. He was my son, my flesh and blood. A mother’s love is not measurable. I could not imagine ever not having a relationship with him, no matter the cost. I was willingly chugging the Herman Kool Aid.
I suspected Herman was abusing amphetamines, namely Adderall or “college crack” .I told him my concerns about the amphetamines, and was relieved when he told me he was just drinking and smoking weed. Things were now getting pretty bad, for I was now endorsing his drug use, a line I thought I could never cross. Meanwhile the other four were expected to not use drugs or drink alcohol, until they were legally able to drink, get good grades, excel and be honorable and accountable. Clearly I was setting a double standard. I chose to be blind to injustice, as well as to the degree of damage that the Herman chaos I was permitting was causing my other children. If you look to the right column on the blog, you will see the heart felt and powerful post written by my 17 year old daughter Kitt, titled “My God Darn Screw up Brother”. She wrote it for a school English paper, and received an A. My other daughter, Kitt’s twin sister Katt, informed me of how much time I spent helping and talking about Herman, to the point that she was very angry and sick of it, she said that she felt invisible My oldest, Zeke, who is Herman’s older brother by 14 months said that he was glad to have some respite and live at college because of the chaos. Zeke’s has many academic achievements, including consistently making the dean’s list. My youngest son Zach said he did not care, and had nothing to say. However I believe that the ones who say the least have the most to say.
Then there is Herman, the reason I am even aware of this blog. He showed up to our home still celebrating 4/20 on Sunday 4/21. Roger was working on some administrative work related things, and the other siblings were hiding in their rooms, which was the norm. I should add that I pretended to not find it strange that everyone hid when Herman came, leaving me to chatter away with mindless conversation, while washing his laundry, and clearing out my pantry of food to give him. I was saving him at least 25 dollars per week in laundry, plus saving him food expense. He now had a bigger weed/alcohol budget thanks to me. Still my head was in the sand, a fact I knew. I just loved him so much that I wanted to believe him and his delusion of doing well. The blatancy of Herman’s drug use, compounded with his diatribe of how I “wronged him by placements”, hit me squarely in the eyes that day, I cannot accurately describe the events that led up to the interactions, but succinctly said, I had it. I believe it was ultimately his disrespect of his father that finally got to me.
Roger and I both sent Herman letters to clarify our positions. I apologized for my name calling, and explained the stance we are taking. I told him that I made a huge mistake in thinking I could roll with his drug and alcohol use. The words “hear us now, believe us later, your drug use has cost you your family, but will prove to be more costly in the future”, were emphasized. Herman blames us for his drug use, and says he is using less with us out of the picture. Herman refuses to interact with me, saying I am one of his people, places and things. I guess I am, if Herman is trying to feel justified in using. In my heart of hearts I see no other way of handling this. I did everything imaginable to get him the best help and support. I did the responsible thing as a parent. There is no way that I can endorse Herman’s criminal behavior any more. We needed to protect ourselves and our family from Herman. Things were becoming progressively more chaotic and dangerous. Sadly, this was our only option. Herman told his father that this break was for the best, and that I needed to let go. So now I have Herman’s permission to let him go. Would more did I need? There is a saying “Let go, or be dragged”. I think I sometimes chose to be dragged. However I know that is not rational thinking, so I am letting go. I think it is a process that includes mourning. It has been almost 2 months since I have seen or heard from Herman, and I feel myself getting stronger. I think most rehabs say it takes 30 days to detox, I am feeling a tiny bit better about our decision.
Roger, Herman’s father, has a very different view of the situation and what we are dealing with, as well as what it did to the family. He states “As per the contract, Herman must be on his own and must now face the consequences of the real world. The dialog became abusive, disrespectful and he was still using. We needed to protect our family. We still love him, and will be there for Herman whenever he embraces recovery”.
So there you have it, the Rabbit family statement on the record. There is one last thing that I would like to share in closing, never forget the power of one kind word. Personally speaking, the comments and support I received when I reached out really helped to uplift me, to the point that I am starting to feel like myself again, and worthy to give out advice . Read More......
