Hello everyone,
My son is still in hospital. He has had a rough time since we last spoke. Further surgeries and emergencies; I almost lost him again. He is doing okay for now. I mean he’s alive. I am lucky. Some of us have lost a loved one.
I have decided to retire early which means I will be poor as I still have a mortgage, bills etc, and my pension won’t cover this, but I really do think it will be for the best. I’m excited and terrified about it in equal measures. My own health has taken a nose dive – physically more than mentally. I am struggling to come to terms with how my life has turned out due to the stress of the last decade.
But hey, , I’m a survivor. I have faith in myself that an opportunity will come along in one form or another, and I’ll be fine.
I often pop in and read about everyone and their sons on this thread. We are all good, kind and especially strong individuals now, but I feel true happiness eludes us all. Partly or mostly because of the chains of addiction, which is sad as the addictions don’t belong to us.
This time last year my son was a missing person. It’s only on reflection I can see how ill I’d become.
My mother and I sat together on Christmas Day waiting and hoping. My son turned up around 8pm, filthy and high. He had been sleeping rough on the streets of Liverpool for some weeks. We thought he was dead.
He sat and ate some food, then we coaxed him to have a bath. He injected heroin whilst in the bathroom. He came downstairs, put his new clothes on, took his Christmas money and a bottle of wine then headed off into the night. It was awful and my mother and I swore we would never have another Christmas like that again, and we won’t. This year my son will spend Christmas in hospital; brain damaged with half his skull missing. The Dr’s have prescribed methadone and other drugs every day because without these monitored medications his body would go into withdrawal and there is a good chance that would kill him. His addiction is only stable right now because he is in a clinical environment.
I could write about my sons journey for hours; forever. I won’t take up everyones time though. I just wanted to pop in to update and say Hi.
I admire all of us women ( and anyone else who finds some sort of relief from our trauma and our stories) on this site. I am sorry we are forgotten by society and there is nowhere tangible for us to go and receive help. I am so thankful that you are all out there and that I have a place where I can rant, relate and empathise. I think of you all and your sons often.
I have no answers, there have been so many ifs, buts and why’s on this incredibly sad, lonely and dangerous journey we are on.
This Christmas I will be at my mums. I haven’t really indulged in alcohol for many years because I always like to find myself in a situation where I can always jump into my car to go to the rescue, which I have done over and over again. This year my son is safe and so am I , so its Champagne and sparkly shoes all the way!
Please know that I care about all of us here.
love
Ivy x