[lmacd]

Not sure where to start, the nightmare has been going on for so long. My beautiful son was born 28years ago. He being the 3rd son and much wanted. His father and I had so much hope for their future. By the time my son was 3 yrs old, I was alone bringing them up. In a refuge wondering how we would cope. I understood that they would all be affected by the chaos they had experienced during the period of their young lives and tried to love, protect and support them. I could have never realised how bad it would become. My baby son grew up with the most loving, empathtic and kind heart. He was wonderful to be with. At the age of 15 yrs, I knew that he was smoking skunk. But i had no idea how young he started to smoke this dreaded evil drug. He changed from this lovely young man. He had mood swings and was unmotivated, dropped out of college at the age of 17 yrs. He was hanging around with other peers that were into drugs from the age of 14yrs. By the age of 19yrs, his life was in chaos, he had been beaten up a few times by then. I have had to take him to casulty after one such incident. He was in trouble with the police and hanging around with young people that were into strong drugs. He never stopped asking for money and also to pay the countless debts. He was always been fined for not payment of fines that i would pay. During this time, I had met a lovely partner, who was aware of the turmoil in my life. He was not put off. We moved house, hoping that by giving my son a new start somewhere else, we could help him recover. Of course my son found new friends that were into drugs. His behaviour got more erratic. Often we would come home to find him with so called friends. Out of their heads on drugs grinning from ear to ear at us. This time was very difficult to bear. My son was lying to us to obtain money. Telling us he was in debt to dangerous people who would hurt him. I would pay these debts because I couldn’t bear to think of my son being hurt. I after all was the person that had always tried to protect him. This caused major rows between (my now husband) and me. I still protected my son at the risk of loosing my husband. My husband tried to talk to my son (my husband is counsellor). But my son would abuse him and call him the most fowl names. My husband and I would stay out of the house to keep out of firing ranch of my son’s abuse, and erratic moods swings. Often just walking around a shopping areas or sitting at work as we dreaded going home. I offered all the support i could. Offering to pay for drugs counselling. I took him to my family doctor, which frankly was useless. I looked up support groups for him. I sat with him for hours when he stated he would change. I tried to reach him by hugging him and holding him when he cried. I went to pick him up in the car, and bring him home when he was out of his head on drugs and sat with him while he slept. I fed him, buying him food that he asked for and liked. He just left the food, of course he couldn’t eat. Because i was worried at the wieght lose he looked so skinny. Nothing worked, it got worse. My husband and i asked him to leave the home after he had screamed at both of us and threatened to kill him. He went to live with family. At this time the drugs use consummed him. He had a coke problem, he confessed to us. He was asked to leave where he was living. He found a room, I paid for the deposit and the rent for months (until he got on his feet), he never got on his feet. I just kept bailing him out, food, money and debts. I won’t bore you with the rest. Needless to say, this has gone on for 2 years since he left.O something important i forgot to mention, during these years, he has threatened to kill himself over and over again. Imagine the fear and pain of worry that he might actully do it one day. I have no words for the pain i feel, it is indescribable. I have had to cut him out of my life for the moment. I cannot operate on a daily basis if i don’t. However, this by no means makes it easier, on the contrary, i feel a numbness. All i do know is, I am in my 60s now, and i can’t do this anymore. If that’s selfish or inconsiderate, i will have to live with it. What i do know is i have try to live. Yes, i will beat my self up. And ask all the questions over and over. Could i have done a better job as a mother?. Did i do this to my beautiful son?. Am i doing the right thing now?. He is about to find himself homeless again. Should I run and get him?. Hug him and say I will make it better?. What do i know?. There is one thing I am sure of though, and that is, O bloody hell, I love him and miss him. If only he knew that.

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