Friday The 13th

Way back in 2007, I started a blog entitled Kitchen Legacy. I had decided to write about my love of cooking. One of my posts then was called Homecoming. I talked about the fact that my son was coming home to Ohio for break from Fashion and Design school in California and how I was planning to make old and new dishes for his homecoming. The gist of my post was all about how I communicated through my food with my son. Flash forward to now................
My son is an addict. He was an addict in 2007 and probably a year or two before that. I wasn't aware, or rather, I did not accept the fact that there was something wrong. My wake up call came a couple of years after that particular homecoming. He became a different person, eventually changing schools and then completely flunking out. The last several years have been spent living the nightmare of addiction. I have watched my son change from a wonderfully talented, loving, person into someone I can't stand to be around.
The years have been filled with lying, stealing, crying , hurting, anger, enabling and other crappy adjectives too numerous to type.
In April, just last month, my son called me on the phone at work and told me he needed to tell me something. He told me he called an 800 number from the phone book to search for a rehab and that this rehab in Florida could take him immediately. He told me he wanted, needed, to go.  I knew that his behavior had become worse but of course I , being codependent, wanted to control his decision and objected to his going to Florida. Once I got home I spoke with one of the counselors at the place and she explained that they could take him and that he needed to come right away.  A lot of yelling and argument ensued between my son and his father and I. I wanted to know EXACTLY what he was on at the time (like that mattered) and he stated he did not have to tell me. After a couple of days of this, he finally admitted he had begun to abuse Opana. He had at one point abused Vicodin and Percocet along with smoking pot and was clean for a very brief period of time.He had never done any time of actual rehab. His father and I finally relented and on Friday, April 13th, I drove him to the airport to catch a plane to Florida.
This is where I want to pick up my story from 2007. April 13th was not only a turning point for my son but for me as well. It was the day that he decided to start a journey to change his life and also the day I finally accepted that I was powerless over his addiction. I hope that what I say will help others who are going through this gain some comfort that no one is alone in this. We have since found out that he was also snorting heroin when he couldn't afford the prescription drugs and that is what brought him to the realization that he needed help. Friday the 13th has turned out to be a very lucky day in my life.