Wow! I haven’t posted in a year and a half. Life has been so busy!!!(more about that later). Suddenly, I have an increase in views. I’m freaking out!

I thought maybe a hack? Changed my password but the views keep coming.

Not sure what it is?!

Maybe someone linked my blog?

The last year has been sooo stressful. My sister was diagnosed with cancer and I am her sole caretaker. After chemo and radiation, she had surgery. Spent 64 days in the hospital. It’s been one hell of a rollercoaster ride. We thought she made it passed all that, but recently, scans show progression and she has been given less than 6 months to live.

All this while dealing with addiction also, but glad to say my AS has 125 days sober today. He has been a huge help with me and my sister.

Now, we are spending all of our time working on my sisters bucket list.

So while some things are better, others are not.

I’m curious to see why the sudden increase in views . I swear , when I get past with all I am dealing, I will post more.

24 minutes

24 Minutes.

That’s it.

My son overdosed again and that is all it took for the emergency room physician to examine him and release him.

The local police filed a Marchman Act on him.

The Marchman act is a Florida Law that is similar to a Baker Act but specifically for drug addicts.

The Marchman act allows for an involuntary hold for people that meet the following requirement:

1. Has lost the power of self-control with respect to substance use; AND EITHER

2a. Has inflicted, or threatened or attempted to inflict, or unless admitted is likely to inflict, physical harm on himself or herself or another; OR

b. Is in need of substance abuse services and, by reason of substance abuse impairment, his or her judgment has been so impaired that the person is incapable of appreciating his or her need for such services and of making a rational decision in regard thereto; however, mere refusal to receive such services does not constitute evidence of lack of judgment with respect to his or her need for such services. ”

In 24 minutes, the ER resident physician decided that he did not meet the requirements of the Marchman act.

The Marchman act is suppose to be treated like a Baker act with a mandatory 72 hour hold.

24 minutes is all it took to loose the only opportunity that we have had since his relapse last year , to get my adult son treatment.

In 24 minutes, all my hope was shattered.

How?? How can a recent overdose victim, NOT meet that criteria?

I received the call at 4:30 in the morning.

His Meth addict girlfriend called me in a panic.

I rushed to the hospital and asked to speak to his physician.

I explained that the last time this happened, he was released in 30 minutes.

The cocky resident physician said…

“This time, I am releasing him in 24 minutes”

First of all, he received 2 doses of Narcan.

Narcan wears off in 90-120 minutes.

The risk of a fatal overdose increases a tenfold in the immediate 24 hours following administration of Narcan.

When Narcan wears off, they are in immediate withdrawal.

Not to mention, he was still under the influence of the other drugs in his system.

That is sooooo wrong!

I have filed a complaint.

I will NOT be silent about the horrible treatment that addicts and their families receive.

BIG things are happening, just in a matter of days.


Updates will follow, I promise.


I need to apologized for not writing more often.

I started this blog for self therapy but the past few months I have been trying to work on myself.

I have been attending counseling and meetings. I have also been attending community opioid task force meetings and trying my best to make a change.

After all…

Nothing changes if nothing changes.

But my goal is to update more frequently.

And big things are happening.

Judged by the “Judge” and everyone else.

As a parent of an addict, I am constantly judged. I am judged if I do too much and judged for not doing enough.

All of this “judging” comes just from the fact that I have a child that is an addict. Nothing more.

None of these self proclaimed judges “know” what I have or haven’t done.

This is one of the stigmas of addiction that needs to change.

It’s always “assumed” that the parent must be an “ENABLER.

I hate that word!

The first time I met my son’s public defender- she looked at me and said “You do not understand how bad your son is.”

My response was “Yes, I do. I have lived with it. I have Narcan stashed in every room. So YES, I do understand how “bad” my son is.

During my son’s year in drug court, the judge insisted that he had a job instead of going to school. My son’s PD requested that I advocate for my son in this matter and set up a meeting with me and the drug court team in the judges chambers.

The judge and the team INSISTED that he work. I told them all that they had more experience in this matter and if that is what they felt was best, then so be it. But I did warn them that, a paycheck in his pocket was a huge trigger, like with all addicts.

I also told them that “We are all on the same team! And we all want XXXX to be sober.”

A few weeks go by and several court appearances later… and I received the biggest shock ever.

The JUDGE proceeded to call me an “enabler” in open court when my sons name was called. Told my son to ignore me and get away from me.

WTF!!! I was mortified.

Of course, I am not at the podium and unable to defend myself at all.

How did he come to this conclusion??? Assumptions, just like everyone else.

Not once, did he or any drug court member ask me exactly what my husband and I have done as parents for my son’s addiction.

Again, with stereotyping.

But I do understand. With mine and my husband’s medical background, there are tons of stereotypes for patients. I get it. I don’t “blame” him at all. But a nice sit down conversation with me would have been a better route, I think.

Come to find out, the judge himself has an addict child.

Maybe he projected his life onto me. Who knows?

Luckily, that judge is no longer on drug court. I honestly felt it was a “conflict of interest” and too close to home.

But in reality, none of this really matters.

My son is still an addict.

The Heartache and Hurt of Loving an Addict

It doesn’t matter who you are, loving an addict is painful. You can be a spouse, brother, sister, girlfriend or parent, it hurts just the same to watch someone you love become nothing but an empty shell of a person.

I have known no greater heartache than that of being an addict’s mom.

My heart has been crushed a million times over. My hope is dwindling down.

As I sit here and type, tears are rolling down my face. I can usually hold it together but today has been especially bad. I have transitioned from anger to tears and back to anger a million times in the past eight hours.

When you think things can’t be any worse, the addict surprises you and proves that wrong.

If you have a weak moment of heart, they take advantage of it.

When you want to believe in them, they lie straight to your face.

The only thing they love is the drug. And they will do anything to get it.

And we, the loved ones, are left hurting. Sometimes the pain is so great it becomes physical. And sometimes, I just want to crawl into a closet and cry and ignore everyone and everything. I just don’t want to deal with anything especially an addict.

I did absolutely nothing to deserve this pain except love my son, an addict.

Don’t get me wrong- I am usually a very strong person but just sometimes, the pain is to great to bear.

But instead of crawling my head into a hole, I did what I always do for the past 28 years- call my dearest friend, the one who’s son was killed by a drunk driver just 84 days ago.

She has her own pain to deal with and I could never imagine being in her shoes. But as usual, she always has the right things to say.

You see, her brother was an addict too. He died from his abuse. She understands.

He put her parents and family thru living hell. And that is exactly what addiction is to everyone involved, not just the addict.

What we all need is someone that understands.

As I have said before:

The addict has an escape-the drugs.

The family has no escape of the reality.

An Open Letter To My Drug Addicted Son

I remember the day I found out I was pregnant with you. I was told I wouldn’t be able to have children.  

 I was excited and in shock.

I carried you for 9 months.  I felt your first movement of life.

And when you were born, it was the happiest day of my life.

Born with you, were all my hopes and dreams for your future.

You were such an easy baby. A happy child. Your smart, funny, persistant. You were always such a joy to be around. There wasn’t a person that didn’t like you or that could say anything bad about you.

You were voted by your classmates as most likely to become famous, and also the class clown.

You taught yourself to play guitar and you were so good at it.

And I miss hearing you play.

I miss a lot of things about you.

Your laugh, your jokes. The times we sit around the dinner table talking and discussing everything.

I miss your beautiful smile.

Things I haven’t seen in awhile.

I never asked to be an addict’s mother. It is a role that nobody could ever be prepared for. There isn’t a book titled “What to Expect when you’re an addict’s mother.”

The hardest thing I have ever had to do is to sit on the sideline and watch you deteriorate back into an empty shell time and time again, knowing I am helpless to help you.

Nothing reaches you. And its sad and scary at the same time.

From the first time you used a drug, you disappeared and the past seven years, we all have been living in a dark abyss.

This life you are leading… is NOT you.

I know this because of the sober times you have had, sometimes months at a time. This just makes it harder on everyone when you continuously return to drugs.

You don’t relapse.

You dive right off a cliff.

Each time, worse than the last, deeper in the water and harder to reach.

The past 2 months you have had 3 hospitalizations all due to drug use and robbed at gunpoint.

When will you hit the bottom? Do you even have one?

A month ago, we sat and talked, while you were sober in the hospital. You held my hand ever so tight as tears ran down your face.

I know you don’t want to be like this. I know you are struggling. I can see and feel your pain.

Please hit the bottom soon because I am not prepared to be an Angel mom or a prison mom.

As I told you when you held my hand, you are not in this alone.

As long as you are still breathing, there is hope.

It’s time to make the choice to change.  

I will always love you more than you ever know.

Childhood trauma and the ACE score

When you go to meetings, IOP or counseling, there is a lot of talk about childhood traumas as a cause of addiction.

The ACE study ( Adversed Childhood Experiences) formulated a score to access one’s risk of addiction. Factors such as:

Having an addicted parent

Having a parent that’s been incarcerated

Being sexual abused

Having a parent that’s been physically abused

Growing up in a home with lots of yelling

Having a family member that’s depressed or has a mental illness

Having parents that are divorced or separated

I wholeheartedly agree that any of those could lead to drug abuse and addiction.

But what if none of those apply?

Every counselor and meeting continuously talks about childhood trauma .

I have to wonder what trauma my son had?

Was it the private school education?

Or maybe the yearly family vacations and the summers spent fishing in the Florida Keys ?

Maybe it was the nightly discussions and debates at the dinner table covering any and every topic, from politics, world events, etc.

Or maybe it was just having two parents very much in love, who love their children too much? Who believed that spending and investing time with their children was the most important thing as a parent and as a family.

I know plenty of people who did suffer trauma as children who are not addicts.

And I know people, my son included, who suffered no trauma and still became addicts.

So I really don’t buy into the meetings that constantly talk about it.

I think it’s more to do with genetics and personality traits.

I believe the drug problem is worse today because society as a hole is worse.

Just my opinions.

Two deaths in two days

Sorry I haven’t been around. Life has been stressful.

This past week, I’ve spent several days in ICU waiting room with my oldest, dearest best friend.

Her beautiful boy was hit by a drunk driver a week ago. He was on a motorcycle and was wearing a helmet.

Today he joined the angels in heaven. He was only 24. He leaves behind a beautiful young widow and 2 very young innocent children.

He was loved by so many. Was an awesome kid. Never in any trouble. Not a single person could say anything bad about him.

It was horrible to watch his mother and wife say their last goodbyes as his heart made its last beat.

There are no comforting words for my dear friend or his wife.

It’s every parents worst nightmare to loose a child .

During the midst of all of this, my sister received “the call” that my niece had died of an overdose. She had battled addiction for the past twenty years. She was found alone in a motel room.

Her drug addiction had alienated her from everyone.

It’s sad. So very sad.

Two different scenarios but with the same heartache and pain.

Life is so unfair.

Something needs to be done because the current models of therapy and treatment just don’t work.

And I can only hope that the saying “bad things happen in three’s” is wrong.

I can’t handle another bad thing right now.

Hope for the Best~ Prepare for the Worst

So it’s been 6 days since my son overdosed and was REVIVED with 3 doses of narcan. 

I am hopeless. 

I try to have hope but he makes it  impossible. 

He is in denial. Doesn’t think he has a problem. Refuses any and all help. He has this all under control. It was just an accident.

I know there is nothing I can do or say to him right now. 

Nothing that hasn’t already been said. 

Nothing we haven’t already tried. 

All I can do is start planning his funeral. I have to do this for me. Because I realize that there is no possible way I could deal with it when the time comes. 

I am purchasing a pre paid funeral plan. 

I asked him to come over to talk. 

I asked him what his preferences are. 

I think he didn’t take any of it serious. Thought it was a huge joke. But hopefully he will think about it. 

I was surprised that he wants to be buried. I told him maybe a good thing because at least I will have a place to go visit, mourn and place flowers. 

He could only come up with 2 friends to be pallbearers. You need 6-8. 

He said his sister can read the eulogy. I’m not sure she will be able to get thru it. His addiction has affected her so much. She is in counseling for it. 

They were so close growing up. Only 17 months apart. They were best friends. Until the drugs started. He hasn’t given her the time of day for 7 years. And still- she cries everyday over him. 

He has no idea of music, verses , poems or anything. 

I will need to decide all this myself. And like I said, I will do it now because I won’t be able to deal with it when the time comes.

I asked him what his obituary shall say. He had no idea. He has no accomplishments to list. Unless you count graduating drug court- only to use again. 

My heart is so heavy. He has no idea of the burden his drug use has placed on the family. And nor does he care. 

The drugs have made him blind to anything and everything. He is an empty shell .

 He has no idea how much he is loved, how much his choice to use drugs have wrecked havoc and destruction in anyone’s life in his path. 

The addict has an escape— the drugs. 

The family has no escape of the reality. 

It hurts. 

It hurts so much. 

There is no greater pain than mourning the loss of a loved one that is still alive

At least with death there is closure. 

But as long as he is breathing- 

I will try to find hope. 

The Call

So I got “the call” this morning but NOT actually “final” call.

My son overdosed last night. A first for him but I’m sure it won’t be the last.

EMS was called. They gave him 2 doses of nasal narcan and then one dose IV.

The police told me they were Marchmen acting him.

Of course, I freaked out. I called his girlfriend to try to get his roommates phone number.

I told her what the police told me.

Well, the police wanted him held but the ER doctor released him.

He says he was just “drunk”.

Narcan doesn’t work if you are just “drunk”.

Now- he is calling me DEMANDING that I tell his girlfriend I over reacted. Apparently she wants to break up with him over his use of drugs.

Yet somehow, this is my fault?

Says if I don’t “fix” this, he really will od?

What am I suppose to do?

Nothing- I know there is nothing I can do.

I’m just numb.

Not sure if it’s my medical background or what? I have given CPR to more people than I can count. I have seen numerous people die.

And I have been dealing with his drug use for seven years.

I’m just numb and done.