Looking for Daddy

Tears. They stream out of me. I cannot stop the flow.
I close my eyes and feel the ache

My baby boy, my man-son. He has his own ache. The ache for a daddy.

A hero, an idol, a big strong man to throw him in the air and safely catch him
A good man to show him how a good man lives
An honorable man to teach him, love his mom, and train him

Instead: a fantasy daddy. One he could only create in his mind because his real daddy was nowhere except a voice on a random phone call. No weekend visitations. No birthday celebrations. No Christmas holidays. No weekends of fun. No.

Because a “man” cannot be a daddy when he is in prison.
He cannot be a hero when he is a drug dealer and an addict
He cannot be an honorable man when he assaults men and women who make him angry
This man cannot be a daddy.

But young boys hope, dream, and believe in daddy’s even when they are MIA
In their minds, daddy is ready to welcome his boy home and show him a good time
Young boys are confused when mommy doesn’t let them see daddy. Why?

How can mommy ever answer in a language that little boys understand?
They can’t
They try. They try hard. They try to make up for a missing daddy.
But time eventually shows that mommies cannot be daddies.

My little guy, my man-son, went in search of his daddy. How I wish he never found him.
I don’t know if I will ever know of all the realities that shattered my baby’s dream-daddy
I just now guns were involved
Domestic violence
Drugs, using and selling
And a little boy, my little guy, led astray until he became lost.
And addicted.
So lost.

So off to rehab you go.
To learn that you have lost your way. That this life you are living is a lie
And to admit you are powerless

Daddy was not the one to follow. And now you have much work to do
To find yourself
To forgive yourself
To remake yourself
God will help you, but can you trust him? Can you trust a heavenly daddy when you only have scars to show from trusting an earthly one?

My baby, this daddy is different. Please believe me.

And when you find your way
Please come home, my little guy.
I will always be here
God, how I love you. I never knew how much I could love.
So much.
My arms stretched wide “this much”
Do you remember?

Where are you - Christian parents of addicts?

I am a devout Christian and while this horror may shake my faith, I will not lose it. My God is a Living God. He is not dead. He has ears that hear, eyes that see, and hands that help and comfort. I just cannot see him very well these days. Is anyone out there also struggling with their faith? What scriptures do you hold onto? What prayers do you pray?

I love this scripture from Isaiah 49. What can be more of a tyrant than addiction? It gives me hope.

24Can the prey be taken from the mighty,
or the captives of a tyrant be rescued?
25For thus says the LORD: "Even the captives of the mighty shall be taken,
and the prey of the tyrant be rescued,
for I will contend with those who contend with you,
and I will save your children.
26 I will make your oppressors eat their own flesh,
and they shall be drunk with their own blood as with wine.
Then all flesh shall know
that I am the LORD your Savior,
and your Redeemer, the Mighty One of Jacob."

So thankful for my new online friends

Many, many, many thanks to those of you who have commented on my posts. This blogging is new to me and I had no idea how much it would help to find other moms (and dads) with hearts that ache over their addicted sons and daughters. I am glad to find you and call you my new friends.

My sister checked in with me today. The fact is, I have many friends and family that are trying to offer support and encouragement. I am thankful for them too. This is what I told her:

The truth is, I am going one day at a time. Thankfully, I am not in depressed state constantly. I have times of high energy and happiness. But my thoughts are extremely preoccupied with my Danny-boy and the crisis we are in. My emotions are up and then crash down, sometime very low. Yesterday I had a great day. Then I had a short call from him and it triggered all kinds of fear. Fortunately, Michael (my husband and Daniel's stepfather) was there and we talked and I cried. It brought us closer. He is really walking with me through this hell, and I cannot imagine doing it alone.

So, some days I am great. And then I have moments (or days) when I'm not sure I want to live. Don't worry. I am not suicidal. I just don't want to live this life that has been forced upon me. I don't know what I am doing here.

This is my first blog. Not sure what I am doing

Numb
Angry
Bewildered
How did this happen to me?
To my beautiful boy?
Where did he go? I look at him and he appears to be there. Tall, so handsome. Beautiful smile. Charming. But it’s all a façade he is not really there. Somehow, God I don’t know how, but somehow he was overtaken by this person who lies, deceives, gets high just to make it through the day. I don’t know him. Where are you? How am I to live without you? I can’t trust you. I don’t know you. Where are you?
I cry
It doesn’t help
I try to keep going. It requires pretending that everything is fine. That I am ok when I am really dying inside. Do you hear me? I am dying inside? You don’t even know. You’re clueless, wrapped up in you own selfish desires and warped reality.
Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Because you’re a helpless little thing caught in a trap and can’t free yourself? But do you get it? You’re the one that walked into it. I tried to warn you. God, didn’t I warn you? Why did you have to do it? Why did you have to?
Now I am wrecked. I can hardly work. I look at my projects and I don’t have the energy to face them. But I have to keep pretending “everything’s fine”
So now I’m the one with a ‘disease’. It’s called codependency. I call it a broken heart. It’s broken badly. It hurts worse than getting a divorce, worse than anything. If you choose to live this way I don’t want to live any more. The pain is too much for me. I wish you could hear me.