Saturday, May 26, 2007

A sickening thought

Last night I received a phone call from a crack motel a few miles from my home. It is where C was before he kicked him my front door. I didn't get a chance to catch the call before it stopped ringing. I called back. No answer. The front desks at those crack motels don't exactly have high customer service policies. My first thought was, "Oh Lord, he left rehab and is back on crack!". I hurt all over. I felt like someone punched me. I slowed down. I would put the kids in the car and drive there and confront him then and there! It was 11 and that is a pretty shady part of town. In my area the good areas are always next to the bad ones. So I laid down in bed and thought to myself for a little bit. What good would it do? It was a recurring thought. I couldn't change him, control him and I know I didn't cause it. I relaxed. There was nothing I could do to stop him. Nothing. I guess I finally get it. I woke up and called the rehab. Tomorrow is parent's day and I drop the kids off for 4 hours of quality time. I sure wasn't going to drive my babies up there only to find out there that he had left. The receptionist heard my story and their policies don't allow that type of info to be given by anyone but his caseworker. (but he whispered that C was still there)
It made me think of a blog I read about lying. I read it A Room of Mama's Own and I read it yesterday. The long and short was: what can I do about it? And it is true. I wish that I had learned this lessons years ago. I guess I wasn't ready. I am relieved that he is there but more, I am relieved that I truly let go! I don't mean of my love, but of his problem. What a free feeling! I wish that everyone dealing with addiction could feel it. It took me 61/2 years to get it. It will end up being a great day!

1 comment:

joy said...

You know, I actually just had a very similar experience. My husband took the car and said he'd be back in 5 minutes. 45 minutes later, he's still not back. I call him, and his phone rings here (he didn't take it with him). I start the process of freaking out: ohmygodhe'susinghe'shighhe'sgoingtowreckthecar etc...he comes back about 15 minutes into my fit, says he got lost, is clearly not high, and I'm all bent out of shape for nothing.

These guys have really worked numbers on us. I've got to get better, like you have, at stepping back and letting go.

AND, I've got to not let him take my car. If he's going to go meet his freakin' heroin dealer, it's not going to be on my wheels.