Detachment! It was the first word I actually heard when I walked into my first Al-Anon meeting. Of course I had heard the word before and knew its meaning, but had never really thought of it as pertaining to my life or to me as a mother. As I walked away that day, detachment became my action verb, my mantra and my salvation.
I grew up in a world, where the only detachment came from my father. He and my mother were divorced and his whole life had been detachment, as getting too close or too invested in anyone, including his family was foreign to him. You could say, it was a long standing family tradition for his side of the family. My mother on the other hand was a typical mother of her generation with the added weight of being a single mom and carrying the burden of all things physical, emotional and spiritual for us kids. She clung to us and our unconditional love and we to her. She was our everything and we were hers and she protected us from...well....everything! Yes, I learned enabling from the best.
Growing up, as was typical of most families in our generation, you didn't talk politics, religion or anything having to do with the family outside the family. You put up a good front in public at all costs and this meant parents "fixing" any mistakes or mishaps before the story got out in the community. I grew up thinking that my mom was the Superman of our family and that no matter what happened, she would make it okay. Having this example, I literally believed that it was a mom's duty to "fix" everything and to "protect" my kids at all costs....it didn't matter what they did.
Now bring on this new generation. The generation of my kids is much different than the generation I grew up in. In my generation, the fixing parents had to do was maybe a traffic violation, underage drinking or an unplanned pregnancy. We were a pretty docile group and although things seemed pretty severe at the time, they were actually a walk in the park compared to this new generation.
Maybe it was the onset of video games and the technology of computers and cell phones that started it all. Our kids spent too much time tuned in to all the wrong things and were influenced more by the world than by their own families. Maybe it was the inundation of drugs, criminals and disrespect for women and humanity in general that was thrown at them in music, TV and movies. Or....maybe it was just the fact that we as parents were so naive that we thought our kids were above the influence of drugs and the drug culture and we ourselves had no idea what to look for or even what we were dealing with. Whatever the case though, when it hit my doorstep, I didn't recognize it, didn't believe it and I did what I do best.....I was mom. I denied, enabled, protected, fixed and enabled some more.
By the time denial was no longer an option, I was so far in over my head that I was literally questioning my own sanity. My kid had at some point gotten the jump on me and he was completely out of my league when it came to manipulation, control and gas lighting. Things I never could have imagined him doing including but not limited to being abusive verbally and physically to me and other women, going after family members and neighbors and stealing, seemed to come easy to him. I lied for him though, I protected him and made excuses for him. I was running around behind him constantly trying to "fix" the havoc and chaos he left in his path. In the process I was becoming more inundated in a world of drugs and violence, a world that I never wanted to be a part of. My son was going down a horrific path and I was tagging along as much a part of his destruction as he was. I was aiding and abetting every time I "fixed" his chaos.
Each day, along with the hell his addiction was bringing to my life, I was also finding that I was hating me more and more. I had turned into a liar. I was lying to everyone, family, friends and complete strangers all in the name of protecting my son. I was losing the battle with my son and addiction and I was losing control of my own life in the process. Many days I didn't have the strength or the will to even get out of bed, let alone fight the next battle or battles that would undoubtedly hit me that day. Looking back, I was becoming depressed. I was also starting to have to deal with anxiety, something that was new to my life. Panic attacks were now becoming just a part of my day. So was crying. I was not an emotional crier, but the frustration and anger were building up in me and my emotions were nothing but one raw nerve. It seemed like daily I was being pushed to the brink and hard as I tried, those damn tears would get the best of me.
On the outside looking in, my home must have looked like a dysfunctional hell and I must have looked like I was turning into this lying, delusional and withdrawn crazy woman. People knew something was going on. Heck, most probably knew that drugs were the problem before I did and my family and friends were just about ready to throw in the towel where I was concerned. After all, you can only do so much and say so much to someone who is so immersed in denial that they are drowning in a foot of water and refuse to stand up. Lucky for me, I eventually got a good look at myself, my life and the other family members that my sons addiction was affecting....and I did stand up.
When I heard that word detachment that day, I clung to it with all I had. I heard people in that meeting discuss how hard detachment could be and how long it took some to achieve it, but for me, in that moment, it was my key out of the hell I was living in. I do remember wondering if I was going to be able to carry through with this new found verb. After all, detachment meant that I could no longer voice an opinion and demand that it not only be heard but also carried out, that I could no longer manipulate, coerce and that I was no longer in control of his life. (Little did I know that I never really had been.) Still though, I knew at that moment that if it meant me no longer feeling crazy, used, disrespected, depressed, anxious...did I say crazy.....then I was going to give it my best effort.
My first attempts at detachment were small in retrospect but huge at the time. The first time I left him off at a gas station not knowing where he was going or what he was doing. The first time I refused a phone call from him or cut a text short because he was being hateful and demanding. In the moment they were enormous for me as a week ago I couldn't have done it. Then there was finding out he was living on the street. I struggled because what mother allows their kid to live on the street? Then there was the first time he got beat up on the street. I did immediately run to his aid, but on the way there I used my Al-Anon tools and questioned what the real story was. By the time I got there, my head was in a much different place and the event did not turn out as my son had hoped. I left him on the street.
As time went on though, detachment did become easier. The gift in detachment though, was that by staying out of his life, his business, his world of drugs and addiction, I started seeming him differently too. When you are on the inside of a situation, your vision is often obscured because of the turmoil. Mine definitely had been. But when you step outside and look in, often it clears your vision and you see things in a much different way. Instead of seeing my son as this addicted monster who I could hardly stand anymore, I was starting to see a good human being with a really bad problem. I also was realizing that because of my own actions of denial, fixing and enabling, I had been as much a part of his problem as his addiction had been a part of mine. How many times had I stepped in and "fixed" a problem for him that maybe was intended as a life lesson? Perhaps if he had faced that problem himself, that lesson would have been learned a lot sooner. Detachment was giving me clarity I had never before had.
Don't get me wrong. Detachment didn't come over night and it wasn't always an easy road for me. There were times when I struggled and I had to go to a meeting, talk to my sponsor, talk to my person outside of Al-Anon or all three before I could detach from the situation, but each time I had peace of mind following it and it always turned out to be the right thing for both me and my son.
When they say addiction is a disease that affects the whole family, they aren't lying. It does. Nothing can destroy a family faster than an addiction. That is why recovery is a family thing and not just for the addict. Sometimes, the addict never chooses recovery but if the family seeks recovery, the family situation will definitely improve.
I pray everyday that my son...my addict, will eventually seek recovery, but through Al-Anon and my ability to detach with love, I know that his recovery will never be my choice, but his. Because of this, through my own recovery, I have learned to focus on me, change me and be the best me that I can be. After all, I am the only one I have any control over. In the process, I am also learning to be a better mom not only to my addict but also to the rest of my children and I am forging a new and better relationship with my addicted son.
Detachment. It was a gift given to me at a time when I was dark and desolate, body, mind and soul. Detachment gave me new life and allowed me to change the one thing I really could.....ME!
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