Our Parents Talk

Brandon's mother speaks…

November/December 2003

 

When we first discovered Brandon was into drugs, we went through denial. It was hard to believe because we'd taught him better. I talked myself out of it.

 

But I knew something was wrong. He didn't want to be around us, he wanted to do things away from us. He had a part-time job at the time, but we couldn't figure out what he was spending his money on. His grades dropped. He had a “don't care” attitude. If I got in the way of his going somewhere, I was his enemy.

 

The blessing was he wasn't quite 18 when we found out, so we could admit him to Ridgeview for primary treatment. He said, “You may put me in treatment, but the day I turn 18, I'm leaving and you will never see me again.” Once he was in treatment a week, the doctor said, “Do you have something to tell your parents?” He said, “Yes, I'm an addict.”

 

After primary treatment, Brandon went to Serenity House and did well. Anne was really good and people were really supportive. Before drugs, we had a good relationship with Brandon, we thought. But through family therapy at Serenity House, we realized he didn't bring his problems to us. He said he was afraid his trouble would push us over the edge, so he had to handle it himself.

 

Therapy helped our whole family. We all became closer, and we heard each other more.

 

We were not a very huggy family, now we are all huggers. I'm grateful he got treatment at an early age. Even though he had a relapse later, at least we knew something. I knew not to help him too much and let him do more himself.

 

Shortly after Brandon's dad got really sick, Brandon came to the hospital. We all went through intensive care for about a month and then the funeral. A really tough time for all of us. I don't know exactly when Brandon's relapse started, but it was a very difficult time. I didn't suspect a relapse because he'd had several years of sobriety and I'd prayed that he wouldn't. Eventually, he pulled away from me. I'd always have to call him, he wouldn't call me. Then he disappeared. We couldn't find him for a while, just got his answering machine. Then his phone was disconnected. His brother found he didn't work at his old job anymore. For a month we didn't know where he was. I learned to pray a lot. I wrote in my prayer journal, “It's been so long since we have heard from Brandon. Lord, I know you love him even more than I. Please take this worry and carry it for me.”

 

Brandon's call came early on Sunday morning, when I was getting ready for church. He said he'd used up all his friends, his money. He had no place to live and nothing to eat. I was grateful to hear from him because it had been so long. I was so worried, but there was also this dread, not knowing what was wrong.

 

I said, “Have you relapsed?” He said, “Yes.”

 

The first time I took Brandon to treatment, I had my husband, but this time I was alone. My brother went with me to South Carolina to bring him back.

 

Brandon was there in the car, fallen asleep, very hot. We got him, kind of weak, not fighting us, looked terrible, sweaty. We got him some Gatorade. I tried to talk to him, tried to ask him, “Do you want to come home with me, knowing you can't live there and use; it would put me in jeopardy. If you come home with me, you have to be willing to get help.” He was very humble, willing to get help. If I'd found him two weeks earlier, it might have been too soon. But by that time, he was ready.

 

I called Anne Ambrose. I thought Serenity House didn't take people over 25, but I knew Anne would know what to do. Serenity House had just started the Alumni Relapse Prevention Program, and they took him in, a godsend for us.

 

In my prayer journal, I wrote, “Lord, thank you that you provided people to help him. You knew he was going to need a place to live and so you have been preparing that place for a long time. Lord, thank you that Brandon is humble enough to accept help.”

 

Brandon has a lot of good in him. I'm glad that he's back on track. He's been willing to work at it. I'm proud that when he needed help he was able to reach out for it, and accept help. My faith got me through a lot of it. I had to pray about it and trust the Lord. And it was still hard.