On a daily basis we face adversity. Some of those moments are as simple as what we are having for dinner or what movie we are seeing or who is picking up the kids. Others can be extreme moments about expenses in life, marital problems or dreams turned into nightmares. We assume that during those times that everyone will cope well while supporting each other. It is an expectation but that is a green truth because assumptions require no work, no actual knowledge or skill. Serious adversity can and does bring out the worst in people. Each of us faces traumas and the challenges of life in our own way defined by our own emotional definitions. Those skills or lack there of are learned and created starting in our childhood. They are then reflected in our teen years and on up into our adulthood. We either turn towards each other, away from each other, against each other or even towards “the apple” (which can be drugs, alcohol, another person, or anything). The mirror knows the real truth about all of us especially when it involves adversity.
After the doctor had told us that Ryan was probably not going to make it through the night, the room had fallen silent. Everyone was looking at me and waiting for my reaction. My emotions had spun between shock, anger and devastation. The first person to break the silence had been my husband. He had said something. Something that had not made sense. I had ignored it. My youngest brother had been the next to speak. He had asked me, “Are you alright?” How could I have been alright? What had that meant? I had just been told that my son would probably die during the night. My answer was “No. No I am not all right”. I was not able to breathe, think or feel. Drugs had turned the poster child into a fallen angel and death had arrived to claim his soul.
I had needed to find Ryan’s dad. I had called him. There had been no answer. I had then tried his wife. I had left multiple messages on both of their phones. When she finally called me back, she had told me that my ex was in another state at a retreat. He had not had access to a phone. I had told her that she had to find him. That he had to get here. I had said that Ryan was alive because of a machine but that he wasn’t expected to make it through the night. She had told me that she would try but could not promise she could reach him. I had prayed that he would be found in time.
I remember each of those moments from that trauma as if it had happened yesterday. The perfect hand off of a broken phone as that fateful phone call had come in. That drive to the hospital. Talking to Ryan before having them intubate him. The doctor. The curtain. The little room. All the people that had been in it. My husband’s words and actions. My brother’s words. The machine that had breathed for Ryan. Even trying to reach Ryan’s father. Every single sight, sound, and smell has stayed with me because traumas can never be unseen or unfelt. Every action or reaction has far reaching effects whether we are aware of it or not. With time I have been able to learn to embrace those moments because they are as much a part of me as all the good ones.
Despite the people in that room or even the phone calls that had occurred, I was completely alone. I was the mother of an addict who was alive because of a machine. No one else in that room had ever held that position nor would they have wanted to. The only other person who had come close to understanding that pain had been Ashlee. As her brother had lay dying, she had been angry and scared. Taylor was at a friend’s and completely unaware of what had happened. When emotions are felt in such extreme levels under such an intense circumstance, there is no way to know how to handle that. Even if someone else had been able to describe that pain to us, we still would not have been prepared. After all it was our pain. Our reaction.
Ryan’s father had finally called. He was boarding a plane immediately after having driven to the nearest airport that was a couple of hours away. He was arriving at almost midnight. I had felt relief and yet I also had felt fear. What if Ryan had died by then? What if his dad didn’t get to say goodbye? What if Ryan died while I was picking his dad up from the airport? I had thought about that as I waited for the next two hours to pass before I would be allowed back into that ICU room where Ryan lay sleeping. Alive because of a machine but dead because of drugs.
Everyone sins. Drugs love the fallen angel. We ARE in hell. The green truth won’t help us cope. The mirror is getting bigger. We can run but we can’t hide. The snake is smiling. I HATE DRUGS. The apple is a friend of death…
Drugs do not judge nor do they discriminate. They love and thrive on all pain equally regardless of education, money, position, religion, etc. or lack there of. Drugs welcome with open arms: the lost, the weak, the traumatized, the abused, the forgotten, the unheard, those who can’t cope, those that it is normal for… and even those who appear to have had a good life. The snake uses the green truth to lure all of them in with the promise of purging their pain at little cost.
The real truth is that the snake LIES about the apple to those who use and those who haven’t yet started. The falsehood of freedom flows from it’s venomous mouth. In the moment that the apple is bitten, a soul is placed up for sale. Once the drugs begin to wear off, the pain rises to the surface and more is needed to cope. Drugs appear to be a caring friend but with each passing use, drugs are slowly replacing the emotional definitions of the user with its own. Drugs are a nightmare in a pretty package.
The room that Ryan overdosed in had had drug paraphernalia all over it. Ashlee had been there while the paramedics worked on Ryan and had told me about it. Even though I hadn’t seen it, I do have a visual that comes to mind whenever I think about the trauma of that day. The home had belonged to someone who had worked for the police department. Someone who was unaware or couldn’t cope or was waiting for the right moment for it to all change. I had hated, for years, that someone for allowing those things to happen in his/her home that had affected my son…until I realized that someone was not unlike me. It had been easier to blame what was in front of me just as it had been easier for others to blame me for their choices.
There had been several addicts who had used with my son in that room during that night. I do not know exactly how many were there when they had discovered Ryan in his overdosed state later in the morning. I do know that 2-3 of them had attempted to lift Ryan up in order to dump his body in an alley. Out of sight, out of mind. He was too heavy for them and they had been forced to call the paramedics. The call I had received about Ryan had come from one of those 2-3. How hard or easy had it been for him to call me right after having tried to get rid of my son? That thought enraged me for years until I realized that if a dream, a poster child, had been willing to destroy himself, then he certainly would have been willing to destroy Ryan. To destroy anyone. That was drugs emotional definitions at its worst.
Once I had arrived at the hospital, I was immediately rushed back to the emergency room where Ryan was. I had expected the worst but I had found him awake on the gurney and able to speak. I was so happy. In my head I had thought he might have suffered brain damage from oxygen deprivation but he was fine. He had told me that “he had not messed up”. I had told him that “I knew that”. After all, I thought he had drunk alcohol because of that phone call. I had breathed a sigh of relief. I was smiling as I left to go to the little room where family and friends could wait in private.
Ashlee was there and had already spoken to Ryan. As I entered the room, Chad, a young man we had been friends with since he was a kid asked if he could go speak to Ryan. He had told his boss he was leaving work. He had not cared if he was fired for it. I had walked him to that curtain and returned to the room. As family and friends entered, I had reassured each of them that Ryan was fine. Chad returned and had told me that the doctor had needed to speak with me. I had been sure that Ryan would be released in a few hours because he was awake and had been able to speak. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than that had been close but he had not suffered any real damage.
As I had walked back into the curtained area, the doctor told me that Ryan’s lungs were shutting down. They had needed to intubate him or he would die. Ryan was speaking. He was telling me not to let them. He said he really would die if they did that. I was turning between Ryan and the doctor as they both spoke with force. I was stunned. Wait. What? He was fine. He was speaking now. He spoke before. How could that have been possible? The doctor had told me to step out. I turned to Ryan, leaned down and in a quiet voice I had told him “It would be okay. That he had to do this or he would die”. I left and had stood by myself just outside of the curtain area.
Even when the doctor had called me back in, I was still not processing what he was saying. I was in shock. As I answered the doctor’s questions about Ryan’s drug use, Ryan’s blood pressure had sky rocketed. The doctor had yelled at me to be quiet. Even though he had been heavily sedated, he was still able to hear my voice. The doctor had ordered the nurse to give him more “drugs” to quiet him down. The stress on his lungs had also stressed his heart. There had been a concern he would have a heart attack. The irony was that if Ryan had been awake, he would have loved that they had needed to use more drugs to sedate him.
Once again I was sent to that little waiting room. More people had come in while I was gone. I had let everyone know that the doctor had had to intubate Ryan. Despite that seriousness, we had not thought or wanted to believe anything other than Ryan would be fine. Everyone was talking as if we had gotten together for the holidays. There had even been a moment of laughing just as the doctor had walked in to that little room. He had looked directly at me as he spoke. His voice had sounded angry as he had said the words, “Do you not understand?!? He is probably NOT GOING TO MAKE IT THROUGH THE NIGHT!!!”.
A dream became a nightmare. A soul was sold. Drugs tricked all us. The mirror told the truth but we didn’t listen. Everyone lies. Everyone enables. The poster child and the fallen angel are no more. I can’t breathe. I…just…can’t…breathe…
The reality of living with a drug addict had conflicted with my concept of living a happy life. My notion of happiness hadn’t been filled with elaborate details as it had resembled more of a cliff note book. It was a guide that had been developed in my life on what had needed to be done in order to achieve that. That cliff note book had had a limited view which left out a lot of the particulars and ultimately led to misconceptions. It had failed to teach me how to deal appropriately with adversity. The green truth had been that a pretty package always contained a pretty present. Reality had been that no matter how pretty the package had appeared, what was inside would have still been a mess if a mess had been in the package to begin with. Optimism and denial helped to keep that out of my view.
The other part of that reality was that dealing with a drug addict had not been in my parenting handbook. I had not planned for that. I had not learned how to deal with that even when my ex had walked that path. The dream that had become a nightmare had appeared out of no where because I was sure Ryan was fine. After all, I had known to show up. I had known how to work hard. I had not however recognized that emotional definitions, unknown traumas and the reactions to them had outweighed the visual of all that work. Just because it was out of sight did not mean it was out of mind. I had heard but had not listened. I had watched but had not seen. I had been asleep assuming that everyone was doing the right thing because we had appeared to be. The impression of that hard work on the surface had hidden the state of untidiness beneath in all of us. Appearances may have happy moments but ultimately they can never truly lead to happiness nor can they help solve adversity.
Time was moving quickly. I had been very busy working a new job that had required a lot of learning as well as out of the box thinking. I was moving through life doing all the things that I had believed to be necessary. I had balanced work and home life successfully but no matter what it hadn’t been the work that was needed. The normalcy of life was where I had turned because I was comfortable with it. Ultimately I had ended up rearranging the appearance of that very same package while never really opening it to deal with the mess inside. The reality was that adversity was a test that none of us could pass even if a life depended on it. The mirror had known the truth but I hadn’t wanted to.
Thanksgiving was approaching and my ex had requested that Ryan go on a trip with him to another state. Whether or not it was a good idea, a whole week without the worry of Ryan had been a much needed reprieve. He, of course, had jumped at the chance to go with his dad. I had had hope in that. Hope that if Ryan was willing to leave for a week, things must have been okay. I also had hoped that the trip was a good sign that my ex was able to step up for Ryan. It was as if I had just kept waiting for the moment that it all would have changed. We hadn’t gotten here in a moment but I was sure that’s all it would take. Just the right moment.
Ryan seemed happy when he had returned from his trip. They had hiked and seen some landmarks. There were pictures to celebrate their time together. There were smiles in those pictures and yet I had missed that his eyes had not reflected that sense of happiness I had seen on his mouth. His father had talked about all the things they had done when he returned Ryan to me. It had seemed as if we had made it through and things would be okay.
The day after his return, Ryan had requested to spend the night at a friend’s house. Part of ensuring an addict stays sober is knowing who they are with and where they are. I had agreed to it but some how I hadn’t felt right about it. We may realize that addicts lie but the green truth is assuming other’s don’t. Here a lie. There a lie. Everyone lies. Just because you think you know their friends doesn’t mean you truthfully do. Private and public personas are two very different things. Happy people don’t alter their state of being but unhappy people do, sometimes in secret. It is impossible to watch every moment and every person while living the normalcy of life.
I had told Ryan that he needed to call me in the morning. He had said he would and I had believed him. When the morning passed and there was no phone call, I was angry. He had lied and I had not wanted to deal with it or him. I had headed off to my hair appointment that was scheduled for noon. My hairdresser was running behind by 30 minutes so I had sat looking at various magazines while trying not to think about how angry I was. Discovering that things had not been alright was crushing. I had needed time to figure out what I was going to have to do. It had felt like Ryan’s addiction affected every moment of my life. Both Ryan and I were consumed with drugs but for very different reasons.
My hairdresser had only been working on my hair for a few minutes when my phone rang. She had told me to answer it and I had said no. No because it was probably Ryan and I had not wanted to talk to him. She had picked up my phone that had been on the top of my purse and handed it to me. My phone was broken and if it was not picked up the right way, it would hang up on the caller. The memory of that day, of her handing me my phone in that perfect way, plays in my mind as if it had only happened yesterday.
I answered. The number calling had been Ryan’s. I am sure my tone was unfriendly as I said hello. Someone was speaking. It wasn’t Ryan. The caller had asked me if I was Ryan’s mom. I had said, “Yes, who is this?”. He told me that they had not been able to wake Ryan up. That he had blood in his mouth and his nose. He had said that the paramedics were on their way and that I should go to the hospital. I had asked what he had done although I do not know, to this day, why I asked that. What did it even matter? The caller had said that he had drunk alcohol and then hung up. Hung up. I hadn’t even known what hospital to go to. That trauma has stayed with me just like everyone else’s stays with them because traumas can’t be unseen or unfelt. Even if they are out of sight, it does not mean they are out of mind.
Ashlee was the first person I had called. She had known where he was and was able to get to him quickly. As the paramedics worked on him, she had relayed their questions and my answers. I was in shock as I drove to the nearest hospital and as the ambulance was on its way, he coded…
The snake whispered. The green truth sucks. Here a lie, there a lie, everywhere there are lies. The tree fell. Everyone enables. I hate drugs. The mirror won’t leave me alone. The apple is a friend of death. Give me my poster child back now!
I was screaming at the top of my lungs but no one had seemed to notice. They had not heard me because no noise was actually coming from my mouth. It was only inside my head. I had not understood how this had ever came to be nor why we had returned. This home was hell and it was not a place I had wanted to be. Silently I was slipping into despair while trying to maintain the normalcy of daily life. I was not able to cope but I was functioning. I had not known what to do and had resorted to the behaviors I was comfortable with. Everyone else had stayed the same too. Do as I say not as I do was the theme of our lives. If a tree in the forest is affected and at risk for falling, the whole forest must be helped. If the tree does fall, then blaming it for the wellbeing of the rest of the forest is a green truth…especially when the forest had been a part of affecting that tree right from the beginning.
I am not sure when the descent back into hell occurred. Was it one minute after we returned from rehab? One day? A week later when Ryan’s father came to town and was on drugs? Or the next? It doesn’t really matter. Any day or any moment can lead to an addict listening to the whispers of the snake and reaching for the apple. Any situation can be the excuse to justify the use of drugs to cope. There had not been enough time to repair the damage caused by the traumas nor the need to run from them in 90 days or less. There had not been enough time to destroy the monster that lived in my son or even in all of us.
I had refused to see that the poster child was dead. Denial had flowed naturally through me even though I would have told you that it was optimism that had kept me going. Optimism that the same behavior today as yesterday as tomorrow, from all of us, would result in a different outcome. Optimism had kept me from seeing the truth and denial made sure it had stayed hidden. I had liked the green truth back then because it was less painful.
The rehab had recommended that Ryan go to a halfway house in another city or even another state. I had not chosen to do that with him. Why? Because I had believed that this was a moment not a life. Because I had thought I had this. Because I had believed that all the people in the circle would step up including myself and Ryan. Although we had been willing to pay for the rehab, we had not been willing to pay the real cost for our sins which was changing us. By having pointed our fingers at him, we had been able to keep the mirror firmly behind us. We had expected that he would change and yet we had denied him the right to have us change too. Perhaps a halfway house would have helped but he still would have had to return to us and our same behaviors. How long would he have stayed sober then? Why wouldn’t we have been willing to do whatever it took to save one of our own even if it meant looking into that mirror?
The word enable means to give someone the ability to do something. Was I an enabler of Ryan? Of course I was. I had not followed through when I should have on many occasions. My behavior was obvious and that was what made it so easy for others to blame me. The definition, however, has a very broad scope not the simple one that most identify with. If everyone was doing the right thing then the influence of one person would not have been powerful enough to destroy.
A multitude of people enabled Ryan in a variety of ways. By not changing and stepping up for Ryan, others enabled him to justify his drug use. By others not being accountable, Ryan had followed them down the same road. By others lying, he had learned that it wasn’t important to tell the truth. By shifting blame on to him, he had learned that his feelings did not matter. By his father providing him with money, he had learned manipulation. By his step-parent placing his siblings above him, he had learned that he was not loved. Just in the simple act of not getting to know him, he was enabled into believing he didn’t matter. In a room full of people he was on the outside. When he accepted the role that was forced upon him, he was blamed for it.
All those actions and more empowered Ryan to be the drug addict that he had become and ultimately went back to. We lead him there, blamed him for it, took him out of it and then sent him right back in. We did not hand him the drugs nor tell him to use them but we held him accountable for his failings and ours. It was as if we needed him to be the fallen angel. No one likes to look in the mirror because the real truth is painful but appearances won’t ever really cover it up. We can hide but they will find us eventually.
Judgement is quick and easy. There is no innocent until proven guilty because what is in front of us is more easily blamed than dealing with what is seen in the mirror. Our accountability fades into the background when we hold others responsible even though every situation or moment in life is surrounded by a circle. Each individual in that circle is responsible for their actions and reactions and how it affects the circle. Their part. Choosing not to do anything is an action. Choosing to hold others accountable for the whole circle is an action. Failing to look in the mirror is an action. Even if we behave today as we did yesterday, it does not mean we should continue to do so tomorrow, especially when the cost is one of our own.
One soul was sold again. The whole forest is falling. Drugs know we lie. Monsters are seen in the mirror. Heaven has been swallowed by hell. The real truth is everyone is an enabler. Please wake me up from this nightmare. Death becomes the fallen angel…
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