On our drive home from the family weekend at the rehab, we had made a stop in a town just across the state line. We had all gotten out to stretch our legs while taking in the scenery. Ryan had walked a short distance away to sit at a table. Within minutes, he was approached by a young man who was looking for drugs. Not directions or money to buy food but simply hellish drugs. I was stunned but I also had the mindset that we just needed to drive off into the sunset. It was the final scene from a very difficult and traumatic period for all of us. Like the end of a movie, we the characters would live happily ever after…even though we would behave today as we did yesterday and as we would tomorrow all the while expecting a different outcome. We had left hell and its messengers behind because drugs had been the problem not us. Bye-bye drugs and your tricky ways.
After our return home, I had slipped back into being what I was comfortable with even though I should not have. I was complacent because I assumed that we and time had created a void that drugs could not infiltrate. That heightened state of agitation was gone and I was relieved. I was still believing that it all came down to a simple choice of choosing not to do drugs. The green truth, however, was that we had returned with the addict child and the poster child was all but dead. He had changed while we were sleeping and we had not changed even though we were now awake. The mirror still tells the truth and I hate it.
My ex-husband had come down to pick up Ryan a week after he had returned from “camp”. He was supposed to take him away for a week of surfing. I was under the impression that my ex was sober because that was what he had told me. That was also what his wife had implied to me. I had expressed, through pleading and threatening, the seriousness of the situation as well as my need for his help. I had expected that my ex would put Ryan above everything else, especially drugs, even though he had never before given me a reason to believe he would be able to this time. Words meant nothing in comparison to actions but I had hoped that he would follow through. If it had been that simple he would have changed long ago. If it had been that simple the poster child would have never entered hell to begin with nor returned there.
When my ex had first arrived, I could tell that something was off about him. He had gone into our guest bathroom and had refused to come out. I was sure he was doing drugs in there. I was completely angry and scared. Complicating an already twisted situation was the fact that my youngest had friends over and of course Ryan was in the house too. How was I going to get all of them away to safety while extricating my ex from the bathroom? Of course I turned to Ashlee. She understood that we had to get Ryan away from their father and from the drugs he had. True to who she was and is, Ashlee stepped up and took over dealing with her father. My husband left with our youngest and her friends. I left with Ryan and took him to meet a sober friend for coffee. Ashlee stayed and called the law enforcement. Why had I chosen to leave with Ryan instead of sending Ashlee away with him?
My ex had been stuffing various items into the toilet in the guest bathroom. I actually had no idea if he had used drugs in there but he was acting delusional. When the officers arrived, they attempted to get him to come out but it was apparent that he was not going to on his own accord. They had to kick in the door and during the struggle that followed, the toilet was also broken. Left scattered on the floor were various pages from magazines, ties, shirts, towels and the remnants of the door and the toilet. Because no drugs were found on or near my ex, the officers made the choice to send him to a psych ward for his safety and ours. There were a few times in the past when their dad had been great but that wasn’t one of them.
I had mistakenly believed that everything would be okay. I had also failed to realize that Ashlee had been left in that deeply disturbing experience to fend for herself. Once again I was so focused on saving Ryan that I had failed to see the damage that had been done to her. Especially my direct role in that. My ex’s behavior had made it easy for me to blame him for all of it through out the years. If he had done the right things then I would not have had to make any of those choices. He may have created that trauma but it was I who left Ashlee behind in the trenches. I had always believed that Ashlee knew she had me and that together we had to cover for the failings of others against Ryan. My actions had certainly not proved that even if I had used those words with her. In the end, Ryan did not escape the trauma either because the knowledge of it stayed firmly implanted in his memory as it did in Ashlee’s. If all of us had done the right thing, the behavior of even just one would have never had the impact that it did.
Angels do fall. The poster child is dead. Nightmares are the reality. A tree can bring down a whole forest. We are behaving today as we did yesterday and as we will tomorrow all the while expecting a different outcome. Drugs don’t listen because they are not the problem. Do as I say not as I do. For our continued sins. Mirror-mirror just shut up…
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