Unbeknownst to me, my son had altered his state of being. That snake had whispered to my child that he could make his pain go away with a bite of the apple. When you are in pain, one bite can never be enough and the snake knows this. As the poison set in, a monster slowly began to replace my son. He looked like my son. He talked like my son but HE WASN’T MY SON. Because of that, I changed tactics and took on the monster by having him forcefully taken away. How determined did I have to be to fight this afflicted creature who had possession of my son’s soul?
It never occurred to me that Ryan would suffer serious symptoms as he began to withdraw on the road to rehab. My knowledge of drugs was limited but my concern was his use not his stopping. His level of consumption, however, was so high that the effects of not using could have killed him just as easily as continuing to use drugs could have. After all that is why I had him taken away without permission from the Juvenile Court. His drug use was going to kill him. The manifestations of withdrawal plus the stress of being taken away pushed all his rage to the front. Fortunately the three men who seized him remained courteous and respectful for the many hours that they drove him to his new home. They made a very bad situation a much better one. I will always be eternally grateful for those hired angels who had swooped in and carried off the monster. They were the first real step in saving Ryan.
The rehab was not prepared for the frightening creature that arrived handcuffed and shackled. It’s not that I didn’t want them to know that I was sending a monster and expecting a child in return. It was that I did not understand what or who Ryan had become. I merely thought that sending him away would put an end to it. Was I naive in my thinking? He was about 8 weeks away from turning 18 years old and legally he had no choice. I had chosen to remove him from the influences of the snake and its poisonous apples while I still had the power to do so.
The rehab called me. Ryan had arrived and they were concerned that his heart rate was way up. Of course it was. He was withdrawing, had been taken away and was in a place that was not familiar with people he didn’t know. They implied to me they were worried that he could have a heart attack while hiking in the wilderness. Normally a statement like that would have disturbed me but it did not. I told them that “I would rather Ryan have a heart attack in the great outdoors then die on the streets from a drug overdose. I promised I would not sue them if anything like that happened.” I was completely serious.
He was transported out to forest land where he was going to learn to cope with his addiction while hiking and camping. He would be fed, clothed for the weather and provided a tarp and sleeping bag. He would participate in discussions around the camp fire with other addicts as well as their team leaders. He would receive personal counseling from a psychiatrist.
Ryan loved the outdoors so in theory it seemed to be the perfect solution; hike until either he drops or the monster does. He however was aggressive upon his arrival to the wilderness and didn’t see the value of being in the fresh air. He decided he would hike to a road and then hitchhike home or call for a ride. The team leaders followed him to ensure he stayed safe and only would have stepped in if he had made it to a road or had been in danger. Eventually Ryan had to comply because he had no idea where a road was or even which direction was north.
On more than one occasion in the beginning, the rehab reported concerns about the monster they were working with. Some of the team members were somewhat afraid of him. They were probably right to feel that way based upon the behavior he displayed frequently. Often an addict implies to other addicts that he has used more drugs than anyone else. In Ryan’s case it probably was true. He was the biggest and toughest monster. It was like a badge of courage but the truth is it showed the serious level of desperation and pain. Ryan was a first for this rehab, but true to their commitment, they brought their best under very challenging circumstances.
While Ryan was “away at camp”, as I lovingly refer to it now, I was able to breathe. I had not been able to do so in months. I was not worried. I was not scared. I was feeling great. Of course it was easy to do that because someone else was responsible on a daily basis for what he was achieving or failing to achieve. Its not that I didn’t think about him. I thought about him every day but without the anxiety that normally plagued me. I participated in weekly phone updates with his case manager when he would come in from the field. I wrote letters in anger, frustration and support. For me it seemed like the end of a movie where the character goes off into the sunset and while you don’t know what happens after that scene, it seems happy or easy or just peaceful. I looked forward to picking up my child from camp knowing that the monster would be left in the woods.
I still had to contend with the Juvenile Court. Ryan had a drug possession charge against him. A felony to be specific. Unbeknownst to the them, Ryan had been whisked away to another state and he would not be attending the court date. His lawyers had no idea what the judge or prosecutor would say about my actions nor if there would be any repercussions that I would face. Just as Ryan had been a first for the rehab, I was probably a first for the courts. I was sure that they would realize that my child was a poster child not for drugs but for the All American Kid. He just needed some fresh air, hiking and camping and he would come back good as new.
When the judge came into the room, we all stood. He asked where Ryan was. One of his lawyers began to explain why he wasn’t there. Slowly the look on his face went from serious to shock to…
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