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Saturday, 27 July 2013

Crushed Dreams

My son has stolen from me large amounts of money over the years, promising that one day he will pay me back. Having said this when my son buys himself things it upsets me that he continues to be irresponsible and disrespectful towards me by never giving me any money towards "repayment".



So when he announced a few months ago how he bought a concert ticket for £80 I was not impressed, to say the least. When I questioned him about this and he said it is an amazing opportunity to see a band (Atoms of Peace) because its members of a few huge rock bands playing together in a small venue and he doesn't know when, if ever, he can see them again. I tried to explain that one of the things about being an adult is realising there are things that we would very much like to do, however, if we can not afford it or if it is not the "right thing" to do at the time, then we have to sacrifice our desires and hope that another opportunity will come our way in the future.

Well, of course the ticket has been bought, and like most concert tickets it is non refundable. When the night of the concert starts approaching and my son starts to ask me money for train costs into London because he has no money, I do not sympathise at all and continue to firmly say, "No".

The day of the concert has finally arrived. Friday night! Months of my son waiting eagerly to see this "amazing" band is finally here. I start to think that he has bought the ticket, instead of paying me back. I think we have been eating beans this weak because I am broke. I think it has been so long since he has been anywhere. I think a night without conflict would be a welcome change. I think, eh what the heck, I will give him £10 towards the train ticket, no more to squander on drinking though.



My son is up in the morning and says how he plans to get ready and do a few things on the computer and delete photos on his camera so he can take some pics and wants to leave at about 2-3 pm so that he can stand in line and be guaranteed a good spot. OK, great.

I take my youngest daughter to the park to meet friends for a picnic and told my son I may not be home before he leaves. We stay out longer because my daughter and the rest of the children have been invited back to one of the houses to splash about in the paddling pool. It is nearly 4 pm and I have not heard anything from my son, but that is ok. I decide to call home though and see how he and my older daughter are.

Well by the time I got home at nearly 5 pm, my son was just getting into the shower. Hours passed with him saying he feels nervous and nauseous. He drank his opium tea. He took some benzos. He smoked some weed. It wasn't helping. He told me he was scared. I tell him it's understandable since he has not been out for so long, but it will be ok once he gets there. He finally said at one point he is getting his shoes on and packing his backpack, this was nearly 7 pm and that is when the concert venue was opening its doors. Travel time from where we live would be just a little more than an hour. He says, its ok, they have an opening band and he doesn't care if he misses it. He has some more opium tea, whether he had more pills , I do not know. I go up to his room to see what is going on, again, he is struggling with putting his photos onto his computer, it is not recognising the device....he is getting very anxious and worried. I tell him not to take his camera, he will always have the memories of being there.




It is now time to put my youngest to bed...I fall into snoozing mode while doing so. When I finally come out of the bedroom I am shocked at how late it is and that my son is still not ready to go. He says he was feeling so anxious so he self medicated but it didn't work. The later it gets the worse he feels about himself but he is insistent that he will still go, even if he only catches the last song. Finally, it is 10:30, it will be 11:30 at the earliest when he gets there, so I have to tell him that he can not go any more, it is too late. He talked about what a loser he is, what a waste, and that everytime he really wants something he never gets it and how nothings ever works out for him etc. He started to cry. He was sitting in the living room, crying. I felt so incredibly sad for him, yet because of the nature of our relationship these last few months, I felt paralysed. I listened and I reassured him that there will be another time. Inside I was feeling sad and worried and I thought that this incident highlights to me my son's emotional and psychological problems. This entire evening is not "normal". I thought, how am I going to ask him to leave if he refuses to go into rehab?

He calmed down and fell asleep on the sofa after watching a bit of tv.

Next day he asked me, "what can I do to feel better about last night?"

I did not have an answer.

At one point, no actually more than once, I have tried to highlight to my son that this shows how serious his problems are and that is why the intense therapy in rehab while coming off the drugs would be so important to him. This of course upsets him. He talked about how he would have been able to go to the concert if he was on methadone. He talked about how the drug clinic deliberately kicked him out to make him suffer. He talked about how he has too many worries about how to stay on his other drugs now, cost and effort etc. He talked about how none of "them" care about him. He talked about how every care professional is only interested in filling out the paperwork but doesn't give a damn about him. He talked about how the doctor did not like him and wanted to punish him. He talked about how non of this "helping" ever helps, it only makes it worse and I am the one who wanted all this "help" and he always said it would just make things get worse.



I just don't know what to do. All the while I am being faced with our home being repossessed because my ex husband does not care to help and is putting all the pressure and responsibility on me. My ex is trying to use his intimidation and control, just as always, into making me feel it is my fault. Well, when I explain to his father how consumed I have been with our son's problems, and indeed all our children's problems, how time consuming all the appointments and meetings are, and that I am trying like mad not to make our son homeless....his answer, without any expression is that we will all be homeless. Is it any wonder that our son has so many issues that have been there since childhood, festering inside and getting more convoluted? Is it any wonder our son turned to drugs?  I am not placing blame here, I am recognising a key factor that played a part in our sons disease, just as much as I have recognised how, for a while, I enabled that disease to grow.



My son was crying because he missed a gig he was looking forward  to for months to see. He felt sad. A dream crushed. So many dreams have been crushed in my son's life. Friendships, Education. Family. A future. Maybe one of the biggest dreams however,  that have been crushed, is the dream of a loving caring involved father to teach, to play with, to grow up with....to love.