My son has been trying to detox off of opiates the last few days, his way. His way means using other drugs to make the opiate withdrawals tolerable. I was not impressed and could not bring myself to praise him, though that is what he wants. He actually has said more than once, that despite his efforts, I do not positively reinforce his efforts and that it is "never enough". Sorry to say that he is right. It is not enough. Not having opiates for a few days but taking sedatives, smoking large amounts of cannabis and having a few drinks is not good enough. Still being aggressive, sleep deprived (not sleeping or eating for days) is not good.
Something I have not mentioned before is that my son is very clever in chemistry and at times tinkers with chemical equations and has some solutions he uses to get reactions. I have never liked this or allowed this, but like with all things he keeps doing things despite my attempts to stop it.
This morning after my daughters and I had our breakfast and another night in which my son did not sleep, except for an hour or so of nodding off, he came down telling me his clothes needs to be washed because some solution (hydrochloric acid) must have spilled on them. A little while later he come down in a panic saying the same solution must have spilled on his boxer shorts and he was in a manic panic because this acid had also somehow got on his left testicle and apparently some of the skin was pealing off! I wanted to rush him to the doctor but he insisted it was under control one minute and screaming out the next that he is being punished for trying to do the right thing giving up opiates and is now seeing his ball dissolve before his very eyes! Then he would calm down as he bathed it in water and bicarb soda to neutralise it. Then suddenly be screaming out that he needs opium!
We decided to go to the urgent care but it took him over two hours to get ready, no panic, no moaning in pain, the anxiety of going had sunk in.
We went to urgent care and in the car my son was asking me how to play up on the pain side of his injury so that he will be given some strong pain meds. "So, you are ok then, you are looking to get some opiates?" I ask him. "Yes, of course", was his answer!
I tried to explain to him that besides the injury he needs to see how these chemicals are dangerous and accidents will eventually happen especially be sleep deprived for days on end as well as being on benzodiazepines! He needs to stop this and get rid of them.No, he does not see that!
So we come home and he is furious. The doctor said it was not that bad and just needs to keep calamine lotion on the skin. The focus has switched now. He will not get clean. He will go back on opiates. He will not be sober because a sober life he can not even do, he needs something. He is swearing and angry that there are no shops open now on a Sunday, no codeine to buy nothing. Eventually he calms downs because he is taking a beer to his room.
Ok this is where things get really crazy. My son charges downstairs, he has another acid burn on the inside of his wrist. It is one of us, we are trying to kill him! Attacking his 13 year old sister and saying that the c*** did it. Then he is enraged and completely paranoid and delusional. Now he turns his anger on me. He verbally attacks me. This is what I hear: "you would do whatever it takes to get rid of me, police, social services, and even killing me. You have scared me now and everyone will think I slit my wrist. You are a horrible person, much worse than me and you came into my room dosing acid on my favourite clothes and maybe switched my glass so I would drink it, and put it everywhere in my room"...it goes on. I try to ask him rationally how could I when I do not know where the chemical is, what it looks like, etc.. Also I would be too scared to touch it. Besides, when could I possibly do such a thing? "You are in your room nearly all the time, you are awake when I go to sleep and awake when I wake up the following day"....nope, I still did it.
I tell him how he is being very irrational and he needs help and tomorrow he phones about rehab or he is out. I am no longer subjecting the rest of the family to this in my vain attempt to "support" him. I am then greeted with the middle finger and I am told to "f***" myself.....hmm what is in store for me tonight!
Interesting that no matter what happens the light is not being switched on for him. How bad will things have to get? What pain will he endure? How low will he succumb? How much damage will be made? Emotional, psychological, relationships, mental, developmental, physical damage!
My daughter came to me and said, "Mummy, do you remember about a month ago? You said you would do it. You said that you were serious. You said a couple of weeks ago again that if he doesn't go to rehab you will make him leave. He is still here"....these words made me feel very small, very inadequate and now I must do what before I did not think was the right thing to do...use "tough love" as they call it. I will have to say good bye to my son, my pain, my sadness. Say good bye to the moral dilemmas, the cognitive dissonance, the dysfunction. Say good bye to the drug obsessed secluded leech who has drained me of my energy, my money, my time and at times even my hope. I have said good bye long ago to my loving, kind, gentle son who is no longer here. My tears are welling up, my heart is pounding. My mind is spinning.
Tomorrow is another day...but what does it bring, no one knows.