Good Times

This past year has been a bitch and there's no end in sight. Today's torture: should I send my older son to rehab? If a friend of mine told me that their kid did all of the things that my kid has done, I wouldn't hesitate to say that their kid needs help, yet I remain conflicted on how best to help my son.

In the beginning, I thought his drug use was typical teenage nonsense, maybe a little more hardcore than some, but still fairly benign, you know, "I did the same thing when I was your age" kinda stuff. But like a lot of the shit things that have happened in my life, I chose to look away, hoped for the best and quietly lived in terror. Good times.

I'm not sure what I'm waiting for to finally push me over the edge. One more fuck up? A sign from above? I couldn't tell you. Everything I need to know is in plain sight. I've snooped around his room from time to time and have found pot, pills, empty cans of Reddi-wip, discarded cough medicine bottles and all kinds of other drug paraphernalia. My wife's Xanax went missing last month and there are no more dollar bills in my loose change jar. And this is on top of assorted school and legal problems.

When I look at my older son, I tend to see the best in him, which I like to believe I had a little something to do with. I don't look at his explosive anger or crude manipulations or outright lies. All I see is my little boy who has always had my heart, no matter how many times he breaks it. Whatever trouble he gets in, whatever drugs he takes, whatever fucked up, angry things he says to me and my wife, he will always be my little boy, and that's why I've been walking around feeling all torn up inside, confused, depressed, and most of all, uncertain. Because whatever I decide to do, I have no idea if it will be the right thing and won't know for years to come. I am certain, though, that I have to do something and have to do it now.

A few weeks after we adopted my older son, we threw a big party for our new baby boy and all of my friends and family came to our apartment to help us celebrate his arrival and it was one of the happiest days of my life. Now almost 18 years later, a few of those same friends are still in my life and have been helping me with this agonizing decision and I'm so thankful for that, you have no idea.