The Hope in Starting Over

"For what it's worth; it's never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of...and if you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again."

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

Life is full of moments.
And it is somewhere within these moments that we begin to define ourselves.

When my son was 17 and struggling with sobriety I made some life altering decisions. I ended my marriage, left my career and began searching for something to be passionate about. 
Like Alice must have felt when she landed in Wonderland. I had no idea where I was, who I was or where the hell I was going.
This is when it hit me. I was completely alone.
Max was fighting for freedom and I was...tired.
Any family that has been immersed into the disease of addiction knows that eventually the disease plays out.
You have no control. 

I was 37 when I realized that I had no control over the way my son would choose to live his life. 

I had raised him right. 

He knew the difference between good and evil and I had given him the tools he needed to battle his disease. 

In finding myself I knew that I would have to begin to let him go. 

In order to find my way, he was going to have to find his. 

This realization didn’t come easy. Even now, years later, I have to find solace in the fact that I never let go of my son, I simply had to step aside and allow him to become a man. 

Since I became a mom at 19 years old I didn’t even remember much about my life before my son was born. Stepping aside, allowing him to create his own life path, meant that I had to seek out a completely different identity for myself. Still a mother, I tried desperately to separate myself from Max's disease. Those efforts, however futile, began to define the person I am today...in those moments perhaps, is when I built the strength to survive the eventual death of my son.

I am one of the few people that I have met that say they don't feel guilty that their child died from the disease of addiction. I know, with every ounce of my being, that I gave every bit of my soul into getting Max sober. As any parent would, I put much more energy into his life then I did my own. 

When Max was sober he would fill a room with his laughter and over abundance of charm....

But when drug Max took over he would suck the life out of a room so quickly you were left breathless and bewildered. 

His energy was stronger than anyone I have ever known. He was like a tornado, exploding into a room and consuming all those around him.

Some times this was good.

Other times this was extremely bad.

This is why, shortly after his death, I had a friend say something to me that I wasn't offended or upset by in any way.

In fact, I was somewhat inspired.

She said, "Maybe Max had to die so that you could begin to live..."

I consider this to be the most defining moment in my life thus far.

Addiction is a family disease and it had consumed my family for so long that there simply had been no way to live a life separate of it.

Sure, I had tried...I knew in my head that I had to let go and let Max find his way...but my heart? 

Well, your heart never let's go does it? 

When your loved one is lost in this disease there is simply no other life for you to live but the life they bring you, the tornado they capture you in.

My life is forever changed because of addiction.

I have lost the only thing that I ever truly loved. 

My son.

But...in an effort to "begin to live" as my friend suggested, I have met amazing people. 

I have found calm in the presence of other bereaved parents. 

I have found strength in the unity of all of us that grieve for what we have lost. 

I have found the courage to sit and write about the stigma of addiction.

I have found inspiration through the recovery of addicts that fight their demons every minute of every day. 

Finally, I am learning to find myself...

I realize that seeking a new path, reinventing myself, isn’t something that I alone have set out to do. 

It is because of this that I have decided to share my moments. 

You see, I am just like you, grieving for what should have been, scared about what comes next and lost and alone in the places that were once so familiar.

For what it's worth, the only difference between you and I is probably the fact that I am crazy enough to write about it...