So, I’m of course missing our little chats. Running a blog is a little like sponsoring a coffee house conversation: I get to pick up topics that interest me, throw them over the transom and see who bites, how many times. There is an element of ego involved too: We count comment threads for a reason, and most of us are interested in our daily hit counts. For a few thousand looks a day these our efforts seem to make a kind of sense to a world where time is money. If it were five or a few dozen, we would judge our efforts here a failure and move on to other endeavors.
Because it does take time, and time spent here quite obviously is time unspent elsewhere. Not exercising, not working, not reading thoughtfully. Not being a father.
There are a few things I did not miss during my “time off” from this. I didn’t miss waking each morning with a sense of obligation to mainly strangers. I didn’t miss waking up to 40 or 50 emails – more, on a “good” night – that notified me of comments made after I’d pulled the plug, each of which I would have to sort through. Because someone spent the time to write them and they deserved to be read. After all, some would educate me, while others might make me smile. And comments are rather the whole point of the thing. Except where they are not.
But I cannot just come back and start uploading three to five posts a day – on average three before work, one during lunch, one after coming home: content matters – as though nothing happened. I feel I owe you an explanation. But these are private matters, indeed, these things concern the privacy of others and I could not speak about merely under my own will. Unasked, I have been given permission.
I have been in many ways blessed. I’ve had a great career in the world’s finest Navy, had the opportunity to serve for, with and above some true heroes and had at my side a world-class partner every step of the way. She supported me in all my aspirations while delivering unto us three beautiful, intelligent children whom I love with my whole heart. One of whom happens to be a heroin addict.
Nothing in life is inevitable, except in the harsh and uncompromising light of retrospect. So I have spent many a weary and heartsick hour wondering at which critical turn in the path could I have helped to steer a more favorable and healthy course. We did as our parents did, there was church on Sunday and Sunday school, there were sports and activities. We spoke openly about the existence in the world of good and evil, and about the importance of making choices. What did I say, or fail to say? What did I do, or fail to do? Was it one of those deployments that ran into months, or the accumulation of them that ran into years, years that I spent in the uttermost parts of the world when I was needed closer to home?
It’s a vain and futile exercise of course. Certainly there were warning signs along the road, at first ambiguous, later much less so. But while little children are visual joys, they tend to be uninteresting conversationalists. And when they finally get old enough to have something interesting to say, they tend not to spend their pearls before their parents. We intervened when we could, there were rebellions and restrictions. Attempts at conversation.
But the very first thing an addict learns to do is lie. They lie to themselves that they can “try it just once.” Then they lie to themselves that “it’ll be OK, I can quit when I want.” Then they lie to themselves that “it doesn’t really matter” that they wake up in the morning dope sick and have to get high just to feel normal. Having woven for themselves this opaque web of deceptions, all the other little lies – the ones they tell to others – come easier. And the retrospective does have its purpose: A point in space has no vector, you have to know where you’re coming from to know where you’re going to. To see if things are looking better, or worse.
So when it came to light in January 2010 that our daughter had a problem, and a real one, we sent her to a rehabilitation facility. Detox first, then outpatient care. Drug tests once a week. She came out clean, and – she said – committed to the twelve steps. Boyfriends were changed, and harsh restrictions were imposed and then gradually eased as rewards for good behavior. She graduated high school healthy and clean, and was awarded a partial scholarship to Portland State University for academic performance. With some misgivings we sent her there to freshman year, because it had always been her dream and kids only have so many dreams that parents can actually make come true. Only to find, having flown her home late last spring, that we had spent nearly $30k to bring home a full-fledged addict, with all the paraphernalia: Cookers and rubber bands, cotton balls or q-tips, needles and track marks on her arms.
And this was not something I was reading about in a book, not some television special: This was and is my beloved, beautiful daughter.
There’s a good inpatient clinic not far from here, and we took her to get registered. The new boyfriend’s parents had beaten us to the punch, and it was thought that having them together in their rehabilitation was unwise. By the time a new window opened up, she refused to register. She was then 19, and the law was on her side. Too late to register for courses locally, we paddled about in circles over the fall term. She finally got back to school in January of this year, and got a little job on the side as well. But many of the same people she had run with before were there at the community college as well, and she fell back in to bad habits. The day after her 20th birth day she surprised us by telling us that she needed to go into detox and residential care, that she couldn’t do it on her own. Two weeks after having started, I had to pick her up, sobbing on the curb. She had had a panic attack, she said, and had taken some illegitimate thing proffered by another patient. He was kicked out, and she followed. There was nothing we could do, no one to talk to, all decisions were final.
Love may be infinite, but patience is not. The car keys were taken, the cell phone too. There’s food in the house if you’re hungry. Last week we found more paraphernalia, and had us quite a little scene. Her begging us to let her get high just one last time, what did it matter? Me flushing the lot down the garbage disposal, having to beat her hand out of it prior to activating the switch. Let’s sleep on this before making any decisions, I said, at two o’clock in the morning. The next day she left, we didn’t know where nor with whom.
Her new boyfriend – that’s three, for those keeping score at home, and this one the first really decent one of the lot – found her and picked her up the next day. She’s been at home since, and we’re all just sort of dancing around the elephant in the room. She’s got some ideas she’d like to try, a change of venue. She’ll have to pass a drug test first. Distant friends have recommended a treatment center in Florida that has a great reputation. She’s considering it.
Recovering addicts have this thing they call, “rock bottom.” The concept is different for each person, but rock bottom is the moment that they realize they can go no further on the path they’ve been on without ending up dead or in prison. Rock bottom is where you have to go before you can start to climb back up again. They may not know or care that, being loved, they don’t hit rock bottom alone, that they bring everyone else with them, at least as spectators. And for those on the sidelines, the hardest part is not knowing, never knowing, if we’ve gotten there: Whether dawn is coming, or whether it will get darker yet.
When she was little she had a laugh that burbled like a mountain brook, and which was so infectious that everyone joined in with her, perhaps not even knowing at first why they were laughing. With that laugh she could change the mood of a room, the light on peoples’ faces altered and everyone seemed happier with everyone else, deeply pleased in each other’s company. We don’t get to hear that laugh much any more. Perhaps that pearl too is spent elsewhere.
I hope so.
I wish I could say more than just I’m sorry. You are a good Father. A good husband. And a Man to be admired greatly.
All I can say is good luck, and never give up on them. The little girl you love is still in there. And she always will be……
God will never give you more than you can handle.
Subsunk
Lex, to you and your family
Through the gift of God’s grace,
May He bring light to the darkness in your hearts,
May He bring strength to bear the turmoil borne against thee,
May He bestow the power of love to overshadow the trials that beset thee,
And may He bring you to the path that will guide your steps to peace.
Irish
You are in my prayers. Try “Teen Challenge,” it worked a literal miracle for my brother who shared that particular demon.
http://teenchallengeusa.com/
I vote for “Teen Challenge” as I have seen some real miracles come out of that ministry.
If you look up “Teen” in the dictionary it is –noun
1.
Archaic . suffering; grief.
2.
Obsolete . injury; harm.
Unfortunately it applies
Been reading you for a couple of years. Never said a thing. It’s time, but I’ll I can come up with is God Bless and hang tough. Love of children is #1.
VA94/AT/68-70
I am absolutely heart broken for you and your family. On the broadest of shoulders does God put his heaviest burdens, to be lightened and rewarded when you meet Him in his House. I pray for you and your family every day. The tears I cry are “but for the Grace of God, there go I” as I could be in the same place you are now. Stay strong, stay vigilant as the peace that passes all understanding will one day be yours. We All Love You Lex as well as your family!!!
Lex, amazing what we think we cannot bear, until we have to. I pray that you will continue to exercise faith, and draw upon the strength which is His.
I lost my brother many years ago to this particular demon, and struggled with it for a long time. As a parent, I know I would give or do anything to make something like this go away. The hard reality is that we can’t love it out of them, beat it out of them, scare it out of them, or fix it for them. Other than remaining loving and strong, patient and forgiving, until such time as they can “get it”, all we can do is guide them to the water, whether by heart, by hand or by ear; ultimately though, the thirst must be theirs.
“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you: not as the world gives, give I to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”
Don´t know what to say. Life sometimes is not fair, but for all I learned following your stories, she could not ask for better parents to help in such situation.
Do your best, as you always do. Don´t give up, believe in yourself, your wife and even your girl, because she has your genes, and we all know you´re a fighter. She´ll become one, too.
Our prayers are with you and your family. Hang tough my friend!
I don’t know how to begin this much less end. This makes my minor trials and tribulations seem so insignificant. I gather from the fact that Lex has shared this with us that DNO not only approved of this but shared in the exact wording. All I can say is that if she has the intestinal fortitude to have this bared to all, she also has the guts to beat this problem. I sincerely hope that she knows that she not only has the support of her immediate family, but also that of her extended “Lex” family. Let her know that we love her. XAB
Very true point. Many here have spoken directly to you, Lex, but in this DNO has the lead, with you and the family wing and trail.
As an Officer, as a Navy Wife, as caring parents, you’re both driven to be leaders and problem solvers but now can’t successfully act on that drive. Only support. It’s got to be the hardest position ever to be in.
God’s mercy on your beautiful daughter and her most magnificent parents. You owe us nothing by way of explanation except to say it is a private matter. The writings you post here regularly to keep our heads fed are in some ways a look into your mind and (like the above) soul, for which I am honored to be an avid reader and occasional commenter.
It would be tempting to tell you something trite such as things being darkest before the dawn, but such is not always true and there are no guarantees of the dawn until the light appears in the eastern sky.
One hopes and prays that a father’s love can make the difference. We all do.
That way lies heartbreak. But a father will always try–it’s in the nature of the beast. It’s particularly difficult where one or two children shine–and another falters or stumbles. But there’s nothing that you can do except soldier on and do the best you can. There are 170 plus comments here encouraging you to do that, understanding in some small way what your struggle–and your daughter’s struggle is. May God bless and save you all–you, your wife, and your daughter.
Lex, I know that my thoughts and feelings echo many of those above, but for the record, I know your pain. I have a son who has gone the route from MJ to meth and who knows what else. It started at age 12; he’s now 39. I am now awaiting his parole after 9 years (50% sentence) of hard time for ag. robbery (to support his habit). I don’t know what to tell you except to pray, with the support of many. You don’t have to go through this alone. And don’t enable.
She may grow up soon (or later) and you will want to pick up the pieces. Don’t burn the bridges you haven’t yet crossed.
My prayers for you and yours!
Mike
Lex — thanks for sharing your story. With two young daughters, I read it carefully. Listen to the audio of this essay, “This I Believe:” http://thisibelieve.org/essay/6165/
Stay strong,
Elwood
Our thoughts and prayers with you and your family.
I have 4 sons, and have had struggles with them. Times that seemed difficult and dark, but nothing approaching this.
There are no words to reach across an electronic divide, I type electrons on a screen, you read them where you sit. Still, we have shared words and stories, and now I sit here, moved to tears by what I have read.
I pray she finds her way. I pray you find solace for your own pain. I pray you always remember that laugh and who she truly is.
Semper Fidelis,
ASM826
There are some great places that educate the addicts and drunks about their problem, the key here is for the one addicted to want it bad enough. Having been through addiction treatment myself over 10 times
from the best money could buy to the state run programs I can honestly tell you that the only way any of us get help is when we help ourselves. Hitting rock bottom is a great thing for us, since then we can start to climb out of the hole we have placed ourselves in. Sorry that I can’t be more positive about it, but the only person that can help your Daughter is Her. I know I broke my parents hearts till I was 35. I am one of the lucky ones who has gotten sober and so far (7 years) have stayed that way. Tough love is what my Family ended up giving to me, and at the time I hated them for it, but it was the right thing to do.
God Bless and your family will stay in my prayers.
Skipper – I hope for your family only the best. My heart aches.
Cap’n, may God Almighty hold you and your family in the palm of His hand. Prayers are offered.
Sir,
It is both an honor to read your blog and an honor to pray for your family. May God bless you in this challenging time. . .
So many beautiful posts here, hope the support keeps coming. Concur that this puts my own tiny problems in perspective. For all that I criticize, pettily, about what’s going on in our culture this reminds me of one of the things that is still great about this country and of the all too human, very fallible, and yet so incredible people that comprise it. Namely, that the virtue of Redemption is more strongly believed in, more freely and truthfully granted on merit alone, and more honored in those who achieve it here than anywhere else. Here’s to your daughter sir, my family’s prayers are still with your family this night.
Dang, Sir! Just Dang! I was only able to read as far as maybe yer third paragraph, there, when I went straight to prayer, and then to this here comment function. I am hesitant to read more of that kind of TMI, because it feels like peeking under someone else’s bandages. (I don’t mind peeking under mine, (hey, I’ll taste the pus!) it just ain’t prudent to share that kind of stuff with the public, lest it be used against one.)
I thank the Lord that my two bad-habit substances, nicotine gum and ethyl hydroxide in weak beer solution, can be bought legally and at reaonable prices at the Publix.
If it’s any consolation, Sir, I do believe that one dices with the Deity when reproducing. There is no telling how the kids will turn out.
I know I was quite a disappointment to my own parents, and no, I won’t compare degrees of that.
You are ahead of me, Sir, in that you got to reproduce and I did not.
You have three offspring, one of whom is damaged, but possibly reparable. I have none. You have the joy of having offspring, and the pain of one of them going off the rails. I have neither. Please console yerself with my sentiment that you are still ‘way ahead of me.
God Bless you and your family Lex and prayers go out for your Daughter.
Going through a tough stretch with my oldest so your post hit particularly close to home.
It must feel really suckful to get off of the Admiral career track, so as to look after yer family, and then have a Family Fail, anyway.
Dang, Sir, just Dang!
Cap’n, my prayers are with you and and yours.
Prayers to you and your family Lex. You have experienced one of my worst fears as a parent. I hope she has seen the light and seeks help and treatment, for good.
My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family, Lex.
A shipmate pushed me your blog post, and it was like reading my own story…I have walked in the same shoes for the last 9 years.
Everyone gives you ideas and advice, and you’ve tried it all already, probably, so I won’t give you any more. I will only say: It really is not yours or your wife’s fault. REALLY. It took my bride and I 5 years to figure that out for ourselves, and the moment we discovered that – it became instantly clear that we also could not fix it.
I know I’m a stranger, but I’m here for you shipmate.
Keep Praying
Linked to you from another blog site. Please know that your family is in our family’s thoughts and prayers, and we’re sending great big hugs to all of you from Texas (so you KNOW they’re big ones!).
As someone said upthread, you raise them the best way you know how, and then you have to trust. That’s the scariest part – especially when things don’t go the way that you planned. It’s obvious that your daughter knows that she is loved, and that is the most important thing. Heroin is a tough one to break, and a lot of heartache is encountered with it.
I don’t have any answers for you, but I will say PLEASE don’t beat yourself up over this. It isn’t a failing of your job as a parent – it’s obvious you and your wife love your children very much. I’m sure you’ve come across many families in the same situation as yours – they are a great resource for you, I’m sure, and one day in the future, you will be able to be a great resource for a family that is just starting on their painful journey.
It may not help, but one of my favorite Bible verses is Jeremiah 39:11 – “For I know the plans I have for you, sayeth the Lord; Plans to prosper you and not to harm you; Plans to give you a hope and a future.”
Please know that your family is held not only in God’s hands, but also in the keeping of all of those “anonymous” folks in their pajamas who consider you a part of their family. You and your family are loved, and everyone is here for all of you.
God Bless…..
PLEASE
do not
“fight”
“hang tough”
PLEASE
surrender, that’s right,
surrender.
PLEASE GO TO AL-ANON.
TODAY.
And keep going. And Going. AND GOING.
Our family is praying for you, and your wife,
and your entire family.
May God (continue to) Bless you.
Jesus loves you so much. And He loves
your daughter.
Remember, ‘God has no grandchildren’, she
is His little girl, too.
I am not going to offer advice, but I will pray for you and your family.
Peace be with you and your family.
Lex, please don’t give up. Don’t ever give up. My prayers during this Lenten season of redemption are for you and your family. JCHjr
nothing to add except my prayers….
My heart goes out to your daughter. She and all y’all are in my prayers.
Just recognize that this is a very difficult thing, and fortunately you already have a very long track record at succeeding at very difficult things. Perspective.
You already know in a general and abstract way what will be required to bring about the optimum possible outcomes in this situation and need only to transform that general and abstract understanding into specific and concrete courses of action.
All the best-
Sir,
I was afraid it was Kat when she didn’t return to PSU this year – but I’d figured that it was something like pot, which is practically legal up here. Heroin… that is severely nasty.
Would be that you could give her supplier(s) introductory flying lessons, sans aircraft.
While a change of scenery might be a good thing, I can’t see where losing the closeness of her family would be. It’s doubtful that anyone knows her as well as you (her family) do, and that would be a pretty major crutch to give up in order to attempt detox elsewhere.
Praying for you and yours.
I am very sorry to hear of your troubles. Please know that with most addicts there is very little that the parents could have done differently. People have been hooked on opiates for hundreds of years. One chance encounter with the wrong person could have started this and no amount of parenting could have prevented it.
On the rehabilitation side, have you checked into Suboxone treatment? Suboxone is a pill that eliminates the withdrawals as you detox. It also has something in it that will make you sick if you do take any opiates.
God bless you and your family and I wish you and your daughter the best of luck.
It’s been a few days since I checked to see what new ideas, castigations or flying stories you had. Your story of you and your daughter slammed my heart like I ran into a wall.
This is one those things in life you are not responsible for and you can’t fix. That’s the hardest part. Aviators want to fix what isn’t working to be able to get into the air–to get their loved ones back soaring.
Love your wife, love yourself, love your children. In my own life I have too often had to say, “I am not in charge of this.” and I have looked to the Big Guy to give me strength.
May you find a way though this with all your loved ones. Thinking of you.
My thoughts and prayers for you and the entire family.
“One of the closest bonds a father can have with his daughter comes through comforting”
– David Jeremiah
Hard to know or believe at this time but DNO still needs her dad.
God bless you and your family, sir.
Reflecting on the nature of various drugs: Pot is, of course, the easiest drug to quit using, and nicotine is the hardest. I think the others are somewhat in between in ease of quitting, not mentioning withdrawal symptoms.
Now withdrawal can be nasty. I mind a woman I knew slightly who decided to flush all of her Valiums down the toilet and told her doc. He said, hie thee to the ER immediately. She spent a while strapped to a table with intraveinous muscle relaxant dripping into her. She said she had some magnificent hallucinations while doing that.
Sigmund Freud quit his cocaine habit but never could stop with the cigars.
M’self? I am one of those people who can’t eat just half of a candy bar, and remember how _good_ that morphine felt when I was in the hospital with the collapsed lung.
Curiously, when I’ve had teeth extracted, I took two or three of the Lortabs, and saved the rest for emergencies such as, say, having to walk on a sprained ankle.
What I reckon I’m trying to say, is that I am somewhat frightened of ingesting things which make me feel good immediately, knowing how my mind works.
If only you could have gotten the gal high on flyin! It may well be even more expensive and hazardous, but I do believe it to be a higher order of dangerous fun.
P.s. Imagine saying, ” Oh, that’s my kid up there in the Pitts, doing the eight-point rolls, the outside loops, the Immelmanns finished with a snap on top!”
As I wrote above, there is absolutely no tellin’ how one’s kid will turn out. I have read a book written by one of Charles Lindbergh’s daughters and my general response to it was that I just wanted to slap her. She had her Dad, Charles Effing Lindbergh, Himself, take her flying several times and had not the slightest desire to learn to do that herself.
Dear Lex,
God bless you and your family, especially your daughter. I pray for God’s mercy and the power of the resurrection to be at work in her heart and life. God grant that all the gifts you have given us your readers and the sacrifice of your time and attention be returned to you as answered prayers for your daughter’s, your family’s and your own healing.
Lex,
My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family during this time. I have been absent from your blog for some time and something made me stop and check in. I’m glad I did. I truely hope things take a turn for the better.
Very Respectfully,
Josh
So sorry I missed this. Been a bit of a recluse online of late.I am so sorry that your family is in the middle of this. I relate to much of this post. I truly hope the best for all of you. xo