would be torture without pain medication. Wow! That was not what I expected to hear. My interpretation of what she said was that my son became an addict so she could have a job.
We were able to convince Matt (with the help of Katie’s friends) and Tim that he needed professional help. It was going to be at a local outpatient health department clinic. I went with Matt to his intake interview. The first part of the intake was private between Matt and the interviewer. I joined the two after a short period. She told me that she and Matt had both agreed that a Suboxone program would probably be the best treatment. I had no idea what Suboxone was. She explained that it is a drug used in the treatment of opioid dependence. She said that Matt could start as soon as he was seen by the doctor who was on vacation at the time. He was expected back in a week. She then instructed Matt to tell me the other thing they discussed in private. Matt said to qualify for treatment, he would have to have drugs in his system when he started. You could have knocked me over with a feather! In other words, I would have to permit my son to use illegal drugs for another week. Not only that, but I would also have to be the one to buy them since Matt had no money.
Matt did get treatment, but it wasn’t a week later. The doctor was on vacation for two additional weeks. Then when he returned, he had to see all his regular patients before seeing anyone new. Matt was not seen for almost two months. And yes, I kept Matt high the entire time he waited to start.
I should have asked more questions. Knowing what I know now, Matt would have only gotten the minimal amount of drugs to prevent withdrawal while waiting. Instead, he got the full amount that his body was used to. Allowing Matt to have the high amount of opiates and me being the one paying for them caused huge conflicts between Ryan, Tim, and I. I don’t regret the conflict, but I most certainly regret not asking more questions. Matt only lasted about two months before being discharged from the program for dirty urine.
Ryan
Ryan’s drug problems kept escalating. I would stop by his house unannounced only to find shady things going on that left a really bad taste in my mouth. It wasn’t just what Ryan was doing either. There were rumors going around that drugs were being used and sold while my grandson played in the same room. There were all-night parties, and people were constantly coming and going from their house. I arranged to have my grandson go to my daughter’s house while I tried to have a one-on-one intervention with Ryan. It did not go well.
Ryan was very defensive and called the police on me for kidnapping. Surprisingly, the police were on my side. They knew I didn’t kidnap my grandson, but I still had to tell Ryan where he was. The police tried to get me to bring child endangerment charges against Ryan and his fiancée. Ryan’s house was known to the police as a “house of interest.” His neighbors had been calling in complaints for quite some time because of all the constant comings and goings and suspected drug activity.
If I agreed to bring charges against Ryan and his fiancée, the police would have had the right to search the property. If anything at all was found incriminating, they would have both been arrested and forced into treatment, and my grandson would have been placed in my custody.
I regret not bringing charges against them. I had an opportunity to force Ryan into treatment and didn’t take it, knowing my grandson was in harm’s way.
Matt
Matt’s heroin use continued after being kicked out of the health department clinic. More and more money and items of value continued to come up missing. Tim was constantly buying back the pawned items that we knew were being stolen. I begged Matt to enroll in patient treatment. He refused to go, and Tim didn’t want to pay the initial co-pay. Our house was in constant turmoil. Tim was drinking more and more and was coming home less and less.
I felt like Katie and I were left all alone to deal with the growing drug and alcohol problems. We didn’t know who to talk to or where to turn. Katie finally asked her friend for help. Her friends suggested a treatment center called the Hope House. She made a call for us, and Matt had a bed waiting for him in two days. I put on my big girl pants and told Tim to pull the co-pay from our bank account, which he did. I told Matt that if he didn’t go, then he could no longer live in our house. It appeared everyone was on board.
The next day, Matt told me he had a lunch date with his on-again, off-again girlfriend. She picked him up, and they never came back. She took him to her parents’ house in another county about forty-five minutes away and they turned off their phones. I was able to call the girl’s mother one time before she turned off her phone too. I cried while pleading with her to bring Matt back so he could get into rehab. Her response was that she didn’t think Matt nor her daughter had a drug problem. I went to the rehab center the next day, hoping that Matt had reconsidered. He hadn’t.
I still was not giving up on Matt. My brother suggested that I petition the court for what’s called an “emergency petition” to force Matt into rehab. Technically, the petitions are for loved ones of someone who suffers from mental health issues to force them into treatment because they may hurt themselves or others. Matt’s age (now twenty-four years old) kept the judge from granting me the petition. He was an adult, and at the time, addiction was not considered a mental health issue. I cried and cried, so disappointed.
I wasn’t sure where Matt was or if he was even still alive. It had been almost a week since he left. While sitting in my car crying, I got a phone call from the Montgomery County Court House in Rockville, Maryland, asking me if I planned on attending Matt’s bail hearing. He had been arrested the night before for possession. I briefed her on what had transpired in the past week. She was going to try to delay Matt’s hearing until I got there. Matt was going to be released on his own recognizance. While waiting for his paperwork to be completed, I called the rehab center, and they had a bed available in two days.
The forty-five-minute car ride home was nothing short of a ride from hell. Matt was going through withdrawal. It was a side of him I had never seen. He was ugly, angry, and out of control. The entire ride home, he was kicking and banging the windows. He called me every name in the book and said I should have just let him die in jail. He told me I had no right to interfere with his life. There were moments when I thought Matt was going to jump out of my car. It was by far the longest ride of my life, and I was sure we weren’t going to make it home alive.
Katie was able to get Matt some Percocet to take until we took him to rehab. The next day, we went back to Rockville to meet with Matt’s court liaison. She made it very clear that he had two choices—jail or rehab. Matt chose rehab.
That night before bed, Matt came to my room. I had never seen him so vulnerable. He and I were both crying. He told me how sorry he was for all the heartache he had caused. He told me he fled because he was in such constant pain that he couldn’t imagine his life drug-free. Rehab scared the hell out of him. I slept well that night. I truly thought my problems with Matt were in the past.
I got a phone call from Matt’s counselor three days into his treatment. She said we needed to talk immediately about Matt’s mental health issues. Katie went with me to meet with the counselor. Matt greeted us at the door. He was smiling, happy, and looked amazing. I was emotional over his transformation. It was his (and Ryan’s) twenty-fifth birthday. Matt said to us, “Happy birthday to me. It’s the first time since I was fourteen years old that I’ve been sober on my birthday.” That was very hard for me to hear. Where was I on all those birthdays that I didn’t even know my teenage son was high? I had no idea that Matt had been using at such a young age.
I found things out about Matt at the meeting that I was completely unaware of: Matt, being the people pleaser all his life, had suppressed his true feelings. Some of it was trivial but had festered so long deep inside that it was now something major to him. Matt cried most of the time while releasing
