Sea Monkeys. My childhood obsession. My brother and I would find the ad in the back of the TV Guide or the back of Sixteen Magazine and beg my mom to order them for us. The thought of sprinkling something into a fish bowl and waking up with sea monkeys was more than we could bear. Sea Monkeys! How awesome. My mom never ordered them.
"They are a ripoff". My mom was not buying into the thought of sea monkeys, the over night primate sensation.
Over the past year, my phone rings, i answer it and on the other end is a mom (start inserting sobs) who is in need of advice. She is on the first part of the trip, the "my child has a substance abuse problem" trip. And she is obsessed with fixing the problem. She wants to know where she can purchase sea monkeys.
Today, my phone rang, again. It was a friend. A dear friend. And she was crying. And then, she spilled the beans. "I have to take my son to a rehab facility. He has a substance abuse problem."
And all I could say was breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
I listened to her. And I could her myself in her a year ago. Scared and "I have to fix this" mode.
And I said to her, what I wish someone would have said to me, "slow down and let your child own this and own the recovery. Get into therapy, all of you. "
And, like all of the other mothers, she said this "I wish I would have done certain things and I have made mistakes but I don't understand what causes the pain that leads to addiction."
The million dollar mystery. It is simple, when you are a substance abuser, what it is that you abuse, is what gives you the greatest joy. Had a bad day, drink a case of beer. Had a great day, drink a case of beer. Don't feel like going to class, drink a beer. You went to class, now drink a beer. Never does the beer say," pick up your clothes, go see your grandfather, your checking account is overdrawn, take out the trash or get your elbows off the table.' Some people eat mac and cheese, chips and dip, chocolate or Marlboro 100's. Mac and cheese will make you chunky, but chances are, you won't lose your job, your girlfriend, wife, drivers license or serve jail time.l You may be constipated from all the cheese but you will not be wearing orange.
The substance makes "ice cream taste better, movies funnier, sex better, and I am able to run faster". Those words will be etched into my brain, Franklin's as well, forever. Those words started our adventure.
And we too wanted sea monkeys. Let's put our kid in rehab, 28 eight days, look at the sea monkeys and get back to normal. There are not sea monkeys.
Looking back, panic was at the base of every decision. Panic kept us up and night and panic kept us going during the day. Panic fueled are bad decisions.
Looking back, we should have slowed down to move forward. We should have allowed our child to own it, help design treatment and recovery and the road ahead.
Typical, I went all Type A on the situation and went in to fix-it asap mode.
I should have taken my own advice, I should have been sucking in breaths and exhaling slowly. And I should have remembered what my mom said, "sea monkeys are a rip off."
Knowing that your child needs help is the most important part of the ailment. Knowing. But, and it is a big but, it is only the beginning. Now the work starts. And it takes a long time. It feels like an eternity.
Today's call was the worst. This mom has been my friend since I moved to NC. Our kids have a history and she is and has been a great mom. We have dieted together. We have laughed together. Our kids have been a huge glue for our friendship.
I felt her pain and her panic in all of my veins. And tonight, while I lay awake and stare at the ceiling with a million more questions, I have one more to add tonight, why aren't there sea monkeys for moms?
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