Unfortunately, I did not take Noah’s drug addiction seriously at first. I thought he was just like all other teenagers, going through an identity crisis and just experimenting with drugs. My reasoning, though flawed, told me that we had brought him up correctly and that he would realize, soon enough, that what he was experimenting with was harmful to him and stupid and that he would eventually quit this nonsense of his own accord. This was, of course, the rational thinking of a mother who had the best expectations for her son. What I did not realize at the time was that Noah was already heavily addicted to drugs and that an addict did not think rationally. I was sorely unaware of the associations that had been forming in his brain and of the chemical dependence that his body had developed. I did not realize he was in way over his head and that change was not something that would come easily, and in fact, it would be just the opposite, that this rocky road towards change would be filled with hard times and challenges that I had not even imagined.
Sad to say, in my effort to help him and in my natural desire to believe the best of him, I became the enabler. Time after time, I gave in to his promises, assurances, and requests. No sooner had he promised me that he was telling the truth and that he was quitting than he fell right back into his routine of lying and deceitfulness. Even when he assured me that he was sober, he wasn’t, and the longer this went on, the cleverer he got at hiding it from me. Regardless of what he told me, HE NEVER QUIT. I had become the key to his addiction, the enabler and it was his mission to play me, to keep me fooled, to keep me sympathetic and to keep me giving, a game he played very well.
Regardless of what he told me, HE NEVER QUIT.
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