Sooner, rather than later...

When I look at the various flowers in my garden, I see so much variety that it amazes me how beauty can come in so many flavors.  The smells are wondrous and the colors are bright seeking the attention of birds and bees to easily find their way from far away in order to pollinate and spread their seeds at distances that otherwise would be impossible.  Nature has found a way to make things happen even though no actual sentient mental process is involved, no brain, no neurons, and no human intervention.  In this intricate and complex process of mindless procreation things happen only when they are supposed to happen.  The right season and weather conditions induce their bloom, which is entirely in tune with their survival and surrounding.  No creature has to contribute to making the plants the right color.  The plants themselves have everything they need encoded within them to entice their surrounding world to contribute to their well being.

Recently, my oldest son and I had a significant fallout, to put it mildly.  Just a few days earlier one of his close friends arrived at my home with his hands covered in blood after an argument at his parent’s house which ended in him putting his fist through a glass window.  As the young man walked into my home asking if he could use my bathroom to wash and heal his wounds, less than one minute later a deputy arrived because his parents had made a 911 call to report his aggressive behavior.  Patrol cars arrived, the teenage boy was cuffed, and in less than an hour the decision had been made to take him to a hospital to have him “evaluated.”  Later that same day, in an effort to show my support to my son and two of his friends, I offered that if they were in trouble because of using drugs like meth that I would gladly support their efforts in finding them the appropriate help.  I said nothing more, nothing less, and my words were heart filled with kindness and non judgmental.  In return, my son followed my comment a few minutes later with a barrage of insults via phone texting explicitly demanding that I stay out of their lives.  Removing much of the profanity, this is the content of his messages -

“SON: You are the biggest a-----e ever.  You don’t mention meth in front of rehabilitating tweekers like (name of other boy).  You don’t act like you have any f-----g clue, ANY F-----G CLUE, how to handle or to understand at all any part of the recovery process, you don’t attempt to muddle with people who are doing successful in their sobriety because THE VERY SECOND you stick your hands in you ruin our chances of happiness, our chances of living sober. We understand and are well enough acclimated with ourselves to coach ourselves through this process.  The moment an ignorant outsider like you tries to "help", which just means do whatever the f--k benefits you, is the same moment we find ourselves pushed towards an unhealthy decision, because admit it or not you have NO IDEA how our minds work or the way we view the world because as selfish and narcissist as you might be to admit, the universe is subjective and the purest fact is that you know NOTHING, that you can know NOTHING, I only know that I know nothing, Socrates, so every time you or anyone who knows nothing tries anything something bad always happens. We know how to keep each other sober. F--k, we're even going to an NA meeting tomorrow and we don’t have to. But the second you start judging, the second you start threatening, the second you intervene at all even in the tiniest way, is the second I want to give up everything I'm striving for just to spite your ignorance, the second I want to throw my life away just for the statement, the second I want to buy all the drugs I can even if I don’t want to.

DAD:  I agree, believe it or not...this is harder for me than you think and I just don't want you and your friends to get hurt.  I am scared of losing you to jail or worse, death.

SON:  I've needed to tell you this for a while: for god’s sake, STOP trying to intervene. I don't care what selfish reason you have, I don't care how it makes you feel or what it makes you think, because as blind as you are to it, those are ALL the most SELFISH and DISGUSTING reasons to feel anything or to think anything and every time I have to endure them it drives me farther and farther to choices I should not make AND I AM AT A POINT WHERE I DONT WANT TO MAKE THOSE CHOICES ANY MORE. So if you are just going to get mad and not listen then I am going to end up killing myself, either slowly with a drug or quickly with a jump, and I'm a rational person who wants neither so if you really love me and don’t just love yourself and use the delusion of loving me to feed your ego, then just STOP. Just f-----g stop because I'm tired and can’t take much more. That’s all I'm trying to say.

DAD: I truly agree...good night...I need to get some rest.”

The message was clear, it held in its content and tone the same bright colors that some reptiles wear as a warning for other creatures to stay clear of their venom.  Obviously my short words of agreement were an effort to diffuse his unexpected rage and allow him to say his peace without judgment.  In reality, I am not sure what to think of most of the content of his outburst.  It has taken me days to assimilate what in some places seem like hopeful words of someone that is wanting to get out of whatever trap they are in, and in others the unspoiled anger that could be brought out by insanity.  “Leave me alone, I don’t need your love, your help, and your intervention to become healthy again…” are the sharpest notes of this song.  “If you try to help, all that I will do is making things worse just to spite you…” is the chorus.  I could barely sleep that night trying to make sense of what at that moment seemed as some of the most hurtful words that my son had ever said to me.  Yet I knew that I had very little choice in the matter, so I found my place back in the arms of my solitude and prayers.

Nothing can prepare you for the things that are scheduled to happen in your life, but are totally out of your control.  One night afterwards, while requesting that he kept his loud behavior inside our home in order to not annoy the neighbors at 4:50 a.m., I found myself at the other end of a physically aggressive response which eventually led to calling the police to have him taken to be evaluated at a hospital, just as had happened to the other boy a few days before.  As the deputy asked me if I wanted to press charges of assault, I found myself under the proverbial rock of knowing that what I wanted and what he needed were two entirely different things.  I never answered the question which eventually led the deputy to call in another officer that specialized in teenage crisis situations.  The unfortunately familiar routine of handcuffs, the backseat of a patrol car, and the heart breaking experience of having my son taken away is something that I am unable to truly put into words.  For lack of a better description, imagine that an alien being had the power to reach into your chest and tightly squeeze your heart to no end, maybe this is what it really feels like, but I am not entirely sure.

As I went to visit him on one of the two daily one hour visiting opportunities, I calmly asked if he understood what he had done that got him hospitalized in the first place.  Immediately he replied that I had initiated the physical confrontation and that he had almost been released until the emergency room doctor decided to call me and ask me questions with regards to the event.  He claims to not remember being the aggressor.  No acknowledgement to taking off his shoe and throwing it unexpectedly to my face.  Worst of all, no real sign of feeling any remorse or guilt other than saying whatever words might allow him to be released.  One of the things he either denies or truly does not remember saying was a threat of getting a gun from a friend and shooting me.  I believe that this was actually the reason his mother decided to call the police after I had locked myself in my room and made an effort to explain to her what had happened over the phone.  At the moment I was confused, and hurt not only physically, but also emotionally.  The moment had crippled my ability to make any decision as to how to proceed.  In fact, when he had become violent, I had done something entirely not in my character by retreating instead of taking a physical stand.  Regardless of the physical injuries that even today, three days later, don’t allow me to use one of my hands, the worst part of the attack was that to my heart.  As corny or pathetic as it may sound, what hurts the most is my bruised heart from this encounter.

If nature has all of the encoding necessary to take care of itself, why is it that us humans posses so little power to influence what surrounds our lives in order to be well?  I constantly find myself struggling to understand the reason that drives so many people to inflict harm to others instead of help each other survive.  I can’t for the life of me see the point of so much unnecessary hurt and pain.  It is not as if I have neglected to keep my part of the deal with God, since I love my son unconditionally and without limits.  I pray that at some point in time all of this will make some kind of sense, because at this very moment it is far from clear to me why it has to happen in the first place.

Please do me a favor and pray for me and my son so that the super natural things that are supposed to happen to make us whole again, take place soon rather than later.

Dad