Friday, May 6, 2011


My Charlie went to rehab in Feburary. He was smoking meth... popping pills... snorting cocaine... just about anything he could get his hands on that would keep him high. But the meth... oh that drug is vicious! Vicious! It even scared HIM.

He called me on the 16th of February and told me he needed help. That he couldn't continue to live like that. Told me he was smoking meth - showed me the blisters in his mouth. I wanted to fall on my knees and cry out - I wanted to HURT someone - ANYONE. But I stood there and told him I loved him and that if he really wanted the help I would find it.

And I did. The very next day, February 17, he went to California for rehab. Didn't stay as long as he should have. He came back "determined" not to do drugs and for weeks he seemed to be okay. Then one day he comes home and I SEE it in his eyes. He used again. He didn't deny it. Told me he "slipped" - that it would not happen again.

This past weekend, he left the beach on Saturday after Maddie's first birthday party and I didn't see him again until Wednesday. The problem is that no matter how high he is, how screwed up he is, he calls me 10 times a day... just to say hi... to tell me he loves me... to tell me he is OKAY, he is SOBER... "Don't worry mom, I'm not doing anything." I tell him I don't believe him and so he continues to call to "reassure" me. I don't think he even remembers he does that. Yet I can hear in his voice - his very drugged voice - that he feels guilty for letting me down.

I don't know what drugs he used this weekend. I guess it really doesn't make any difference.

He is using again and my heart is once again broken in 1000 pieces.