My 18 year-old nephew is in jail this morning. At least, I hope he still is. You may think that's an odd thing to say and I suppose on the outside it is.
My nephew was a beautiful little boy, and he is still a beautiful young man. He is my brother's youngest child. His parents' marriage fractured when T was just a little guy, still a mischievous toddler with an infectious laugh and energy as boundless as the ocean.
I wasn't there for a lot of his childhood years, being far away and not having a close relationship with my brother's ex. When my brother finally got his life straightened out as much as he could he spent more time with his kids, but he didn't have a lot of tolerance for bad behavior, and so T avoided his dad, preferring not to be confronted with his bad choices. His mother has always been an excuser, an enabler. She doesn't like to see her children have pain or emotional upset.
Life with an enabling mother, complicated by ADHD and other learning difficulties. Not an easy road for any child to navigate on the route to adulthood. In my relationship with him I have found him to be a sweet kid, a bit lost, a little bit manipulative as many kids are, and a lot sad. He's spent a lot of time getting into trouble, but in the last year or so had gotten in over his head and gotten on heroin. Its a horrible, sad story and the worst part is that thousands of kids live out the same sad story every single day. T went into two different rehabs and checked himself out because he didn't feel they were "right" for his special needs. (Like a lot of addicts, T sees himself and his situation as unusual and special.)
My brother's ex has been letting T stay with her even when he was using and wouldn't finish his rehab. Last year when his girlfriend got pregnant, she also let the girl move in and she and the baby have been there ever since. Their little boy is a year old just last month and sweet as can be.
When I saw T and the rest of the family a few weeks ago, he told me he was not using and that he was keeping his nose clean. I believed him, I had no reason not to. It may have been true at the time, but not today.
Last night T and his son's mother were out driving around, shooting up. With their son in the car. T helped her shoot up, and did not realize that he had overdosed her. When they stopped at a gas station, an alert attendant thought something was wrong and called the police, who picked them up as they were leaving the lot. An ambulance was called. She flatlined on the way to the hospital but they were able to revive her with adrenaline. The family was called and social services let my niece (the one who is having baby #2 any day now) take my great-nephew home. And T is in jail. Where I and most of the family hope that he stays. Except his mother, who is trying to get him bailed out.
Its not my job to tell her how to raise her son and I am grateful as HELL that I'm not in her situation. I hope like hell I never have to be. But I wish there was some way to help her understand that T is never going to get any better as long as the people who love him continue to promulgate the concept that he should never have to suffer, that his actions have no consequences.
Letting other people own their stuff is a hard concept, especially for those of us who have tender hearts. I've always hated to see pain left uncomforted, even as a child. Its painful to see someone you love suffer. I think of my relationship with my own children, learning to walk the fine line between soothing a hurt or giving them comfort, but at the same time allowing them the dignity of dealing with their own feelings. There are things I simply can't fix for them. And even if I could, trying to fix what doesn't belong to me would be a huge mistake.
I'm learning, slowly and painfully, that emotional suffering and discomfort are enormous gifts. They are the catalyst to greater understanding, to growth and change. Sometimes the feelings are so overwhelming I just want to run away from them. I want someone else to tell me "its ok." To fix things. Or I want to escape the feelings by numbing my mind and my body to what I'm feeling. I am learning, instead, to let those feelings come over me and to let the pain that I feel allow me greater understanding of myself, my life, my needs.
In CoDA we are taught that when we continually rescue others from the consequences of their actions, we are in reality denying them the dignity of rescuing themselves. If we believe that within us we have the tools to manage our own lives, then we must step back from other people's problems and let them find solutions. I believe that as a parent, if I start solving my children's problems for them, I am effectively removing tools from their toolbox, denying them the opportunity to learn to handle what life will bring them. That's the dance of parenting, where gradually we must step back and let our children grow up. A toddler who is carried will never learn to walk. A child who isn't given an allowance and allowed to spend it unwisely never learns the consequences of impulse buying. A child who isn't allowed to get into trouble never learns that our bad choices have consequences.
Its never too late for these lessons to be learned. My nephew has a hard road ahead of him now as the result of his poor choices. I hope and pray that we can all step back and let him learn the lessons that await.
***Updated***
T's mother was able to bail him out of jail as of 2am Monday. He now awaits his hearing in the comfort of his mother's home, and free to use if he chooses. There are so many things I want to say about this, many things I have been muttering under my breath since I heard yesterday, but I cannot type them coherently and won't try right now. Maybe later.
On a more positive note, his girlfriend was also released from the hospital and sent home. Well, to where she has been living. Which is...T's mother's home.
I just rolled my eyes so hard I may have sprained something.
