I am married with three adult children—one daughter and two sons—and I have three grandchildren.

Years ago, I divorced my first husband because of his addictions. At the time, my oldest son was young, and I spent nearly a decade raising my two children as a single mother.

My oldest son was a kind, loving, and compassionate child. He played sports throughout his school years, participated in youth activities, and our family was active in our faith community.

When he was a teenager, warning signs began to appear. A coach contacted me to express concern about the people he was spending time with and the fact that he was no longer attending practices. Around the same time, his school informed me that his grades were slipping and that he was at risk of not graduating.

As we looked more closely, we discovered that he had begun using methamphetamine and marijuana. One day, we found apples in his room with holes carved into the middle and a strong smell of marijuana. It was then that we realized he had been using them as makeshift pipes to smoke in his room.

We also began noticing significant changes in his behavior. He became increasingly paranoid, stayed out late, and sometimes would not come home at all. The happy, engaged young man we knew seemed to be slipping away from us.

Shortly after turning eighteen, my son accepted an invitation from a cousin to go out for the evening in a car that he believed had been borrowed from a friend. What he didn’t know was that the car was stolen.

The night ended with a police and helicopter pursuit before the vehicle was finally stopped. The other individuals fled, leaving my son alone in the car. Frightened, confused, and facing a situation he had never imagined being part of, he was arrested.

My husband and I spent our savings trying to help him navigate the legal consequences. What we did not realize at the time was that this would mark the beginning of a decades-long struggle with addiction and serious mental illness.

Over the years, he has cycled through countless treatment programs, recovery homes, detox facilities, shelters, hospitals, and periods of incarceration. I have honestly lost count.

Through it all, our family tried nearly everything. We enabled, pleaded, rescued, worried, cried, hoped, and prayed. We allowed him to come back home repeatedly, believing that if we just loved him enough or helped him enough, things would finally change.

Eventually, I had to face a difficult reality: his addiction was affecting every member of our family.

More than ten years ago, I made the painful decision that he could no longer live in our home. Even then, I continued searching for ways to help him. I transported him to shelters, arranged places for him to stay with relatives, and took him to therapists and outpatient appointments.

No matter where he went, the addiction followed.

Like many parents, I felt overwhelmed, exhausted, and alone. I spent countless hours searching for answers and support. That search eventually led me to PAL.

Through PAL, I discovered something I desperately needed: a community of people who understood.

Reading the stories of other parents helped me realize I was not alone. PAL’s teaching and support helped me better understand addiction and mental illness as complex diseases, not moral failures. Most importantly, I learned that while I cannot control another person’s choices, I can choose how I respond.

There is not a PAL meeting close to my home, so I attend online meetings. They have become an invaluable source of encouragement, education, and hope.

PAL has taught me the importance of healthy boundaries, self-care, and focusing on what I can control instead of trying to control someone else’s recovery. The lessons I have learned continue to help me make healthier choices for myself while still loving my son.

My son continues to struggle, but recently he was approved for a court-sponsored program that offers another opportunity for change.

While I cannot predict what his future will hold, I continue to hold on to hope. There will always be a place for him in our lives when he is ready. PAL has helped me understand that recovery is a journey and that I can support my son without losing myself in the process.

Today, I continue to seek help, lean on the PAL community, and encourage other parents who may be just beginning this difficult journey.

No matter how isolated you may feel, there is strength in knowing you do not have to walk this road alone.

—PAL Mom

“In the midst of struggle, love remains and hope carries us forward.”