I am the parent of two sons, two stepsons, and also two grandchildren. Like so many parents, I never imagined the long, painful journey of loving someone with addiction. No one is prepared for it. Parents of Addicted Loved Ones (PAL) helped me more than I can ever fully express, and I will be forever grateful.
Bobby was an easy baby and a deeply sensitive child. When he was five years old, he suffered a serious eye injury at a babysitter’s home and lost vision in his right eye. During those early years, my husband and I drank alcohol in our home and occasionally used marijuana. As my husband’s substance use escalated, we separated. I worked hard and left that lifestyle behind to become healthier and eventually moved into a small, but cozy house with the boys.
Life, however, had other plans. I was severely burned, and my husband returned to help care for me and the children. That difficult season led us to reconcile, though the underlying issues were never truly resolved.
During Bobby’s high school years, he required extensive dental work, which led to his first exposure to prescription pain medication. Around the same time, my husband had been prescribed pain pills for an injury and used them regularly, which gave Bobby easy access. What began as legitimate medical treatment quietly grew into dependence.
As the years passed, my husband’s substance use worsened—heavy drinking, ongoing pill use, and eventually methamphetamines. By then, our sons were adults and in college, and I made the painful decision to leave. From there, things deteriorated quickly.
Bobby’s addiction escalated from pills to heroin and then meth. I bailed him out more times than I can count, believing that love meant rescuing him. After the divorce, I remarried four years later. Not long after, my ex-husband died by suicide from an overdose of pills. Around that same time, Bobby and his girlfriend welcomed my grandson into the world. I did everything I could to make sure my grandson was safe and cared for, but it was terrifying and overwhelming.
After Bobby’s first arrest, I put my truck up as collateral for his bond. He was hospitalized and then entered recovery, and for a moment, we were full of hope. I was emotionally exhausted and constantly anxious. His addiction continued to progress, and eventually Bobby was living on the streets. I knew where he spent time, and I would bring him food and warm clothes whenever I could.
I believed his lies. I spent enormous amounts of money and emotional energy bailing him out and covering for him with family and friends. I blamed myself for his struggles, convinced that if I had done something differently, things would have turned out another way. By the grace of God, Bobby survived—despite overdosing twice and being revived with Narcan. What ultimately saved Bobby was being arrested and sentenced to prison. What saved me was PAL.
I was blessed with friends who prayed with me, and one of them introduced me to Parents of Addicted Loved Ones. Through weekly support group meetings, I learned how my well‑intended actions were actually enabling Bobby’s addiction. I received counseling, gained clarity, and slowly learned how to set healthy boundaries. I even kept PAL cue cards by the phone so that when Bobby called, I could respond with one of the “gems” instead of reacting out of fear or guilt.
When Bobby would call from prison asking for more commissary money, I was able to stand firm with my boundaries. That strength did not come from me alone—it came from the unwavering support of my PAL group.
Miraculously, Bobby got clean through that experience at prison and has now been sober for six years. He had previously worked as a chef and handyman, but today he works in recovery—what I truly believe is his calling. His caring and sensitive nature, the same one he showed as a little boy, has become a powerful gift in helping others find sobriety and stay there.
In 2023, Bobby married a beautiful woman in a backyard wedding. Every day, I am filled with gratitude for their recovery and the life they are building together.
Today, I am doing better than ever. I know how to take care of myself, how to say no to what doesn’t serve me, and how to release what I cannot control. Each morning, I wake up with a smile, knowing that Bobby’s recovery is his responsibility—not mine. I am at peace, happy, and deeply grateful.
— A PAL Mom
