Jake was the first-born child in our family, and like all moms and dads, we had aspirational dreams and hopes for his future life. His childhood included a Christian school for the first few years, above-average grades, and playing multiple sports. Our family attended a strong Christian church, and Jake went to camps and vacation bible school and was very engaged. However, things began to change in Jake’s world by the time middle school rolled around. There was now a younger brother on the scene; his mother and I were having marital issues, his stress levels increased, and he started hanging around with the wrong crowd. He soon discovered marijuana.
A divorce ensued, high school commenced, and everything came crashing down. Counseling didn’t help. Jake punched a wall at his mom’s house, leading to a domestic violence judgment. Violating probation, he spent time in a juvenile detention facility. He was expelled from high school. He attended two outpatient rehab programs that didn’t seem to change anything. He was addicted to marijuana, but he started using other drugs. His main drug of choice evolved into smoking opioid pills. He was now legally an adult, and several more attempts at rehab didn’t seem to work.
He couldn’t hold down a job and, at one point, moved in with a woman who appeared to have issues as well. His mom bought him an old mobile home to have a place to live. Maybe the thought was out of sight, out of mind. However, this was hardly the case, as things only got worse. Various degrees of what I see now as enabling continued for years.
Seemingly, things couldn’t get worse until one day about four years ago when I thought I would stop by to see Jake at the mobile home park. I pulled up to a surreal scene surrounded by temporary chain-link fencing. The mobile home’s interior was gutted, its interior charred and mangled by a fire. A neighbor told me it happened the day prior and that my son was taken by ambulance to an unknown hospital. I had heard nothing from him and had no idea this had happened.
Jake suffered a few second and third-degree burns as he tried to rescue his dog from the fire. Sadly, the dog eventually died from the wounds, and the woman he was living with was nowhere to be found, apparently leaving the entire situation. Jake felt alone in the world. The fire department said Jake was responsible for the fire.
Jake soon turned up at my front door at 2 AM. At this time, his birth mother was living out of state. I took him in and wanted him to stay. I thought I could help heal his physical and emotional wounds. I wanted to mentor him and help him get sober.
My current wife logically said it would never work. I remember saying, “But this is my son! He’s 29 years old, and he needs me! I can save him!” I was willing to hurt this great marriage to try and mend Jake back together. Things did not go well, and my wife was preparing to move out temporarily if it continued. It was the worst moment of our then 15-year marriage.
The personal trauma was just too much for Jake. The blue M30 pills and tin foil still beckoned. I had set a boundary, if you are using drugs, you cannot live here, and he was not even trying to quit, so I had to ask him to leave, knowing he had no place to go as long as he chose not to enter treatment. He didn’t want to get sober, and he chose to live on the streets.
It was a true turning point. Realizing my thinking was unclear, we decided to give PAL a try. We quickly embraced each other and realized that they understood us. I began understanding how and why I was making poor decisions with my son, wife, and ex-wife. The most significant thing I learned from PAL was the concept of “delayed emotional growth.” I was treating my 29-year-old like he was still 16! I also saw firsthand the power of prayer. And keeping hope alive. And taking care of yourself first…
After 18 months of being on the streets and suffering through lord knows what, our son checked himself into detox and then rehab. Now, almost two years later, Jake works part-time for the rehab center that helped him get sober and into recovery. He also helps manage a fast-food restaurant and rents a home with his new sweet fiancé.
I truly believe what we learned from PAL helped us get through the trauma and drama, especially the dire “homeless” stretch, and our education and support helped contribute to Jake making that personal commitment on his own to seek recovery. There is always hope!
PAL Dad
