Doing the Uncomfortable Thing

If this photo makes you feel ill at ease, it does me also!  (This isn't my son.)

What would you do if you found needles for drug use in your son’s room, a son who had a history of drug use?

To further complicate matters, what would you do in that situation if you (and your wife) had established a rule that absolutely no alcohol or drugs were to be found or used in the home, and that the violator could no longer live in the home?

This was not theoretical; it was my awful reality.  It was my circumstance some five years ago with my son Robert.  I had to make a huge final decision that would not only significantly impact him, but my other children, my wife, and me.

Robert had started smoking dope during junior high years.  Before he was 18, my wife and I had sent him out of state for over six months to a place for self-destructive boys.  He continued his drug use and graduated to sniffing or huffing, then to taking hallucinogens, and then experimenting with other drugs.  At the time I discovered the needles, he was shooting up heroin.  He attended an outpatient rehab program, and then went into another inpatient rehab program for a couple of months in his mid-20s, but he was still acting out of the shame he felt, and needing the drugs to dull the pain.  

I had found out that he had stolen and sold some of my school books and precious coins and bills, and had taken some blank checks and had written them to himself (because his name is also Robert) to get drug money.  And that is all that I know that he took from us; there's probably more.  He had caused my marriage to suffer as my wife and I wrestled with differing objectives as to how to deal with him and his drug use.  He was manipulating us to play on our fears and emotions.  His drug use had become the center of our family dynamic.

So here I was confronted with implementing a consequence for his behavior, a behavior that was clearly in violation of a rule my wife and I had agreed upon.  In that crucible moment, I had to decide whether to do the easier thing and what would have made me feel better and feel more compassionate, or whether to do the difficult, uncomfortable thing that in the end would be the best for him.

I realized the implications of following through with the consequence.  He was my son.  He even had my name.  I would not know where he would be spending that night, or other nights.  I would not know how he would survive financially.  I would be turning him out onto the mean streets of LA. 

Surely I saw myself as kind and gentle.  Surely I needed to protect him from those unknowns.  Surely I needed to feel that I was a good father and taking care of my son.  Surely I could feel good about being merciful by telling him that his behavior was unacceptable and would not be tolerated, and allow him to stay.  Surely I didn’t want to be seen as hard-hearted.

But that would have made it more about me and what’s best for me, and not about him and what ultimately was best for him.

What would be best for him, and would make me uncomfortable, was to follow through with the consequence.  He needed to experience the consequence of his choice.  I hadn’t made a poor choice; he had.  What was best for him (and what I didn’t know at the time) was to experience those mean streets of LA in order to know that he definitely didn’t want to be there.  What was best for him was for me to focus on him and not on me.

So what did I finally do?  I faced my fears.  I faced the knot in my stomach.  I did what made me uncomfortable.  I did what ultimately was best for him.  Despite his protestations, I stood firm and said he had to leave and that he had to leave right then.

I will never forget how difficult it was to see him walk up those stairs and onto the street.  

I will never forget how my heart ached; how bad I felt.  

I will never forget the uncertainty of that moment.  

But I will never forget the difficult decision I made that terrible day to do what would ultimately lead him to seek help for his addiction.

My therapist at that period of time stated a truth that I embraced in that crucible event and have ultimately embraced in my life since then.  She said as a couplet on multiple occasions, “If some action makes you feel comfortable, you probably ought not to do it.  And if the action makes you feel uncomfortable, you probably ought to do it.”

As I have been delighted to document in this blog on previous occasions, Robert continues to stay clean and sober.  He will soon become a licensed Drug and Alcohol Rehabilitation Counselor, having completed the coursework.  He is on the staff of the Beacon House inpatient rehabilitation program, with full-time work and benefits.  He recently moved out of the Beacon House and into an apartment which he is furnishing largely by himself.  He possesses emotional maturity, understands the nature and importance of accountability, and understands what he can and can’t do in his recovery.

I wonder what would have happened if I had not done the difficult, uncomfortable, best thing for him that terrible day….  

My son Robert with his oldest sister, Rebecca, this past summer!