Beauty and the Beast

First of all, some of you may think, wow, some of these blogs are heavy. True, sometimes they are. I hope I also communicate hope and love in these stories. They are proof of survival, love, learning, healing, of success. We all have such stories; some perhaps more than others, and we all have a beast or two in our closet. I hope that these stories inspire, provide empathy and hope for those who also struggle.

This is a photograph of my son Will, taken by Larry with his 8 x 10, shortly after he came back from the Air Force a year or two ago. He was in for a 6 year stint; he was part of the nuclear weapons division. His ASVAB scores were so high that all branches of the military courted him. He could pick anything he wanted. After near a year, something happened and he was cut loose from his contract. When he came home he looked really great; fit, clean cut, handsome as all hell. But he was not right, he was a mess, and much happened over the following year.

Psychiatric and addiction genes have been generously donated to him by both sides of the family. He has suffered depression, addiction, what I believe to be manic episodes. When he crashes, he is on the street. When he is doing well, he is working and keeping his life together talking of college, a car, and a different life. He is a beautiful but very intense 21 year old.

He has been doing well for a while, but I see the signs coming. My guts tell me he is not taking care of himself, he weighs next to nothing, and I wonder what drugs he may be doing, awaiting that phone call comes telling me he has no where to live again, and the strength I must garner to tell him to go to a shelter. I carry the pain of tough love in my heart. It is heavy. I keep hoping he will crash and have to follow through on the help he so badly needs. I know I am powerless, as Al-Anon has taught me.

I have not seen him in several months. He was too busy working or keeping busy with other commitments to spend any time here at the holidays. His presents still sit under the tree (ok I know, I have to take down the tree, but I do so love it and it is still fresh.....) I don't think he could handle the family, Megan's illness, and face us. I know something is wrong, and sense another earthquake.

I found this photograph today while cleaning my desk. I stared at it and found myself gazing into the eyes of a beautiful child, but a child who is haunted by a beast he cannot tame.

I take it one day at a time, let go, let God, and pray he will find peace.

Till tomorrow, P.