I took my eldest child on a road trip this past weekend. We left on Friday and I returned very late Saturday, actually at 3am Sunday morning. I took him to my father’s house to get him out of this hellhole we live in that was eating him up alive. Drugs are rampant here. Some people get lost when the drug takes over and he is one of those people. It tears me up inside to watch him vanish and turn into somebody I hardly recognize. When the drug gets somebody, it’s like that person dies. That is all they live for afterwards – to get more of it. Their dreams of becoming somebody in adulthood die with them. It is heartbreaking. It is my hope that his grandpa will be able to find him and get him back to who he was before. It is my hope that it is not too late. For several years, I have been trying my best to find him and he has continued to slip further and further into the abyss. I have asked many for help, including the police, his father, his step-father, and more, but no one has been able to help and there are no programs here that can help. His father was taken by the drug years ago and never came back. He is unable to assist. His step-father turned out to be a complete fraud – a Narcissistic Sociopath who had been abusing the children for years. He wore his mask so well. He is incapable of assisting anyone unless he has something to gain from it and even then, he wouldn’t know how to help. He is incapable of thinking about anyone but himself. The drug masks the pain of the abuses suffered.
This is my last hope. If this doesn’t work, then I don’t know what will happen. I am a mother. I am his mother. Regardless of his age, I cannot let go. I don’t know how to.