I picked my son up from college as a seemingly successful freshman and exactly one week later, on December 22nd, I was checking my drug addicted teen into rehab. My baby boy. My pride. My talented, compassionate son, who has in him what it takes to be a gift to the world. It's been the most devastating, scary, overwhelming, anxiety-inducing, shocking, isolating time of my life. Living with constant uncertainty. I'd make a decision only to question the last while moving on to the next. Battling against the denial that crept in constantly with promises of comfort in this storm. Working to support him without taking over his recovery. My actions, my hypervigilance would not dictate the outcome. I had to release control where I never had it to begin with. And this disease has a stigma that keeps us silent and isolated. The energy I've wasted to keep secret something I know should not be shameful but is. My wish and prayer is that, by reading this, others who love an addict can find hope, a feeling of belonging, and some useful strategies. Maybe, you'll even feel inspired to share your story too. And, if you've never loved an addict, I hope you gain some insight, a new perspective and some strategies to tuck away....... in case. Chances are, I'm a lot like you.