I drove over an hour to the city my son was living in, to drag him out of a crack house. They said he wasn't there and I threatened to kick down the door if he didn't come out....so he did. (I am not a door kicking kind of person, it was insanity that led me). We went to his apartment, where I spent the night on the couch and as I left to drive home in the morning, he left to go back to the crackhouse.
I had to pull my car off the highway on my drive home because the tears were blinding me, and I remember saying a prayer telling God that I just could not do another day of this and I gave my son to God to take care of.
That's when I knew I was powerless. My meetings gave me enough courage to take a look at my actions and that's when I saw how enabling I had been, thinking I could save him, thinking I knew best.
All the love in the world cannot save our addicts, if it could, not one of us would be here. Only they can save themselves and they won't do that until the pain of using becomes greater than the fear of stopping.
Hugs