Navigating your child's struggle with addiction is an incredibly challenging journey for any parent. At Brick House Recovery, we understand this struggle firsthand. In this excerpt from Unhooked, written by our founder Jason Coombs, we learn from another father’s experience. Discover how Jason’s father grappled with accepting his son's addiction and started on a path to healing for both himself and his son.

His Story

"For years, what came through my lips to my son was often negative and non-accepting. I had crushed his creativity, and when he wasn't doing what I thought he should be doing, I sought to crush his soul. Of course, I didn’t think I was doing that. I thought I was doing what he needed—to be directed by me to do what was best for him. When Jason was not behaving the way I wanted him to behave, he heard from me. Yes, I loved him, but I don’t remember communicating that to him very often.

When Jason and his siblings were young, we would get compliments everywhere we went. Jason loved to be with us and was the light in the room. Everybody loved him. But when he got into junior high, he changed. Suddenly, he was not my boy—he was someone who cared all too much about what his peers thought. He had to be the cool guy. As he grew older, his social life superseded his time with family. I was harsh with him. I still ruled the roost. I detected he didn’t accept my rulership. He would act like he didn’t care, and I shamed him until his spirit was crushed. It would break my heart when I would get the tough kid to cry. But I knew I had gotten through to him. At least I thought I had.

I expressed my displeasure with his friends as he grew into a teenager. As a result, my son became more and more private and secretive. I found it less painful, I suppose, to be less and less involved in his life. We knew he had dabbled a bit with alcohol in his teen years, and when he got into trouble, I convinced myself he was the victim. Of all our kids, he was the one who acted out. I was unable to see the good in him. Even when he went on his church mission and someone would write something good about him, I thought, He’s sure got them fooled.

Years later, once he was grown, he asked my wife and me to come see him at night. There, he told us he had a prescription drug problem and needed help. I suppose it came as no surprise. At that time, I had no idea it was as serious as it was, and if anyone had told me, I wouldn’t have believed them. As a doctor, it was simple: we could fix this, just change his pain med doses and he’d be fine. I offered to help in any way I could—mostly financial. I focused on what we needed to do to control and fix him, hoping that his drug problem would just go away if he would just shape up. Throughout this time, I would continuously bail Jason out of the problems he had created. I had no idea what I was doing was harmful to Jason, not helpful.

At the time, I didn’t know I was enabling him. I think it was more difficult for me than it was for him that he could be outside sleeping somewhere. I watched his mother, my wife, suffer when we didn’t know if he was safe, and that was perhaps even worse. The more we helped, the deeper he went into his addictive behaviors.

The predominant emotion I felt during those dark days was anger. I couldn’t understand why Jason 'chose' this path for himself. I was angry that he had caused our family so much pain. Deep down, I was afraid. I was afraid for many reasons, but mostly because I might have been the cause of Jason’s addiction by the way I raised him.

When Jason’s pain became great enough, he came to my wife and me and asked for help again. This time, however, he meant it. He suffered and endured a painful road to sobriety and recovery during his inpatient program. During that time, we went to family programs and a great personal shift happened within me as well. I realized I had been harboring selfish, self-serving, and destructive attitudes and behaviors. I began to seek help as well.

I am intensely grateful for Jason, for his addiction and his recovery, and for his path that led me to follow. I now look up to Jason with great respect and admiration. I see now that his pain was greater than mine ever was. If recovery is difficult, regret is agony, and I only regret that I didn’t start this journey sooner."

My Advice to You

Acknowledge your loved one has a disease. It may be hard at first. It may seem impossible, but it’s not. Step out of the anger and denial into surrender of the disease. It’s only when the disease is acknowledged that progress can be made.

Step out of judgment. Don’t let your anger and worries about what others think matter. Make this about your relationship together and forget about the outside world. They all have their own struggles.

Don’t rescue! Let them feel the pain from natural consequences. Do not try to comfort them when they face consequences. That will only keep them comfortable in their disease. Surrender to the fact that they might have to sleep in the streets or jail or even die. Don’t rescue.

Try to love them. Just love them and keep on loving them even though you may not feel like it. This involves a certain level of acceptance and surrender too.

Do your own work. Start on your own 12-step or self-development program. Work on your own spirituality. A great master once said for each of us to focus on the beam in our own eye rather than the speck in another’s.

At Brick House Recovery, we understand that the journey of supporting a loved one through addiction is fraught with challenges. Together, you can navigate these difficulties and find a path to healing. If you or someone you know is struggling with addiction, reach out to us. Let's take this journey together.