A mother’s perspective: You don’t need to stand by and watch your child fail

Linda S. will never forget the day she saw a man lying inebriated at the side of the road, and suddenly realizing it was her 37-year-old son. It was a shock. Linda knew he drank, but living in a different city, and with her son’s reluctance to share his situation, Linda missed earlier clues that he was unable to cope.

It turned out that due to excessive drinking, Linda’s son had lost his license and his job. He was thin and haggard. “He was a mess,” says Linda. “He had tried to stop drinking and he just couldn’t. And he couldn’t find any help.” It took some time for Linda to process this reality, but once she realized the extent of the issue, she sprang into action. For the son she loved with all her heart, she moved across the country, and went looking for help.

But everywhere she turned for information and treatment options, she heard similar advice: She should step back and let him hit rock bottom.

To Linda, turning her back on her son when he needed her most was inconceivable. As a nurse, this less-than-compassionate approach was even more upsetting. “I wondered, ‘Why am I kinder to my patients? And why are we kinder to people with cancer than we are to people with alcohol use disorder?”

Friends and professionals alike counselled that she should wait until he wanted to help himself. But Linda could see that her son wanted to stop; the physical effects of withdrawal were simply too much to overcome. “After only nine hours without alcohol, he had shakes so bad that he couldn’t hold a cup of coffee.

Through research, Linda came across a new model of care called pro-dependence that validated what she had been feeling in her gut: it’s wrong to label people as enablers and advise them to withdraw support from loved ones. Rather, within set boundaries, this new model advised that people should continue to assist those who are struggling.

Even with this approach, starting out on the road to recovery was still difficult. Linda used a subtle approach when suggesting that her son needed to seek help. When he resisted counselling, she remained supportive and they attended the sessions together. “He was angry, but he knew he wanted to get sober.”

To deal with the physical symptoms of withdrawal, her son wanted Linda to help him detox. Although an experienced nurse, Linda felt she didn’t have the necessary skills. They were unsure where to turn next.

A chance conversation at work helped Linda find out about medical treatment options for AUD. Filled with new hope, she contacted Dr. Jeff Harries, founder of the Canadian Alcohol Use Disorder Society, for more information.

“He gave my son hope,” Linda says of Dr. Harries’ assistance. “He wasn’t judgmental. And when a respected healthcare provider says ‘You’re not just a drunk, and this will help you,’ it means something. Dr. Harries gave him a boost both psychologically and medically.”

Her son was prescribed Naltrexone to reduce cravings and ease withdrawal symptoms, which he took alongside continued counselling and other supports. One year later, he is still sober, has a full-time job, is living with his girlfriend and eating healthier. “He has come so far,” Linda says with pride.

While currently doing well, Linda and her son have a plan in case of relapse, which includes relying on the knowledge and comfort that medications can be re-prescribed and will work again if needed. “I’m still scared and tell him, ‘If you start drinking again, don’t be too embarrassed to come talk to me.’” He agrees, but also assures his mom that he just doesn’t have cravings anymore.

“Most people write off 2020, but my son says it’s been the best year he’s had in 20 years. He’s loving this new life.”

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Learning that AUD is not a moral failing was key to lasting success

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Finding the freedom to enjoy an occasional glass of wine