Monday, May 18, 2009


There. I said it. "Uncle." Which is another way of saying, "I give up." And that's just about where I'm at today, for a few different reasons.

First of all, my son admitted the other day to using again. It was "only marijuana" (his words), but that doesn't soften the blow much. And I know that "Relapse is a part of recovery." But so what. It's still very disappointing.

Then there was Saturday night, which was a major challenge in our house. My son was upset because of some issues with his friends, and my wife and I were the ones his anger was directed at. We were accused of everything from not caring to the exact opposite: being over-protective. Maybe my son was just saying things without thinking in a fit of rage, but I have to say that being accused of not caring about him really hurts. When I think of all the time, money, and energy--both physical and emotional--that my wife and I have expelled trying to help our son over the last five years or so, I am dumbfounded as to how he can accuse us of not caring. And as far as being over-protective goes? Sure, we're going to be pretty damn cautious given the circumstances facing us. To not do so would be, in my opinion, reckless.

The kicker came today, though, and it has nothing to do with my son. At least not directly. Today was the first day of enrollment for my employer's new health care plan. Our medical benefits are changing on July 1st because our association with the company that used to own us is ending (we were bought by a private equity firm a couple of years ago). I was pretty certain that the amount I pay for my health care coverage was going to go up. But I was shocked by what I found out this morning.

Under the most expensive health care option I can afford--which will cost me about $40.00 a month more out-of-pocket--the co-pay for a mental health/substance abuse office visit will now cost my family $40.00 instead of the current $20.00. For my oldest son alone, that's probably going to mean an additional $1,800.00 a year out-of-pocket if we want to continue his current treatment. And this doesn't even take into consideration any mental health office visits for me, my wife, or my youngest son. This is going to make it incredibly difficult for me and my family.

It is said that God only gives us as much as we can handle. If that is indeed the case, someone please tell God that I'm close to my breaking point.

1 comment:

  1. Our employers want us to get sick and die young so they can hire young kids who will expect even less than we do.