Hi Gershbunny, we are glad you are here and we understand your feelings about your son.
One time (maybe more than one time), we had a discussion here on this site about whether or not to give up hope. Some people said hope just keeps you engaged and it's too painful to hope, and others said they would never give up hope.
For me, there is a difference between having expectations...and having hope. I think it's the expectations of other people that get us into trouble.
You might say (and I have said, many times), well, of course we have expectations of other people, at least the very basic ones, to grow up, to be responsible, to do what you're supposed to do, to be productive, to be a contributing citizen, etc. etc. For me, I had even more: get a college degree, get a good job, be a professional, get married, have 2.5 kids, come over every Sunday for dinner...etc. etc.
One of my sons went pretty much along that path (so far) and the other one didn't. I mean he really didn't. At all.
Imagine my surprise when my younger son didn't follow in his dad's footsteps, in my footsteps, in his brother's footsteps. I had expected so many things of him, so many specific things, and here he was homeless, in jail, using drugs, getting arrested over and over again, being homeless again, walking around our town of 110,000 people high and messed up all the time.
This was a situation I had never even thought about, much less experienced. It took me a long long long time, years, to get to the point where I could stop enabling him, work on my own codependency, and let go of him. This was after trying everything under the shining sun plus more to get through to him.
Visualize this: A grown woman (me) literally pulling my son (taller than me, bigger than me) out of the bed, pushing him into the shower, going back to check on him four or five times while he was in the shower, laying out his clothes, pulling and pushing him into the car (while he kept saying, I'm tired, I don't want to go...like a little kid) with his hoody pulled over his head, driving him to the counselor/therapist/psychologist/psychiatrist, going in, doing all of the talking while he sat hunched down in the chair...leaving the room so they could talk in private (ha!!!) and then waiting outside only to learn that my son wouldn't say a word. The entire time he wouldn't say one single word. Now, this is the literal definition of leading a horse to water...but you can't make him drink. And reading this, doesn't it sound ridiculous that someone (me) would actually do this. Thinking something good would happen.
And I did this multiple times. I kept thinking that if he could just get somewhere that somebody could help, break through, offer SOMETHING, maybe he would straighten up. I actually believed that a light switch would flip one day and he would be...normal...and start acting right.
I was the slowest possible learner in the entire world when it came to learning how to let go. As everyone here has said on this thread, you can hope for change. I never stopped hoping for change in my son. I never stopped praying for change in my son.
But having expectations for another adult's life just doesn't work. They have their life. We have our life. Two separate lives. They can make of it what they want to make of it. So can we.
Here's what we CAN do:
1. We can offer support and love and encouragement.
2. We can tell them (one time, not 20 times) about resources that are available. Even this is sometimes a stretch because adults can get their own information, right? They know how to get information. The fact that they haven't gotten the information likely means they don't want it. But...we can offer the information that we learn about, shelters, food pantries, assistance, free counseling, job search, rehab, detox, etc. I learned in Al-Anon that if you say it more than once, you're trying to control the situation...again taking the control instead of them having the control...trying to fix and manage...having expectations. And believe me, I said it all 100s of times. I thought he must not have heard me, so I would say it all again and again and again.
3. We can stop the flow of money. This single thing can have more of an impact than almost anything else we can ever do or say. This means they will very likely have to face the consequences of their own choices (unless they have other people to tap first).
4. We can set boundaries that work for us. Do we want to talk to them on the phone frequently/once a week/every day? Do we want to see them? How often? Where? Under what circumstances. At one point I told my son to call me only between 9 and 10 a.m. on Saturday. I only saw him 10 minutes a week on Fridays at the day shelter. We would sit in the car and talk. This was during the time I was having to pull way way back because I was his biggest enabler and I was starting to see how much damage all of my "help" was causing, and I knew I had to set strong physical boundaries with him/and with me. This went on for months, and at first, he didn't like it one little bit, and it was very hard for me to maintain. Very hard.
I would never advise or believe that losing hope is an option. For me, I never ever stopped hoping. But I did stop expecting. And that took a long time to understand how to do that.
We're here for you. We know the pain of all of this, the grief, the despair, the frustration, the incredible anxiety to just take some kind of action. Not taking action is very hard for people like me. I know how to do that a lot better than standing back and staying silent.
We respect whatever you decide to do with your son, and we will be here to listen and support and encourage you.
Two books I would recommend: CoDependent No More by Melody Beattie and Boundaries by Cloud and Townsend. Both helped me tremendously.