Making Things Up

Met some new people Friday evening. Six teenagers. All drug addicts. Some with alcohol dependency. But mostly it is drugs plaguing their lives.

We are focusing on their needs within the framework of an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Sharing stories, problems, honesty, a laugh. Coming to grips with the dark clouds within. Knowing the self with some clarity and a promise of more. Letting in the light so the dark centers can abate their terror.

On the outside they are pleasant. All beautiful in one way or another. Youth is like that, I suppose. But the beauty is not just about youth. No; it is about light behind the eyes, peering out at a world wanting to be understood but not very clearly. Some fear. Some trepidation. Holding back and wondering if I will be slapped back for thinking what I’m thinking.

It is their fear. Their sense of not being accepted. On the surface they laugh. They kid around. They almost have feelings of caring for the others. But they shrink for fear they will not be accepted or cared for.  They yearn to say and be heard. But they fear unhearing ears.

Do their parents try to hear? To listen to their kids? Are they even able to or are they also addicts of fear, drugs and alcohol? If they wish to listen, are they able to?

Friday night I learned no. The parents and home life uncovered were dysfunctional. Dad wanted to share drugs with son. Mom doesn't want to deal with husband. Moved out and away. Disowns son because he makes no progress with his addictions. So lives with dad. Who uses. The son and the father are co-users.

Nothing much good will come from this scene. One wonders if there is an institutional answer when the family is this disconnected from reality?

Another young man twists in his seat. Stretches his legs far from where he sits. And grimaces. Keeps up with the conversation a little, smiles on cue. Laughs when it seems OK. Otherwise keeps mum. Doesn't offer any words. He will respond to direct questions. But then that’s a guessing game from the questioner. What is the right question to ask? What answer are you seeking? Will the answers provoke good discussion that will uncover nuggets of help? Or is this a game sure to be lost. Lack of engagement hovers the room.

I've been away from this group for seven months. Took a hiatus to deal with a foreclosed home, a bankruptcy, a search for alternate housing. And finally found the new home and engineered the move both out of the old and into the new. I’ve been distracted. I could not attend the youth group needs. Their needs are large. Mine too. We could not minister to each others’ needs.

But I am coming whole again. I am able to converse with those catatonic in misery. And that’s a challenge I care to take on.

I’ll keep you posted. Without divulging confidentiality. But let this be a window into a part of the world you only guess at. I’m here to tell you it is real. And real people struggle with these problems. This is reality. Not a show. No sponsors needed.

May 7, 2014