Unless this mother wants to lose everything she owns and risk dealing with drug related violence, she should toss the 23 year old out NOW.
He is not a child. He is leading her down a path that will lead only to ruin. She has to stop it NOW. It’s only going to get worse.
Run. Run while you still have legs. If you feel a compulsion to fix the situation, invite the 20 year old son to come live with you. He’s the only likely survivor of this story and you need to triage right now.
I’m so, so sorry but there’s nothing you can do about Mom or the 23 year old until they decide to change.
About eight years ago, a close friend took me up on my offer to provide shelter while he was drying out. It took him about two years of calling me in the middle of a drunken bender, crying on the phone half way across the country to finally work up his nerve to drive 1,500 miles and arrive on my doorstep. Every phone call I got over the two years, I just knew would be the one to tell me that his depression and alcoholism had spiraled out of control and he’d committed suicide, but finally he called me to say he was on his way.
He knew the rules before he left on his way–No (illegal) drugs, and no alcohol. He finished off his bottle of alcohol a few minutes before he got off the turnpike, about 10 minutes from my home, and was buzzed when he arrived on my doorstep.
I gave him a week to settle in, and one evening he came to me, crying. He’d broken down and bought a six pack, drinking them in his car before he came back to the house. I expected this and was surprised it had taken a week. I calmly reminded him of the rules, as well as the consequences to not following them. Lots of crying and drama ensued (to make a long story a bit shorter), and as he was loading up his car (in the midst of tears and feeling, what I’m sure, was overhelming hopelessness), I stopped him and sat him down.
“Is this what you want?” I asked him. “Do you want to live in your car?”
He admitted he didn’t.
“Then what do you want?” It didn’t take him very long at all to say he wanted to stop drinking and get his life together.
“I’m willing to support your decision to dry out, but YOU have to do it.” I told him. I went on to explain that he had 48 hours to begin some type of treatment, and provided him with the information of where to being. I also clarified that this was his last chance, and that if he drank again, he was out.
The following day he contacted a local drug treatment program. They got him in right away and he began outpatient treatment. He began meds for his depression and went to counseling for his alcoholism and depression.
Fast forward eight years…he went back to college and got his Master’s degree. He met a very nice woman there and they married (I was his best “man” at the wedding). He now owns his own business and he and his wife just recently bought a house together. His wife is good for him–on the off chance that he doesn’t ‘catch’ the beginning of his depression symptoms returning, she does, and he gets back on his meds as needed. As far as I know, he hasn’t started drinking again in the past eight years.
He says that I saved his life, but I don’t think so. I just gave him a roof over his head and a kick in the ass when he needed both. He knows I would not have hesitated to tell him to leave if he’d picked up another bottle, and as much as it would have hurt, I would have done it.
There’s nothing wrong with offering shelter and support to some one who is in recovery. (Recovery being the key word there.) But, that shelter needs to accompany a swift kick in the ass when it’s needed. Sheltering an addict is only feeding their addiction.
My former Big Boss had a nephew who was a hardcore cocaine addict. He also had a sister (cokehead’s aunt) who could not live alone and was willing to be the world’s best enabler in exchange for having cokehead live with her.
This guy stole from everyone. He stole the office TV and microwave. He got hold of an employee’s bank card and PIN and took $800 out of her account. He got arrested for drugs and went to prison for six months, during which time his mother died. When he got out, he stole some of his aunt’s checks. He went to a party at his cousin’s houses and four people called the day after missing their wallets.
When he was arrested for a second time, he went to prison for two years. His enabling aunt said “So he did drugs. What’s wrong with that. People do drugs all the time.” My jaw just dropped. She died while he was in prison, and nobody would take him in when he got out.
I don’t know what happened to him.