Turning the Tables: Can a Parent Go “No Contact” with an Adult Child?

There’s a lot in the news lately about kids going “no contact” with their parents.

Celebrities like Brooklyn Beckham, Meghan Markle, and Keanu Reeves have their reasons I’m sure. And the world sees is as brave, it seems.

According to Psychology Today, Oprah Winfrey discussed the trend on a recent podcast and “congratulated people for being able to prioritize their well-being over continuing to engage in obligatory relationships. She was impressed with how far we have come in our culture in order to put ourselves first.” 

Great. But you seldom, if ever, hear of parents doing this to their own adult kids. When can “no contact” work the other way?

I know, it goes against the grain.

So - for our own mental health, we might choose to just go “no contact” with our parents or other family members we deem toxic. 

Sure. I, myself, fled to Los Angeles from the East coast to get away from family influence when I was in my 20’s. But I talked to my family every Sunday - and also learned that being far away geographically does nothing to distance you from the issues that sparked the move. 

That work, I had to do after I returned back East. It wasn’t easy, but it’s how I grew, and learned to be healthfully assertive.

Still, okay. I get it. I don’t like to be around toxic energy either, and now practice boundary-setting, big time. Even with my elementary-school-aged grandkids, whom I adore with all my heart, I sometimes tell them: Grammy needs a time out. And I take it. 

That isn’t no contact. That is boundary-setting. Different.

But - what if a parent does go no contact with their adult child? I'm not seeing much about that in the news. Why? Because that, my friends, is seen as abandonment. As cruelty. As giving up. Because while our kids can choose to give up on us, we are not supposed to ever give up on them.Are we parents supposed to be Shel Silverstein's Giving Tree and just keep giving up more and more of our own essence so that the child can thrive, leaving nothing but a stump behind?

And what if we have other children who need us, and the “troubled” kid is sapping all our energy?
I’d like to see Oprah talk about that.

My son is 43. He has schizophrenia, and his life has been a wild ride of ups and downs. And, as a recent guest on one of my podcasts (Schizophrenia: Three Moms in the Trenches) told me, “mothers are the number one support for most adults with serious mental illness (SMI). Mothers are also, if treatment stops or substance abuse interferes, the number one victim of those who turn to violence.”

I can’t see my son ever doing that. But - I also know that at this point in time  he is choosing substances over sanity. And right now I am just, well, done.

Before you judge - we have been in his corner and saved his bacon countless times: enrolled him in programs, visited him in hospital and in jail, housed him for years - including money management and medication supervision. I’ve picked up his possessions from the police station, gotten him out of scrapes, arranged for Social Security disability, collected character references so he could have charges dropped, chauffeured him, gotten him out of financial disaster…the list goes on and on.

Saying no when you must…and it hurts.

As it goes for so many whose adult children are addicts and/or have SMI. 

But now. I just can’t. He has chosen to move out of a sober home and rent a room so he can have the freedom to abuse substances. I text him, but can’t be with him. I tell him I love him and wish him well, but he won’t be at Sunday dinner again anytime soon.

He is not my only child. And, as any family member of an addict knows - there is only so much we can do.

Which often, is nothing. Except make sure we have enough love and energy left to give to others - and to ourselves.

If my help could fix my son, I’d jump at the chance. 

But it is his life.

And, right now, it’s my choice to not be in it very much. 

No, I don’t want to take you to lunch. I’m not driving over to help you move. I am not comfortable around you when you are high - especially as it interferes with your meds. 

No, you can’t be around your nieces and nephew. They adore you, and I want to keep it that way. If you are stoned, you are not with your family.

No, I will not bail you out of jail if the poor judgment that comes with cannabis use lands you there.

But yes. I will always love you. You are my son. This breaks my heart, and my only refuge is compartmentalization.

For now. I choose no contact. I hope that can change. But that is not in my control.