His pothead friends came over again today. Then they all disappeared. I found 24 neatly stacked cigarette wrappers on the porch table, and lots of butts and ashes. Then I spotted his backpack ... so I went through it. Found a bunch of weed in his eyeglasses case. I can't handle this any more. It's my house. (by the way, why is he collecting cig papers? Does he mail them in and get a wall poster?) Plus, the psychiatrist said he'd quit treating Difficult Child if he continued pot use. 1) it conflicts with-Concerta and Difficult Child goes on it, then off of it, which is really hard for all of us; and 2) if something bad happens to Difficult Child, it messes with the dr's liability. I don't blame him. husband is out of town at a conference and should be home around 8 p.m. I took things into my own hands, literally--put everything in a bag and hid it. Locked all the doors. Made myself a sandwich and waited. Saw Difficult Child's friends through the porch windows and heard the dogs bark. (Screened-in porch where Difficult Child smokes ... cigarettes.) Difficult Child noticed that the doors were locked and sat with his friends. I went out and confronted him and them. Told him that I didn't trust his choice of friends or activities, they might be fine people but they had to leave. Now. That I found pot, and difficult child cannot use and also have scrips and a dr, and a combo could kill him. "And it's on you," I added, pointing to his "friends" and him. Because I've told all of his friends all of that before. (by the way, they were the two who were sleeping on the couch the other day.) I told Difficult Child that I would give him his medications for tonight. He would have 12 hrs to come home from where ever he stays tonight, and tell me his decision on whether I call the police or he goes to rehab. Difficult Child said he understood. By the time I returned to the porch (I locked it behind me, and deliberately locked myself out to make sure they couldn't get in while I was talking, but of course I had keys) they two kids were gone. Difficult Child took his medications. I turned and walked away and said I'd see him at 6.15 a.m. Not sure if he'll show up then but I'll be waiting, along with husband. Meanwhile, I texted ex-girlfriend's mom (bad timing, since they came home today with the baby), emailed his therapist, and Googled treatment centers. Problem is, he isn't attacking people and isn't suicidal. But he does meet the criteria of not being able to work or attend school, and it does affect his relationships. A hospital or rehab stay would shake him up, and get him intensive therapy. Now ... for the waiting.