Sorry for the length of this… Today without a doubt has been the hardest day of my life. Last night we found out that once again our youngest (18-year-old) son had stolen from us and was now even dealing drugs. Monetary losses are an issue but the more important things were what he took, two family heirlooms’ that are not replaceable, $1000.00 in cash and one of my handguns all which had been locked up in a safe in my bedroom. We were able to get the handgun back last night (he was still in possession of it) thank God and found out where the jewelry was pawned so we will be able to recover them. Adding salt to the injury we then found out that he had created an Uber account using one of my debit cards and over the last 3 months had almost $800.00 in charges essentially using them as his personal chauffeurs (he still does not have a driver’s license we would not allow it). So let me give you some background: When he was 11 years old he was diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic it was found (thank God) during his football (Pee Wee) physical exam. Since that time, he had told us he felt like a freak and getting him to do his blood sugars and take his insulin properly has been an uphill battle. He has been to so many counselors I can’t remember them all, he blew them all off as easy as putting on his socks. We think this is when his drug use started (mainly Marijuana but at a very high usage), he lies so easily that I’m still astonished at myself wanting to believe what he is telling me, when I know damn well it’s a lie. Last November he was caught by deputies driving his mom’s car at 3 AM doing 75 mph in a 45 that was a trip to see the judge and cost us a pretty dime. Later that month he was kicked out of high school a week or so later we found out that he had been stealing from us and was heavily addicted to marijuana, at the time he was still 17. We recovered what we could from the pawn shops it cost us about $2.000 because we didn’t want to charge him with a crime. We started looking for rehab facilities while he was in detox, many facilities won’t take a minor that is a type 1 diabetic, we finally found one and after 4 days of searching praying and pleading he was placed in residential rehab for 30 days. While he was in rehab 300 miles away, we never let him feel he was alone. We visited as often as they would allow, had phone calls, we came down for every therapy session they wanted us in and never missed one. At the rehab center he was known as their “Angel” never gave them any problems he always followed the rules and for once he finally had a counselor that he connected with. He came back on Christmas Eve and we were so happy for the gift of having him home for Christmas. Once he got home, the first 30 days all seemed better he was at home most of the time was not hanging out with the old crowd and was going to his therapy sessions and passing his drug screenings every week. After about another 30 days he got a job working at a Dunking Donuts and we were ecstatic. A week later he said that his schedule at work was conflicting with his counseling sessions (or so he said) and he asked if could cut it down to once a month, us thinking all was well, we agreed. A week later we found out that on the day he asked us, that he had been fired (still don’t know why). After viewing the messages on his phone found out that one of the store’s assistant managers was dealing drugs on the side. We then found out that he had been stealing from us again and that he was back to using Marijuana. Once this was exposed he ran away from home fearful that we were going to send him away again, we finally found him at one of his drug buddies houses after 10 days of hell. Then tried counseling again. Since then it has been hell has now since he turned 18 gotten even worse. He refuses to do anything at home, refuses to find a job, won’t keep his room clean and leaves his needles and diabetic supplies where the little ones can get to it. So about 3 weeks ago I gave him an ultimatum either he found full time work within 30 days or I was going to kick him out of the house and he knew I meant it, he knew I had had enough. The surprising thing is that he has 4 older siblings 2 that are handicapped and none of them ever gave us this much trouble in fact they all work and are productive. Two Sundays ago he came into our bedroom about 1:30 AM and informed us that he had been robbed at gun point, me being the parent I am made sure he was okay and then called the Sheriff’s office and files a report while the deputies that responded were taking his statement I was able to locate his phone via GPS which the perpetrator had also taken. They caught him and he is now being charged with Armed robbery, my son was supposed to go to a deposition at the State Attorney’s office today and he never made it. My wife and I today decided together that it was time for filing a request for an Ex-Partee order from the courts and formally charged him for stealing from us and both have been completed. So today as our son came home after being out all night not wanting to face us for his actions and started packing is medications and things, I asked him if the night he got robbed was a drug deal gone bad, the answer was yes it was a drug deal gone bad. In the 10 minutes he was home (us waiting for deputies to arrive) not once did he apologize or show remorse for his actions, just gave excuses like owed bad people money and needed it as front money (stake) for drug dealing and kept saying I have to go. Unfortunately, the deputies never arrived. I now pray that when they do find him that he is not armed and that he doesn’t try to flee from them, making a bad situation worse. To this moment I’ve only spoken of him however right now it’s me and my wife I’m concerned with. I feel guilty for filing those charges and I think my wife does too. But I know we had to, once he took my handgun he crossed a line that could not be uncrossed. I have to think of all of our other family members that live in this house and everyone else outside of it. So, if I’m doing the right thing, why do I feel like crap. I feel like I’m the one who committed the crimes. Maybe I wasn’t a good enough father, maybe if I had provided a better example for him. I know it’s not true but non the less I still feel that way, like it’s all my fault. AND I STILL WANT TO KNOW DID WE DO THE RIGHT THING?