When Libby Cataldi noticed her oldest son frequently tromping around with untied shoelaces, she thought he was trying to fit in with his skateboarder friends.

She never guessed that it was because he was shooting heroin into his feet, causing them to swell.

In her new book, "Stay Close: A Mother's Story of Her Son's Addiction" (St. Martin's Press, $24.95), the 58-year-old native of Kennedychronicles her struggle with her son's addiction and the process that eventually helped her support him without enabling his addiction.

It started when her son Jeff Bratton, now 29, was caught smoking behind his school. He was in fifth grade.

At that time Ms. Cataldi was the head of the private academy he was attending -- the Calverton School in Huntingtown, Md.

"One thing I've learned is that addiction does not discriminate," Ms. Cataldi said in a phone interview last week. "Here I am, a doctor in education, I've dedicated my whole life to kids, my kids were raised in the Catholic Church -- and my kid has an addiction."

Jeff's addictions began with marijuana and alcohol but later expanded to methamphetamine, ketamine and his "drug of choice," heroin. He was arrested several times on drug-related charges. He also delivered drugs while working as a bike messenger, according to the book.

The drugs slowly tore the family apart. Jeff's younger brother Jeremy, now 27, eventually stopped talking to him after a verbally abusive fight. It also led to a divorce between Ms. Cataldi and her husband, Tim Bratton.

"The bigger the addiction got, the more Tim tried to guard himself, and I can't blame him really," she said. "For a long time I wanted to, but I can't."

A master deceiver, or "chameleon," as Ms. Cataldi called him, Jeff was able to hide his addictions while excelling at Boston University and advancing in multiple jobs. When his mom asked him why he was nodding off in the middle of conversations (a side-effect of heroin), he told her he was working too much.

"Addicts lie, betray and manipulate," she said. "It is in their nature because they have to protect their addiction."

Overwhelmed by a multitude of problems that included breast cancer, her father's death and Jeff's hospitalization because of the drug abuse, Ms. Cataldi decided to take refuge in Florence, Italy, for a few months. It was there that she learned a new way of thinking.

While she contemplated disowning her son aloud to a friend, an old alcoholic approached her with some advice: "stagli vicino," or "stay close" in Italian.

"He said stay close, even when he seems unlovable. Stay close, but don't help."

That way, when Jeff was ready to come back to his family and deal with his addiction, they would be waiting.

But denying help to a person she loved was not easy.

She tried not to think about Jeff using his car to pick up drugs as she made payments on it, and she paid his cell phone bill because she wanted him to call her, but she deliberately turned off the radar when she sensed he might be using the phone to rendezvous with dealers.

"I never let Jeffrey feel the consequences because I always jumped in to help," she said. "Finally I said, 'I love you, but I won't help you.' "

Now, Jeff has been clean for nearly three years and is on his 12th step to recovery. He lives in Los Angeles and works for a public relations firm.

As part of his 12th step, he's carrying the message of healing and hope to other addicts. His mom's book is the vehicle.

The book not only has helped Jeff but also has been a source of healing for Ms. Cataldi and Jeremy. She said both sons were extremely cooperative in helping her compile the book. Neither son could be reached for comment.

One of the hardest things about writing the book, Ms. Cataldi said, was accurately recounting the past. As she was writing the sentence "Jeff has been clean for two years," in her journal, he was shooting heroin into his neck.

So she worked with her sons to fill in the gaps.

"You can only find your solution through rigorous honesty, and finally, through the writing, me and my kids became rigorously honest."

Since publishing the book, she has spoken to many people with similar experiences. A friend of 25 years called her and acknowledged that she was an alcoholic, and another friend contacted her to tell her his daughter had died of an overdose -- something he had never told anyone.

In her sharing, they found healing.

"There's a lot of people that have suffered as we've suffered, but they suffer in silence," she said.

She said the response -- which has included numerous talk shows and interviews -- has been gratifying but exhausting.

"It's been exhilarating because I've found people have been receptive. They're saying, 'Hey, that's something we should care about,' but I still want to protect my sons. And I would be a liar if I said I didn't want to protect myself."

And even after all the healing and reconciliation, her journey to try to understand Jeff is far from over.

"In one of those really bad 'mom moments' after I wrote the book, I looked at Jeff and said, 'Look at all the pain you have caused,' and he said, 'Momma, you've written a whole book and you still don't understand.' "