It sounds like you are a great model for what a sane adult looks like, and that you would leap tall buildings for your son. Having him live with you and start with a fresh slate might be a good move.
The white-knuckle stage of parenting starts when teens begin establishing autonomy. Some kids – often the smart and creative ones as well as the abused and neglected ones – break away with a vengeance. My intelligent and creative daughter did this in her turn, and I'm happy to report that only a few years later, we were again excellent friends. All I could really do during those few years was to let her know I was there for her no matter what, that I trusted her goodness (and the early training I had given her), and kept reminding her that she would understand life differently as an adult.
I kept gently and respectfully inquiring into her hopes, wishes, fears, expectations, influences…, not for the purpose of prying and controlling, but rather to keep in touch with the person she was becoming during her metamorphosis. I only drew a hard line when she wanted to move out with a friend. If I had tried to control every aspect of her behavior, she would almost certainly have bolted, and I could have lost my chance to model adulthood.
I'll bet many of us mamas can recall our teen years (a long time ago for me, but still vivid), when the world we were expected to fit into was so grievously flawed, and "success" was defined in terms that made little sense to our young hearts and minds. It's got to be more complicated for kids today to face the world than when I was a teen.
We know what WE want for our kids. And the simple fact of it is, we can't know for sure what our childrens' paths must be, what experiences will teach them the life lessons they need to learn. When I broke away from an excessively controlling mother, I experimented with substances and all the experiences and freedoms I had been denied as a child. This included marrying an excessively controlling man. I made a lot of big mistakes because I had never had the chance to make smaller ones as I grew up.
Looking back from the age of 60, I can honestly say that for all the joy and anguish all of this brought me, it was what I needed to do. I'm a wiser and more compassionate person for having taken my journey. I often wonder how I might be different if my life had been more conventional. Maybe the same, but I doubt it.
You'll need to take lots of deep, prayerful breaths for the next few years, mama. It's part of the job. Love your child, do what you can for him, respect him, and pry your white knuckles open into a cupped hand. Yes, something terrible could happen to him. Or something wonderful. Or lots of both. His life will be his life - that's part of the contract we agree to when we bring a baby into the world.
My best to you.