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Thursday, April 14, 2016

Addiction:Addiction from a Mom's Viewpoint

The word addiction by itself can change the world in a single moment. I know first hand on that summer day when I found out my son was a heroin addict. My beautiful world of sunshine and rainbows came to a crash halt. The earlier denials which turned out to be lies should have clued me in. Now I look back and I figuratively hit myself for being so blind. Why didn't I stop it? I'm sure I am not the first parent to have these questions in my mind night and day. If only I would have been stricter, been more aggressive on my questions, treated him with no respect. And that is when I stop it. I didn't treat him like a baby, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I didn't ask him to roll up his sleeves instead I took his word. Little did I know he was lying. And that is what a heroin addict does. He lies. She lies. The lies start right away, we don't notice. I am not sure they notice. But eventually the lies take over much like heroin. It's the big lie. Heroin tells them "I will take you away from all this bullshit, and I will show you the way to a beautiful life where pain is no longer." That is the big fat lie. And the first time it must seem like it is nirvana. And each subsequent time I've read. But little by little, the drug takes more and more of the user and the user gets less and less of nirvana. Sounds like shit to me. It sounds like the biggest rip off ever. My son said his life was better when he was using. He said he had it all. He thought he had it all. The trouble was he couldn't keep it all. Heroin plays a big game. At first you can have it all, remember the nirvana moment? But with each draw the user gives Heroin what it wants drop by drop until it finally takes over. I must admit that first time must be amazing, but I've never been desparate enough to escape my life. When I was a kid, intravenous drug users were someplace far away, alley ways in New York city or the streets of Los Angelos. The rich and the famous and the fallen rock starts were the only people I had known who were addicted to heroin. It was not a drug that made its way into the high schools of the midwest. And now thirty some years later its in our high schools, its on our streets, and the dealers are deliverying right to my son's apartment. The drug dealers will even give you a couple of balloons extra for buying more. Or hey, if you are quitting here's some to remember me by. Really. Thanks drug dealer for giving my son a freebie when he is quitting. I'm not cool enough to street talk and at moment's this could sound like a mother rambling. It is. Guilty. Addiction is a family matter, everyone gets to play. How did I contribute? How do I change the game plan midway through? I have so many questions and I've called treatment centers and the one thing I've figured out is there is no one answer to solve this. In fact, the solution is not really the correct term. Addiction is a disease, and that disease is in my son's body. He must work on the disease and how it has taken over his well-being. And I will stand by and continue to pray for his recovery to become the son he used to be. But even that doesn't even seem clear to me anymore because I'm not sure who he was.

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