i'm new to this community... and i know this isn't a traditional "question' but i found this forum by accident and read just a few posts from mommies who have sons or daughters with my problem. and i can't stop bawling.
To all of you beautiful, beautiful women who raised us and treated us so well through our childhood only to have us throw it away on something that was derived from the Poppy flower:
we love you soooo much. the hurt that you feel because of us makes us want to die. why can't we stop hurting you? you are the most important person in my life! you gave me everything. you gave me EVERYTHING and i can't stop putting everything into my mouth or lungs or arms. i miss you so much i miss the BEFORE years when you and me and Joe and dad would watch cartoons on Saturday morning and eat breakfast and be lazy and sit in the warm house while it rained outside!!!
i just want you mommies to know how sorry we are. how many junkies are there at any given moment saying how goddamn sorry they are? is there any way to find humor in this blackest of tragedies? because if there is, it's almost funny... how sorry we ALWAYS are and we sometimes mean it. but we'll be sorry again. and again. I am only 23 years old. I have never used anything intravenously. i was offered codeine by an older friend when i was 15. graduated to vicodin, then started ******* STEALING DRUGS FROM A CRIPPLED WOMAN. percocet, the eldest of the demons. and then I missed the oxycontin step, although i've visited it since. and then, after graduating high school... (my SAT scores were THROUGH THE GODDAMN ROOF... a perfect score on the verbal portion) i met someone who told me a lie that i knew was a lie when he said it but believed it because of my demon friends. he told me that heroin is illegal but it is no worse than vicodin. we lived in a small town but took an hour long road trip that eventually became a road i knew so well...
we met a young hispanic gentleman and he introduced me to the Greater Devil, to whom i became a most gracious host. and then my liar friend got arrested for committing a felony. and i was in trouble for a non-heroin issue... i got caught stealing drugs from FAMILY FRIENDS (writing this is making me nauseous; i am utterly and completely disgusted with myself) and unfortunately (fortunately?) the one who caught me was not the family friend but an officer of the law, who for some reason to pity on me that night and chose not to charge me with a felony, only several class a misdemeanors. but i am sure someday i'll manage to undo his kindness and also manage to lose my right to vote.
anyhow, due to court mandated NA meetings, and my "friend's" arrest I soberly attended my first 12 step meeting on New Year's Eve of 2006. I attended about 40 meetings in 30 days. I had a sponsor, an amazing man named Jim with christlike gentleness and disarming wisdom. he took such good care of me. the Greater Devil and his companions left me for good! or so I thought. But in reality, they saw that they needed to let me go for 18 months (eighteen months without a drop of liquor or a pill or ANYTHING more than a poppy-seed bagel! I celebrated my 21st birthday with a coworker from Starbucks and her husband at the bar where he worked and I ordered a HAND CRUSHED LEMONADE! I became more and more certain of my indestructibility.) because 18 months was what they needed to prepare me for the torture chamber they were creating for me, for the kill room they were preparing (in my father's house there are many dwelling places)
stop. i didn't realize i was trying to write prose and symbolism that my mother could never understand, much less a stranger on the internet. i'm not crying any more. So my first legal drink didn't come until I was 21 1/2, but it came and I left the 12 steps and the meetings and even stopped talking to Jim. And in my rash, despicable foolishness I became quite sure what fools and hypocrites those people in the churches and the basements of banks and in the conference rooms of hospitals were. those monsters had brainwashed me, had used me! There was certainly no Higher Power than myself! I became my own higher power... for somewhere around 400 days I drank on occasion, and even "chipped" on occasion, taking Vicodin or Percocet... but I no longer stole it, simply took it if it was around. Ha! In my rash, despicable foolishness I realized how silly it had been, to fear these drugs like the plague. I wasn't just my higher power... I was the Highest Power. (no pun intended but actually quite funny)
In Guatemala I could buy these pain pills over the counter, and enjoyed them to excess as I spent the months near the equator and spent my days learning spanish, studying Derek Jensen, and taking pain pills. When I finally returned home to the states, I had myself a habit. But rx's were hard to come by... but heroin was not hard to come buy. The Greater Devil kissed me on the mouth as he seduced me into the kill room. And I've been here ever since. I am managing to write this, honestly and anonymously on the internet, but my day-to-day is not controlled by me. When I smile at a pretty girl on the street and she thinks oh-what-a-handsome-devil she doesn't know how right she was. If I hadn't been a fool and given up my Higher Power in exchange for the Greater Devil, I would pray to it begging that someone see the horns and the smoke and see me for what I am. Mom! Please help me because I am trapped! I am a prisoner inside of my own body! The Greater Devil is the one who was speaking on the phone last night and he was LYING THROUGH HIS FANGS!
but here is how you must help me: do not give the Devil his due. Do not give him money, and don't buy him food or pay his rent because that is money he will throw in the sea, the dark sea that is GOD-DAMNED heroin. Pay for his cell phone, but only so that YOU, mom get to look through the phone bill and see who he has called and make sure that you know FOR SURE that he is calling his SPONSOR and not his DEALER. make him take a DRUG TEST, and yes maybe let dad or Joe take care of this part but you need to be in the room with him as he urinates because the Greater Devil has access to every conceivable deception known to man or lucifer. if he needs it when he detoxes give him a valium but do not give him many. Perhaps you can help him with clean sheets as he vomits and ***** the bed. think of it as detoxing but also as some sort of exorcism... but an exorcism implies the demons are gone... i guess it could be an internal battle for control. Immodium will work wonders as will access to a space heater and frequent long, hot baths. Fluids. And then, maybe I can come back and be your loving son.
Suboxone (And no wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light. Therefore it is not surprising if his servants also disguise themselves as servants of righteousness; whose end shall be according to their deeds.) will work for some and for others (such as myself) it will prolong their illness indefinitely, by allowing them to use other illicit drugs every weekend without immediate consequences. -i am not a doctor, and taking suboxone, even if they're still using heroin occasionally, is probably better than daily heroin. but it does take so much longer to "hit bottom" if suboxone is involved, from my own experience.-
The only thing that has ever worked for me, I hate to say it, were the 12 Steps. Thank you abused mothers for telling us how much we're hurting you. Don't believe anything we say, but believe this- today I will go to a church or hospital to see if my Higher Power is still interested in me. Thanks Mom.