It's a Family Disease

Feb 10, 2018, 6:17 PM

I cannot shake this heroin nightmare no matter what I do. There is no going back, there is no waking up, it is my life. I want to ask my son "Can I grieve the sudden death of my dear friend for a few more days before you stick a fucking needle in your arm again?" I already know the answer to that. No.

I was at a restaurant Thursday night when the calls starting coming in. First from Sam's old girlfriend, he was back on the streets again high. Then from Sam, I told him to Uber back to my patio and I would meet him there. Then from the girlfriend again, and then from her dad who was driving him home to my patio (which I am so grateful for). My intention was to get home and throw a few blankets outside and tell him he can sleep there until morning and then get the hell out.

I am a huge colossal failure. It was too cold, he was too high. I could not do it. Believe me, it is so much harder than it sounds, especially in sub-freezing temperatures and with a kind and soft soul like Sam. He has never even raised his voice to me. I suspect kicking a belligerent kid out might be easier but still pretty bad.

So, I fed him and he went to bed. And then I collapsed and lost it. I started dialing sisters, the second one heard her phone ring at 2am and stayed up to talk to me. Forever grateful for that conversation. Never underestimate the power of human connection. I just wish my son didn't work so hard to avoid it.

Now Sam's dad is the strong one. He wasn't happy with me for dropping Sam off at his house when I went to teach last night. I completely understand but it is cold and snowing so I decided to let him not be happy. He loves Sam every bit as much as I do but we made a deal and I broke it. I only thought I was the strong one. He did not even allow Sam to go into his own room while he was back at his house, a fantastic idea. Once again, Sam stayed here last night. He got up this morning and applied at a sober living house (thank you Lisa), according to plan. What we have tried is not working, time to move on.

Sam was in horrible shape when he got here Thursday night. He has lost his job, his girlfriend, and his will. He is very skinny. How does he get so skinny so fast? I don't understand. Or have I just not noticed? Baggy clothes? It is hard for him to recognize that heroin, the thing he seeks to feel better, is the thing that has cost him everything. It is the thing that will kill him if he doesn't stop.

They say addiction is a family disease. They are right. I am posting the note that Sam's little sister left on his pillow Thursday night. This is the voice of a 13 year old child who so desperately loves her big brother that she is trying to be the cheerleader to keep him alive. The beauty in the note is that right now they are together, baking a cake.

Grateful always that my son is still alive. He has another chance to choose life. I also believe that perhaps right now there is a new free soul in the universe looking over him as well. Hold your loved ones tight. Life is so short.

Where there is life, there is hope. Love you. #nomoreshame