Sins of Heroin

Jan 8, 2018, 11:42 PM

When Sam started cranking out pull ups at his dad's the other night, the first question I asked was "Are you on Meth"? (People on heroin don't do pull ups, they are too busy looking for heroin.) There is something really perverse about thinking like that. I think my family is really strange. I wouldn't even want to be a fly on our wall. I think we were weird before heroin but this has really compounded the issue. I know there are so many families who can relate to just a few ways heroin has affected us in the past 3 years.

The birthday I found out Sam was using heroin, as well as the birthday I spent in the psych ward (with him) after his overdose.

The night and day his dad and I spent roaming the streets of Denver trying to connect with other heroin addicts in order to find him.

The time I found out he sold the necklace I had gotten him as a gift from his inpatient stay in Arizona. He sold it for heroin.

The fact that he not only stole prescription medication from me, but his own grandfather.

The night before his first trip to rehab in Minnesota. I slept on the couch so he couldn't sneak out. He crawled out his window and stole cough medicine at the grocery store.

There are so many more. The problem with Sam right now is that he forgets all the above so easily. He is sober but he is complacent as hell. It is very hard for me to watch. He doesn't really go to meetings, he barely calls his sponsor and he isn't working on his GED. He works and when he isn't working, he stays at his dads, on this computer, for hours on end. He may even be doing great things on there but he is largely shutting himself off from human connections. He doesn't show passion, drive, or enthusiasm towards growing up and progressing forward.

I shared my concerns with Sam last night. He insisted he has no desire to use heroin. He seems to think that somehow that makes him safe. He is such an idiot sometimes. He knows he is playing with fire. I emphatically reminded him of all the other times he has had no desire to use. To date, it has never lasted. I asked him to think of one heroin addict who really didn't give a shit maintain long term sobriety. He couldn't. Neither could I.

Try as I might, I can only come up three types of heroin addicts. : Those who didn't care and died. Those who cared enough to work a very strong sobriety program and to date are still alive. And, last but not least, the scariest kind. Those who fought like hell, worked a strong program with the best of intentions, had a set back (often just one), and died anyway. Recovering heroin addicts who are riding the suboxone/methadone wave are sitting ducks. Sam did admit that while he doesn't want to hear my concerns, they are valid. A hell of a lot of good that does.

As I have privately shared with some friends and family over the past couple of months, Suboxone is keeping my kid alive right now. I have heard some say it is worse than heroin itself to quit. I need to focus just on the fact that to date, my kid still has fighting chance, if he chooses to start that fight.

Sometimes, this whole thing really gets to me. The past couple of days have been that way. Smile, laugh, cry, and carry on. No other option.

My hope is always that Sam starts to awaken to the gift of life before it is too late. Thank you for reading. Where there is life, there is hope, Love you. #nomoreshame