The Epidemic is THAT Bad?

Aug 31, 2017, 1:00 PM

Today is International Overdose Awareness Day. A few years back this day would have passed by unnoticed by me. It was not in my reality. I did not think I knew anyone at risk of a drug overdose. Those people were the horrible street addicts. Those people had no face and no name. They were all losers who just needed to get a job and grow up. Ouch. I stand corrected and deeply humbled to be a part of this growing epidemic.

I was wrong but I didn't know just how wrong until my son Sam, my own flesh and blood, overdosed on heroin 154 days ago. Today, he has 153 days of sobriety. Such a huge amount of time. Such a small amount of time. I have noticed that I have started to relax a little now that he has some clean time. I have done this in the past but this time I notice that the short periods of relaxation are separated by the harsh reality of the grip of heroin addiction. As time goes on, I suspect that I will get more and more comfortable for longer periods of time but there is no going back to normal now.

It is an ugly and beautiful experience. The beauty I refer to is that the bond Sam and I share is extraordinary and I cherish it. I don't know what our relationship would be if he wasn't an addict but in our real world we speak our own language. The innocence in Sam's life is over and I don't pretend it isn't. I speak to him as who he is, not as the son who is on a "regular" path right now (whatever your definition of regular is, chances are it doesn't include heroin addiction). This is his life and his journey and I am honored to be a part of it.

There is no going back for me either. I have a cool life with four amazing kids, a beautiful daughter in law, and the BEST dog ever. (As well as two cats that I lovingly tolerate because if I don't add that I will hear about it.) I love what I do and where I live and I have great friends. Everything is pretty darn good except for the elephant in the room. I believe we all have an elephant in the room, some are just more obvious and destructive than others. The elephant in my room is very large and invasive.

I am the mom of a heroin addict who almost died from the drug. If it weren't for two amazing Samaritans who called 911 my story would look much different. It would sadly look like so many horrific stories I have read. People burying their sons and daughters, husbands and wives, and even parents. All lost to overdoses. There are way too many of those stories out there and the numbers are tragically increasing at an alarming rate.

Sam had been in treatment for 2 1/2 years but I suspect it was the night of his overdose that the severity of his addiction finally actually completely hit me. Blew me up like a bomb in fact. Over the years his addiction had gotten progressively worse despite fantastic treatment programs and incredible friends and support. I remained optimistic, at least deep down, because I was always convinced that something would click with him. It had to. This can absolutely NOT be happening to me or my family simply because I cannot bare it. Period. Some things are too painful to accept. Unfortunately, control is an illusion and sometimes we HAVE to walk through it, whatever "it" happens to be.We can choose to walk through it with our eyes open or closed.

Before Sam overdosed, I simply had not been willing to accept that I literally had no control over Sam or his addiction. As I sat by his hospital bed along side his dad, I finally realized that even though I would give my life for my son, I could not force him to recover. Our world became much darker as we came to grips of the gravity of our situation.

We came way too close to losing him that night. We realized that we were in too deep. It felt like we had been standing in the cement pit for two and a half years, thinking we were making progress, and then suddenly realizing the cement had solidified around us. What a nauseating and exasperating feeling that was.

To date, it was the worst night of my life. I remember taking a short break in the middle of the night to go my sister's and take a shower. It was there that I lost it. I just sobbed and sobbed. My whole soul ached and I felt so powerless.

There is no back-up and do-over with heroin. It is like a toxic gas that permeates all who use it and all who love those who use it. Once you are in you are in. The longer you stay the worse it gets. If you find a long term casual heroin user you have discovered a genetic freak. Good luck with that.

On this International Overdose Awareness Day I hope that my experience has opened at least one set of eyes. Each and every addict is part of a much larger system. A family. Even if you don't understand the addict, seek to understand the family. It is easy to judge and turn away. If you felt the pain of being the mom of an addict, you would certainly think "Well, shit, this sucks." If you saw what the siblings go through, you wouldn't wish it on your children for anything. You wouldn't allow it. Imagine you had to allow it because you didn't have a choice.

Every time I post about Sam, I am filled with gratitude for so many things. For his second chance at life. For my friends and family who have been so supportive. For my yoga community who have walked this journey with me so closely. For my dog. I have to acknowledge my dog. Any dog owner who reads this knows the love and comfort of a dog. Best expensive thing I couldn't afford that I ever purchased.

I am continuously reminded of my dear friend Cindy's words "Where there is life, there is hope". Thank you for reading, thank you for your support. Love you.#nomoreshame