Drug Addiction Stories

I remember the day we got the call.  There had been an explosion.  A couple of my brother’s buddies were killed.  My brother got a couple of pretty serious wounds, including a head injury.  He was being sent to Germany and then home.  We were scared to death but grateful he was alive.

We went to visit him at the hospital.  Thankfully it was summertime and I was out of school. I would be starting my senior year soon.  We stayed at the hospitality house for families.  After about six weeks, they let my brother come home.

He wanted to stay in the Army but his wounds and the head injury made it impossible.  He had never planned on anything except being a soldier and I could tell he felt lost.  He was really irritable at times.  I knew he had been through a lot and that the head injury could also make him feel that way.  However, I started suspecting he was over-doing his prescriptions; even my mom noticed it.

I have always been interested in the medical field.  I plan to be a doctor some day.  I began doing some research and it confirmed my suspicions.  My brother was becoming a prescription drug addict.  Maybe some of his irritability was from the head injury but not all of it.

My mom and I discussed it, and she too realized he was getting addicted.  We called a helpline and they advised us to set up an intervention.  We were going to have it the next day but my mom jumped the gun a little that morning.  My brother had taken the rest of his prescription and was trying to get on the computer to see if he could get some more prescribed.

My mom told him not to throw his life away; that he had survived and there was a good reason for it.  He went into a rage and flew up from the computer and hit her.  It took everything I had as I got between them not to hit him for that but I did not want to make matters worse.  I drew him aside and told him to never touch her again.  I told him I loved him and I wanted my big brother back, not this person I saw before me.

We stood there eye to eye just as the doorbell rang.  I told him it was someone who was going to get help for him and that we were all in this together.  We were family.  He quietly nodded okay and I helped him to the living room where the intervention counsellor sat with our mother.

When I came home from Iraq, I did not know what to do.  I was on some pretty heavy pain relievers for my injuries.  I came home to a mom and a younger brother who wanted to do anything they could for me.  It looked like I would be getting a medical discharge.  I hoped not as  I wanted to make a career out of the Army.

I got depressed when the medical discharge came through.  I wanted to fight it, but the doctors said they would not sign off on returning me to active duty.  I began taking the pain relievers more than I should, but they were helping me to forget, at least for a little while until they wore off again.

My mom catered to me.  She tried to make me comfortable and do things for me but I just yelled at her to leave me alone.  She tried to approach me about the prescription medication I was taking when she figured out I was taking too much.  I told her to mind her own business.  I had never talked to my mom like that as a kid and I know she was confused and hurt, but I was too busy trying to figure out how to keep the medication coming and feeling sorry for myself.

Most of my wounds healed, but the memories didn’t.  I found myself feeling more and more sorry for myself and thinking everything was all about me.  Every time my mom tried to get me to do something I would just tell her to leave me alone.  One day she told me I needed to get on with my life because I had survived for a reason.  Then I did the unthinkable.  I hit my mom.  I did not intend to and I never would have thought it was possible, but I just wanted to be left alone in my medication-endorsed misery.

My younger brother jumped up and got between us.  He had gotten taller than me over the last year or so.  He looked me in the eye and said “I love you, but you will never touch our mom again, do you understand me?  You will get help today or you will leave.  Now be the man I know you are and let’s get you some help.  I want my brother back.”

As our roles reversed that day, I found a new hero. My brother saved my life, my self-respect and my relationship with both him and our mom.