Drug Addiction Stories & Info

I wake up and the house is quiet.  I walk out to the kitchen and my wife is sitting there with my brother, two of our closest friends, and another man.  My wife walks up to me, puts her arm around me and tells me she loves me.  I ask her what everyone is doing there on a Saturday morning.  She tells me it is Monday morning and I have been on a drug addiction high for three days.  I look at my brother and he nods.

The man I do not know introduces himself as a professional counsellor.  My protest goes quiet as I see the tears in my wife’s eyes, along with the bruise that has almost healed from a week earlier on her arm.  I ask where the children are and my brother tells me his wife has them at their house.  They are only 3 and 5.

I have had a problem since I fell down a flight of stairs outside a friend’s apartment complex six months earlier.  The prescription I was given helped a little but I needed more until finally, through a neighbour down the street, I was able to get some harder stuff that I got addicted to.

I know it has been spiralling out of control.  I know my behavior and mood swings have been up and down like a roller coaster and that last week when my wife told me enough was enough and refused to give me the money to get another bag, I hit her and it was the last straw.  In truth, every morning I expected to wake up to an empty house.

The counsellor asked if I had any questions.  I said yes, and asked about the type of center it was, would anyone know, would our insurance cover it, how successful was it.  I told him I will beat this drug addiction.  He said I had a good attitude about it and certainly a good support system and he then went on to say that not only would I have one in the residential program but that my wife and brother would as well.

I hung my head then. I had really stretched the limits of what family should do yet here they were, ready to help, and stand beside me.  I will beat drug addiction, for my two little boys, my wife, my brother, and for myself.

My stepbrother committed suicide a few years ago.  He had a problem with drugs most of his adult life.  Many times we tried to get help for him but he stayed in denial.  It caused psychological problems for him as well and eventually, he took his own life.  Out of that tragedy, my nephew’s life was saved.

At the funeral, I hugged my nephew who I had not seen in just over a year.  I told him if he ever needed anything to call me, as my stepbrother was my brother without DNA.  A couple of weeks later, he did.  It was nearly 3 a.m. but I answered to hear my nephew say, “Aunt Teresa, can I please come over?  I keep thinking about Daddy and I am scared I may hurt myself.”

I told him yes.  I called a taxi to pick him up and paid for it when it arrived.  I hugged my nephew and poured him a cup of hot chocolate I had made for him while waiting.  He had always loved hot chocolate.

Tommy turned to me and said he felt so hurt over his daddy’s suicide that he thought about doing the same thing.  But he did not want to put his mom or his two brothers through another one.  He was desperate, hurting, on cocaine and did not know what to do.  Both of his parents had been on drugs his entire life.

I went to the phone and called a hotline.  I spoke to a wonderful counselor who also talked to Tommy.  I was confident that Tommy would be okay with me but the counselor thought we should make it over there anyway.  As I drove, I told Tommy some of the things his dad and I had done as teenagers.  He was actually laughing by the time we pulled up.

I still miss my brother.  I will always believe that, in some way we can not fathom, he helped Tommy and I connect again so that I could help my nephew.  Today Tommy is married and the proud father of a beautiful little girl.  He helps out at the same center that helped him that night long ago.  I have sort of adopted his little one as my granddaughter and Tommy still loves to hear stories about his dad’s antics as a teenager.  I think my stepbrother Alan would be proud of his son.  I know I certainly am proud of the young man who reached out and got help that night.  When his daughter is older, I can not wait to tell her just how special her daddy is.