Drug Addiction Stories & Info

So often we read about  sporting and other “star” performers who have had to deal with the problem of drug addiction.

For boxing champion George Chuvalo drug use has been a major issue not because Chuvalo used drugs, but because of drug addiction in his family.

 We see in George Chuvalo a strength beyond what it takes to be unbeaten among champions in the boxing arena, the strength and courage that it takes to remain unbeaten by life, and the tragedy of drug addiction in the family.

Of five children born to George Chuvalo and his wife Lynne, only the eldest Mitch, and daughter Vanessa would survive, three sons lost to drug addiction, that indirectly also claimed his wife.

 George Chuvalo today is remarried to Joanne, stepfather to two, a proud grandparent.

Strong in the face of adversity, George is very much a supporter of strong family values. Both he and his wife are staunch anti-drug campaigners.

Three of George Chuvalo’s sons became addicted to heroin, and of the three, in 1985, son Jesse committed suicide followed in 1993 by the heroin death of his brother George Lee, and the death of Steven by drug overdose in 1996.

George’s wife Lynne, in 1993 committed suicide only two days after the death of George Lee, overcome with grief at the loss of two sons to drug addiction.

At the time of George Lee’s death, Steven was then in prison, serving time for another theft and armed robbery. Chuvalo visited him in prison – Steven’s 35th birthday, telling him that he still loved him and had not given up hope.

Steven was inspired as a result to do better, to make himself well for his father, for the family. Where drugs and addiction is involved, love is not enough. Not long after his release from prison, Steven died from drug overdose.

Living as they did, in the tough working class suburbs of Toronto, drugs were easy come by and used by many. It would be easy to dismiss the three drug using sons as just another example of how young people so easily fall prey to the temptation of drug use.

However, there is a story behind the story of drug use in George Chuvalo’s family, that has relevance today, as people continue to be concerned about young people who become addicted to prescription drugs, and issues of responsibility.

Jesse, Chuvalo’s youngest son had a motorcycle accident and for a painful knee injury was prescribed Demoral for a week, followed by a prescription for a narcotic painkiller, to which Jesse unwittingly became addicted. The painkiller was Tylenol3.

Jesse discovered and started to use street heroin for the pain. He rapidly became addicted to heroin, as being a more potent form of painkiller. It was only nine months after the motor cycle accident, due to his pain and unwanted heroin addiction, that Jesse shot himself, committed suicide – he was only 20 years old.

Lee and Steven, who did not become involved in sporting achievement, like their older brother Mitch, used drugs and had dropped out of school before Jesse’s motorbike accident. Both are said to have started to use heroin addictively, after Jesse died.

Both repeatedly overdosed, using all their money on heroin, their father out on the streets, trying to find them and bring them home.

From accounts of their determined use and abuse of  heroin it would seem that the main motivation of Jesse’s two brothers was to avoid the overwhelming grief that they were suffering as a result of Jesse’s untimely death.

Both got so heavily into heroin, that they committed a pharmacy robbery – and were both imprisoned for it.

Criminality comes easily to those who are desperately drug addicted. Crime becomes a necessity to meet the cost of drugs. Once a person has the stigma of being both a drug addict and a violent criminal it becomes increasingly harder to see that behind the facade of illicit drug use, is a person deep in pain and suffering.

The eldest son Mitch is a survivor, like his father. Mitch was able to avoid the lure and temptation of drug use by becoming involved through his school, in sport. He is today a school teacher and a coach, saying that working with young people is in some ways compensation for the loss of his brothers – that he feels joy every day in watching young people grow up and in seeing them achieve their goals.

see article :   

It took George Chuvalo much courage and personal strength to come back from the brink of his own despair at the loss of his sons and his wife.

People who see drug use and criminality as being a disease, or deliberate choice, a result of poor parental guidance need to understand that drug use is a response to feelings of pain and failure, issues of powerlessness over life events, lack of self esteem. People in families do not always see the extent of problems. The help that they offer when a person has become addicted to drugs is often rejected. Love is not always enough.

Young people who have got themselves into drug use, and who desperately want to get out need comprehensive support.

The support and effective help that they need can be found at Narconon drug addiction recovery centers.

 see article: 

Families and young people, addicted to narcotics, can achieve complete drug addiction recovery, get back control and regain happiness – at Narconon Trois Rivieres.

Funerals of family members are hard.  Funerals of young adults your children grew up with and considered close friends?  Just as hard.  As I sat there that day and watched my son and his friends carry the casket of a close friend he had cared about all through junior high and high school, I hurt for his loss and the parents of the young man.

Some kids consider themselves fortunate to have one or two close friends.  My David was part of a group of seven close male friends with plenty of female close friends and girlfriends along the way.  A lot of times, Super Bowl parties and sleepovers were at my house.  Sometimes they were at Jacob’s house.

Jacob lived right down the street from us.  He was the only one in the group of seven who still had mom and dad married to each other.  The rest of the boys were living with mom or dad in divorced homes.  I always felt guilty when I would pick up David from Jacob’s house.  He could see one of his best friends with a full family experience.  Many times I heard the boys all talk about how lucky Jacob was.

So why were we at Jacob’s funeral?  Because Jacob committed suicide. The one member of the seven who seemed to have it all left it all one night.  As the others went off to college and work, Jacob stayed in our small town.  I asked David once where Jacob was and he said that they had grown apart.  For while David and the others grew up, Jacob discovered heroin and stayed home stoned and feeling no pain.  Or so one would think.  But instead, Jacob was filled with pain and one night took a gun and ended it all.

It has been over a year and I know the boys still miss Jacob.  They are all still in college and make sure to get together on special occasions.  It still boggles my mind that the one of the seven who seemed to have it all was the one who felt the most alone.  Out of fear, I asked David one night if he had ever felt like Jacob.  Had I let him down in any way?

David told me that he knew times were tough for us when he was younger but he always felt rich because I always cooked enough for not just him but his friends as well.  He never felt like an only child because his friends even called me Mom sometimes.  There was no arguing in our house and he knew when he woke up, I would be there.

To this day I feel for Jacob’s parents.  I can not imagine losing David, especially to suicide.  I am thankful that I was able to be there for him the first time he suffered a major loss.  I am also thankful David and the others did not fall victim to heroin use like Jacob did.  The boys learned the most painful lesson there is about substance abuse.  It is a lesson I don’t believe they will ever forget.

If you have any personal stories on heroin addiction, submit it to www.heroinaddiction.me. They will publish your story on their website and maybe your heroin story will save a life…

The thing is, Diane was heavy, hard core.  She injected too, but a lot more than Kelly did.  We didn’t think much of it.  Diane must know what she was doing.  It sure hit her differently than it did Kelly though.  We decided to go out for a walk by the river and then went back to the railroad car, just like any other normal night.  What we didn’t know was that it wasn’t going to be all that normal at all.

We all slept until afternoon the next day.  I guess we had done a little more than we had planned.  I woke up first and nudged Kelly.  After groaning for a minute, she sat up.  She reached over for her morning fix.  I called out to Diane but she didn’t answer.

I said to Kelly, “She’s probably in a coma after all of that stuff she did last night”.

We both laughed and I got up and nudged Diane.  No movement.  Now I was getting nervous. “Diane!” I shouted; again, no response.  I reached down and took her hand.  It felt cold.  I felt for a pulse and there was none.

I scooted back against the wall of the railway car as Kelly continued to make jokes.

“She’s dead,” I said flatly.
“What?  Oh stop playing” Kelly replied.

I simply pointed and Kelly went to check for herself.  Her face went pale and she asked me what we were going to do.  Like I knew.  If we told anyone, we could be blamed. If we left her in our “home”, we could probably never come back.  What little we had of lives were falling apart.  I reached for my morning fix so I could think clearly and decide what to do.

We decided to move her away from the railroad cars and to a place where she could more easily be seen by passersby or traffic.  We didn’t spend that day looking for tricks.  We spent it in a place where we could see Diane, but weren’t likely to be seen ourselves.  We didn’t say much to each other.  After what seemed like hours, someone finally spotted her and within minute’s cops and fire trucks and ambulances surrounded the place.  It took everything I had not to run to get into that ambulance with her but then I would have had to explain everything.

Kelly and I went about our business.  That is, for about 3 months when we realized we could not shake the memory of our friend dying.  We made a pact to get help and get off the drugs.  That was 3 months ago and life is better, but some days are still a struggle.  We are still going through drug addiction rehab but I have her and she has me and together, we will beat this.

We don’t want to end up like Diane…