To My Parents: Where Did I Go?

I had a very close relationship with my parents growing up. My brothers and I were lucky enough to have parents that loved to travel. We got to see and experience parts of the United States a lot of people never get the chance to. They would take us to the beach, the mountains and sporting events. Not long after we moved from Georgia to Nevada, I would disappear into the abyss that was a heroin addiction. I found myself withdrawing from my family in favor of other addicts. I felt as if I was no longer a part of my family. I became a phantom and fell victim to the disease. The only thing that mattered to me was getting high.

One Fateful Day

I had already experimented with marijuana, psychedelics, MDMA, painkillers and cocaine. I told myself I would never try heroin or meth. Little did I know, I was cursed with an addictive personality. The D.A.R.E. program in school tried to teach us to “Just Say No.” People do not understand that for people like us, it is not that easy. We are almost always going to try anything once especially if it is offered to us for free. That is how my addiction began one fateful day at a friend’s house. What started as a few simple hits of a tiny piece of heroin off tin foil would soon become a full-blown addiction.

Lights Are On But Nobody’s Home

I was living with my parents throughout my entire opiate addiction. I was almost always away from home. Even when I was home, I would make myself practically invisible to my family. I had built a strong network of fellow addicts due to the simple fact that I was the only person who could provide transportation. My father would allow me to borrow the extra car every day. I would use it to pick up my new found drug of choice. I had reached a point to where all my money was going towards feeding my addiction. I went broke and reached a new low of scamming, stealing and pawning- even from my own family. Getting high was all that mattered to me. I found myself hanging out with the wrong crowd and flying under the radar of law enforcement.

Live and Learn

I have no doubt that my parents knew there was something going on. I believe my parents were too afraid of intervening for several reasons. Getting through to me at that point in time would have been similar to getting through a brick wall. My parents also figured they would let me learn my lessons the hard way. I know it was not because they did not love or care about me. I suppose I was extremely unapproachable. As time went on, I was spending less and less time with my family. I was not all there mentally or emotionally. I was so far gone and strung out I felt as if I was a zombie. I had completely turned my back on the ones that wanted to be there for me the most. I often compare addiction to possession and rightfully so. Throughout active addiction, we are not ourselves. We are not capable of reasoning or logic. We act based on our own selfish needs regardless of consequence.

Give Us Our Son Back

I eventually broke free from my heroin addiction in my early twenties. I would find myself falling prey to cocaine later on in my mid-twenties. I had always been an alcoholic. If I was not using drugs, I was substituting with alcohol. I somehow always found myself caught in the vicious cycle of addiction and alcoholism. I would hold resentment towards my parents for the longest time. I would blame them for most of my problems and mistakes in life. I felt they could have done more to help me, especially at an earlier age. Through my eyes, I saw it as they had given up on me. My sick thinking was why stop if nobody cares what happens to me anyways? Difficulties in my life spanning over a decade would eventually lead me to an attempt to drink and drug myself to death. My parents could no longer bear watching me self-destruct. This time around, they reached out and offered to get me into detox and treatment. My addiction and alcoholism turned me into my evil twin, my own worst enemy. The day I went into treatment, my father said words to me that I will never forget. My father told me he “just wants his son back.” I had never let words hit me that hard. His  words still bring me to tears at times. I truly feel I just disappeared into a black hole. I forgot who I really was. I lost my true self, my true being. My family knew it. I just failed to see it. I still find myself often asking the question…where did I go?