My daughter is an addict. She has
tried alcohol, nicotine, and meth, but her drug of choice was heroin. I was
shocked when she told me about her addiction, but determined to help her get
clean. That day she took the first step forward in the hardest thing she’ll
ever do.
Watching her in heroin withdrawal
was gruesome. She was violently ill; it is not unheard of for a person to vomit
their own feces. She stumbled through the hall, unable to walk completely
upright. She was shaking, scared, crying, and she couldn’t do it. All the love
and support and willpower in the world was not enough to overcome the grip
heroin had on her mind and body. She did not quit that night, nor would she
quit for many nights to come, but she kept trying, kept fighting.
After some research and several
phone calls, she and I decided to visit an addiction clinic. We talked to the
medical staff and the counseling staff, learned about the options, and decided
to start medical and psychological treatment for addiction.
She decided to try Suboxone, a
medication made of two drugs. One of the drugs blocked the effects of
withdrawal, helping to minimize her nausea and other physical symptoms. The
other drug blocked the effects of narcotics, preventing her from feeling
anything from heroin even if she did relapse. She went to the clinic every
single day to get that day’s dose of medication, and take it in front of a
witness to make sure she wasn’t selling it on the street.
She met with a drug counselor every
week, working through the psychological issues that led to drug addiction in
the first place. Her counselor was an addict, too, clean for many years, with a
Master’s degree in social work. Meeting with another addict, someone who did it
and who continues to do it every day, gave my daughter hope. This was really
hard, but not impossible; people do this every day.
After many years, my daughter still
goes to the clinic several times a week and sees a counselor a couple times a
month. She is an addict. She will always be an addict, and this will affect the
rest of her life. She will always want heroin. Her brain, like all addicts’
brains, is rewired for addiction. She must always be on guard, cautious in the
extreme.
Those of us who love my daughter
will always be affected by addiction, too. We will never be able to bring
narcotics into the house, even after surgery or injury. Sometimes her parent
figures feel it’s necessary to search her room for drug paraphernalia. There
are nights she doesn’t trust herself to be alone, and her brothers volunteer to
hang out with her all night, helping her fight her battle with addiction. Heroin
and nicotine are the most powerfully addictive substances in the world, based
on recidivism rates. My daughter has been clean for a long time, but she is not
cured.
My daughter did not wake up one
morning and decide, “I think I’ll be a drug addict.” As with any addict, there
were other circumstances that led her to try that first dose. She is not and
has never been a bad person. She is a regular person, who was tempted and fell,
but got back up to try again. We all have something that tempts us, that we
fall into again and again, but we keep trying to be better people.
If every addiction had a smell, we might be
surprised at how prevalent it is. If our other sins had a smell, none of us
would be exempt. That’s why I was surprised and saddened to see this comment: “The
fact they chose to smoke in the first place just shows they really don’t care
period, about anything.” Addicts of all kinds are regular people who struggle.
Smokers have feelings, and care deeply about all the things non-smokers care
about. They deserve our love, the same as any other of our neighbors.