MY MOTHER''S REPLY

Thank you, David, my Darling ex Druggie. Thank you for coming clean – literally and figuratively. For coming clean by telling your story the way it is and the way it was and for coming clean from drugs – at long, long last. The truth shall set you free. In fact you have set us all free from the burden of your addiction. And particularly yourself.
I know it has been a long, hard, lonely battle and my heart has ached for you all the years. From the time you were a little boy – for all the abuse we all suffered. You, being the eldest of my three boys, saw too much. We all lived in fear of our lives and particularly you. And so you grew up, always tearful, always frightened – in fact, a broken, beaten and tortured soul. When I was eventually able to get us out of that marriage when you were eleven, you were already deeply scarred. A gifted and intelligent child, you suffered emotionally and socially at school, far beyond the help of psychologists and psychiatrists. I was advised to send you to boarding school – one of the biggest mistakes of my life. I should have held you close, not pushed you away. It would toughen you up, they said, and stop your tears. But it didn’t – it isolated you and it was there, at the age of 13, that you started drinking to drown your sorrows. I was struggling to keep you at boarding school and later at varsity as I had to educate your younger brothers, as a single parent, on my meager teaching salary and getting no maintenance at all.
Dropping out of varsity you went off to Hillbrow, Johannesburg, managing to support yourself at first. Later you were asking for money which you assured us was for food, clothes and rent but it was, unbeknown to us, for heroin. (By this time I had married your wonderfully supportive stepdad). Some years later, you returned to  our home, thin, wasted, drugged out, hooked. Then followed years of trying to get you right but nothing helped. I felt so guilty for not having rescued you as a little boy and then later for having sent you to boarding school that I did all in my power to make you happy and assure you of my love. And so followed years of trying to get you right but nothing helped, not even going back to varsity, which, we hoped, would give your life a purpose. What a good actor you were (you always enjoyed acting as a child.) You pulled the wool over our eyes, lied, stole, manipulated endlessly – all with a straight face – and ruined us financially. And still we loved you. We always gave in to you but didn’t realize we were actually enabling you. I didn’t want to lose you to suicide as you often threatened and even attempted. The death of your youngest brother in an accident had already broken my heart.
Yet my Darling Boy, from the depth of my heart I forgive you. You have taught me so much. You have taught me about unconditional love. You have taught me that all good things come to those who wait. You have waited a long, long time and you have been rewarded. You have found the right place at the right time. God’s timing is perfect. Thank you Cedars, for giving my boy his life back. You will never know the depth of our gratitude.

Life is full of overcoming and you are indeed overcoming the scourge of your addiction. At last, my darling David, I can say, with real meaning, that I am proud of you. Although you have nothing – all the years we have had you living in our home, supplied your food and clothing (which you always sold for drugs) cellphones ditto – in fact, you don’t even own the shoes you stand up in, you are prepared to start at the very bottom. And so, my clean for 6 months, three and a half degreed (B.A./ Honours (Cum Laude albeit drugged) / Masters and on the way to your Doctorate executive motor vehicle observer (car guard) I am now truly proud of you. Your ever-loving and devoted Mom

I AM A DRUG ADDICT PT 2

I was always completely baffled by the idea that I could not return to using use drugs moderately like so many of my friends continued to do. Or like I had when I was younger, when it was still fun.  I always thought  that through sheer willpower I could learn to control heroin like I had the other drugs I had used. I always thought that was the problem . I never saw the need to stop using alcohol or  weed.  They were never a problem, I always used them in moderation and they never made my life unmanageable. The truth was even though I  thought I was  in control, I had always  needed drugs just to live a normal life. Heroin just made this more obvious and speeded up the progression.

What I have come to realise is that addiction is a disease with two components- a physical allergy and a mental compulsion. The physical allergy means that my reaction to drugs is different and more severe than that of other people. The mental compulsion means I have an obsession to use, so intense that it overrides any moral or  logical objections.  The combination means that I have no control when it comes to using. This is what separates a real addict from non-addicts—true addicts will carry on using even when we don’t want to—we literally do not have the ability to stop no matter how strong the desire to do so. We are sick. No amount of willpower, of pleading, begging , threatening  by loved ones will help.

 I had lived for years with a desperate desire to stop using , yet the first thought in my head on waking would be of the need to make some plan to score. The shame and guilt, the awareness of what I was doing to myself and my loved ones became so intense it incapacitated me. I would spend hours in internal debate trying to convince myself not to score, while knowing all along that I would be unable to stop myself.  .  After  years of trying to control my drug use I had finally got to the point where I could not go on. I did not know how to live without heroin and now I had got to point where I could not live with it. It no longer mattered whether I lived or died. I prayed to god to let me go to sleep and not wake up, and even though at this point I did not really believe that he had any interest in me, he was already making plans for me. It was only at this point, where I was willing to let go of everything , even life itself,  that I was able to accept help and find recovery.  I no longer cared whether I lived or died. I did not know it at the time but I had taken step 1 on my road to recovery – I had surrendered unconditionally and put my life in the hands of a power greater than myself.

I was brought to a recovery centre near Scottburgh through an extraordinary sequence of events that can only be described as miraculous. For weeks I had been lying in my room in a virtual catatonic state, not bothering to get out of  bed until I absolutely needed to. A few days before I sold a computer,  which had been loaned to me and bought 3 grams of heroin. I also bought a needle for the first time in my life, planning to inject it all and end my pathetic existence.

 I had always smoked my heroin, never mainlined. I believed because of this I was not a true junky. Real junkies stuck needles in their veins. There was something Oriental, mysterious even romantic about the process of smoking it. Even the name for it has a mystical ring—chasing the dragon.

I couldn’t pluck up the courage to put the needle into my vein, so I decided to smoke some first. After smoking some I felt so much better I no longer wanted to die and started making plans to get the computer back.. but first, as always,  another hit…. Before I knew it the heroin was all finished and I was still alive. The computer was the last thing of value I had to sell. The  study bursary I had been living on for the past few years  had dried up as I was no longer producing any work.  I was now been reduced to bumming and stealing money off my parents, again. This meant a daily trek up the hill to my parent’s house. My mother was so proud of me. She boasted to all her friends of how much I had achieved now I was clean (as she believed). It was so easy to lie to her.  She wanted so much to believe. I had completed my Master’s Degree two years before and was registered for my Doctorate. In reality I had produced no work the previous year and had relapsed into full-blown addiction. It was the shame and guilt of lying to and stealing  from my mother that brought me to my knees. I could no longer live with myself. I phoned a friend who I had known through Narcotics Anonymous a few years before. I had not seen him since I relapsed. Unknown to me he had also relapsed and was in treatment. I had tried a few times before to get hold of him, but he had not answered. This time I managed to get hold of him in the very short time –half an hour per week- that he was allowed to use his phone.  By chance, or gods will, there were two members of the centre in town—which is about 600kms from Scottburgh. My friend got hold of them and two days later I was here. God had done for me what I could not do for myself.

My name is David and I am a drug addict.

I have been using drugs and alcohol for 35 years. For 20 years they were my solution. When I used I felt better about myself. I was able to relax, have fun. I felt more connected to people. I was able to talk to people and make friends instead of feeling intimidated by them. I felt part of something.  But then the drugs stopped working, and I couldn’t stop. For the next 15 years I tried everything. I was in and out of rehabs, psych wards. I tried Ibogaine, sleep therapy, methadone, suboxone, acupuncture, acutouch, psychotherapy, hypnosis, herbs, amino acid supplements. I even ended up in Diepkloof prison – the notorious Sun City- for three weeks.  You’d think  that would be enough to scare some sense into a middle-class white boy.  I always managed to quit for a while, or get my using down to manageable levels where I believed I was in control. And for a while I would be.  But sooner or later the drugs would take over and I would end up in a complete mess, broke and alone . Somehow I would always end up back on the drugs and I could understand never understand why. I was baffled and mystified. I knew I wanted to, needed to quit , but I didn’t know how.

As a child I was miserable and unhappy. My parents fought all the time and my father had a terrible temper. He was also a minister, so aside from the chaos at home we had to present the picture of a perfect and happy family to the rest of the world. I learnt from a young age to pretend and hide my true feelings.  This was reinforced when I later I discovered I was gay. In apartheid South Africa this was the greatest of sins. I internalised society’s  attitudes and thought there was something wrong with me. I carried this secret until I was in my late twenties and was never able to be myself or get close to people.

I had my first drink at the age of twelve and by the age of fifteen was drinking  fairly regularly, but not excessively – it helped me make friends and gave me confidence, but I hated getting drunk and rarely did. In the army I drank even more regularly. It was something everybody did. I always considered myself a moderate drinker though I was drinking almost every day.

At University I started smoking weed. I also started partying—hard. This was new to me given my conservative small town background. I discovered the underground punk scene where I fitted right in. I also got very involved in anti-apartheid politics. Needless to say I dropped out after 3 years. Five years later I ended up in Johannesburg where I discovered there were lots of other freaks like me in the world. I opened  a comics and games bookshop in Hillbrow. My life revolved around partying and clubs. I started taking club drugs.  Even though I had discovered that it was ok to be gay I was still terrified of intimacy. I had lots of friends.  And I had drugs. They were my  consolation for lack of intimacy.  Although my life was chaotic, it was still manageable. I was still able to go to work every day and look after myself. I didn’t believe there was anything wrong with my lifestyle. It was still fun.

Then I discovered heroin. It was love at first taste. It started slowly, progressing from a weekend thing to everyday use  over about a year. That’s when the fun stopped. Heroin became the most important thing in my life. Nothing else mattered. I started stealing from work, selling my possessions, lying to my friends and family. This is when I first started wanting to quit and discovered I could not. It took another 5 years of hell including time in jail till I was ready to quit. I went back to my parents in East London and went into a psychiatric ward for treatment. 

In East London I  stayed clean  for  3  years . I went back to studying at the age of 42.  I was  leading a quiet life revolving around my studies, but  was still single and frustrated.  Then I rediscovered heroin.  It filled the gap in my life.  This time it took  another 3 years to get back into full blown addiction of everyday use—perhaps because I had some purpose to my life in my studies - but it wasn’t enough. By the end of my third year of studies as I was back in the cycle of lying cheating and stealing. I admitted to my parents I had a problem and went to rehab. I managed to fit rehab into the summer holidays and was back at varsity for the new year. I scored a bag of heroin on my first day out. This went on for another five years. I was in the rehab cycle. For the next 4 years I spent my summer holidays in rehab. My last  relapse was in December last year. Instead of a slow progress as before I went straight back into active, everyday use. The stealing, lying and cheating started all over again. I wanted to quit, but couldn’t. I was so overcome with shame and fear I ended up lying in my room for three weeks, praying to die and  leaving only to score. I had no friends and no material possessions left.

I had to be completely broken before I could realise the true nature of my problem . I always thought my problem was heroin. All my life I blamed society and other people for my problems. In the last three months, through intense work on the 12 step program I have realised my problem was me. I have never learned to deal with my emotions and used drugs to supress them.  I have now been given a new chance at life and a program to live by that enables me to deal with problems as they arise, instead of having to use drugs. I am truly grateful for this.