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[ Personal Narratives ]

Heroin Is Consuming My Son

How am I supposed to let go? 

You came to me. I watched you from afar. You were trying to keep it all together. Walking to work, catching taxi’s that would mean you had to pass the peddlers who knew you. Heroin was consuming you. You looked like you were in the final stages of cancer. Yet bravely, you tried to keep it all together, still going to work so you could afford the drug, without resorting to stealing. You tried so hard to keep to the principals I taught you. You sold everything and when you could not put one foot in front of the other, when you could no longer do it, you came back home.

I detoxed you myself. I got you to the necessary doctors. I took you away from your old hunting ground. You looking handsome, no permanent damage physically. You had been drugging since 13 years of age and now you are 37. This is not the first time. This is not even the third time that you have physically recovered. I see progress enough to trust you to go out with your brothers, who are clean, and you even met a girl who has been clean for 10 years and yet you try to convince her to use with you again? She says, “No!” She is so angry, that she refuses to visit us again. Why would you do this? 

Its been eight months and yes, you did not use, this time. My Son, you’re away from the City, you with me, in my town, a farming town, away from your usual drug surroundings, yet you still seek out and try to find drugs here. 

Why? Why? Why do you feel you have to go back to that?

In 2 months, you have to carry on with your life. The psychologist has been doing cognitive and behavioral therapy for months. I cannot do this anymore. I cannot save you.

Tell me how to let you go? I see so much light, but the darkness in you is ugly. I am going to die, trying to save you. I cannot do it anymore. I have given you 8 months to get well. I have seen you do the work to stay clean. I have done all I can to help you. If you go back I have to let you go. Will you go to assisted living?

It’s like letting a bird go, that first flight, will you fly or fall? I cannot do this anymore. When do I walk away?  

When do I say I cannot love you to death, any longer?


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