Thursday, February 3, 2011
About a month ago my son William came to stay with us because no one would have him their homes. You see, he has a devastating, macerating, rotting, ruinous, and deadly disease. He is a heroin addict. Since he’s been here he’s admitted to me that it’s been that way for 10 years and that he’s done terrible, shameful, hurtful, things to his friends, family but mostly himself. Eric and I opened our house and hearts to him to try and keep him out of jail and into treatment.
He did well for about a week then all the Dilaudid a very strong opiate pain pill in my drawers (about 3 or 4) disappeared. I was livid and thought for certain Eric would throw him out on his ass. He denied it and it until he was blue in the face until Eric got ugly and grabbed the shotgun then told him to fess up or pack his shit and get out of our house. Billy broke down in tears and huge gasping sobs but through the heaving moans he was able to confess to the crime give what sounded like a heartfelt apology.
After Eric made him empty his bags, break the two needles he found within, and explain to him that he understood how hard it must be always be exposed to so many available drugs Eric generously and out of the kindness of his heart gave him another chance. He had a hearing to go to the next week and we were all afraid he would be urine tested although I did grudgedly rewrite the letter for the Judge I was happy to type up for the magistrate only a week ago.
Things settled down again and Eric was even good enough to share his anti-anxiety meds called Xanax with him to keep him calm and his cravings down. This is a medication that was prescribed to Billy before he ran out of insurance anyway. However, my son had admitted to me that he abused this drug as well as anything he ever got his hands on.
(to be continued)