A Letter of Hope/Followed by Death

How many of us have gotten a letter like this? A letter that makes you believe, because your loved one believes this too.  No one enjoys being an addict, addiction is a cruel disease.  Back to the letter…It was sent to me from a Mother who lost her child last year, who suffered by addiction. (Another murder by fentanyl)

Dear Mom,
Hey, what’s up? It is Saturday afternoon at about 2:15. No meetings today so I stayed in bed till like 10:20 then brushed my teeth then finished another book. I just did chest and abs and I’ll do them again later on. Since they called “Rec” at 10 today I didn’t go outside. I’ll go tomorrow.
I’ve been thinking a lot since I’ve been here. About everything, about how I’m done with heroin. And wasting my time and money on it. I don’t know how to explain the changes that I’ve experienced through my little day by day journey here.

I know this isn’t what I was meant for.

I’ve never had a problem doing anything I’ve set my mind too. Yes, sometimes I don’t exactly get it the right way, but I do get what I set my mind to …What I’m getting at is if I stay away from the poison that’s just gonna ruin my life then there is no reason I shouldn’t be able to make tons of money, be happy with myself, and keep good people around me who are positive and want me to thrive and be happy. Lol, even though sometimes I get jealous of people and hope they don’t thrive, that’s something I have to work on. I pray every night, I don’t get on my knees and I don’t even put my hands together sometimes but still I take the time to do it every night. I pray for you, dad, the girls especially, I don’t really pray for me I just thank God for another day and for letting me learn my lesson once again. A lesson I think is definitely teaching me I need to slow down and take a good look at the road I’ve been going down and that it’s taking me nowhere. I also need to thank him for allowing me to only pay the price for these minor crimes and not the many others I’ve committed in my lifetime which I’d probably have to be in jails forever for, lol, but that’s all over now.

I look around and watch people, like the ones like me who have drug problems and like me, they’re all such good people

Sometimes I can’t even understand how they make it to jail, but I know its due to drugs.  I just know I definitely am not gonna continue this path, I’m way too good-looking, nice and caring of others when I’m not doing drugs but when I’m messing up, all that goes away. Well, not all of it but enough to make a big difference. It’s enough to make you, G, grandma and everyone else in my life who is so directly affected by my disease, happy and show you guys the love you deserve.

your son,
‘V’

Remember Hope

www.facebook.com/170355139819317/posts/1029944250527064

Don’t Try Drugs

My son told me the first time he tried Heroin, he knew he was addicted!!!

It’s a lifetime decision… remember that

Injection Sites in NY

Think about this before forming your opinions. I had minor hand surgery today so I need to research before having any thoughts to share. I’ll give mine tomorrow but could you share your thoughts today.

http://nypost.com/2018/05/03/de-blasio-commits-to-opening-four-supervised-injection-sites/

We need more Treatment centers!!!! Just give free needles, that will help but WE NEED SO MANY MORE EASILY AVAILABLE SUCCESSFUL TREATMENT TREATMENT TREATMENT CENTERS before we spend millions on this project… Just sayin’

What is going into your body?

Grey death: It’s 10,000 times more powerful than morphine

Killed my son. Your son, daughter, sister, brother, friend, lover, mother, father, anyone you loved? Yet, it’s legal. Big Pharma prescribes it when over the counter drugs work without the risk of addiction. Marijuana works as well but you can grow that, robbing greedy Big Pharma from the beloved dollar. Drug cartels can replicate fentanyl and they do. Adding it to shipments coming to America so your dealer, your greedy dealer who doesn’t give two shits about anything but their bling, can add their own cuts to make more $$$ you have a really good chance of dying but…read this before your next fix….Read on www.google.com/amp/s/amp.usatoday.com/amp/344371001

Did you lose your loved one from tainted drugs? I did ❤️😍❤️

R.I.P. Dannyboy ❤️😍❤️

Codependency Can Be Dangerous?!

I’m writing this for a couple of reasons.

This May will be two years since it started. I’ve been the victim of cyberstalking and harassing in the outside world from someone who was in a codependent relationship with my son.

It’s like living a nightmare, a very dark place to be.

My son was in this destructive relationship for years. Since his death last September, the harassing continues. My family gets messages as well. They don’t entertain it. I don’t either but I can’t not feel it. It’s almost like the fear of our loved addicts relapsing. You know that horrible feeling you’ve gotten so many times, after unanswered calls or them being late or for no reason at all. That’s the feeling I get when I ambushed. It’s always been unprovoked so it’s completely surprising. Like a gut punch, your adrenaline kicks in, an uncomfortable anxiety takes you over. Then of course wondering how far she’ll go this time. Posting on my Facebook Page Loving Heroin Addicts about feeling happy that my son is gone, she is free. Codependent people make it all about themselves yet they always have the option to be free, walk away. Simple. Not so simple for the addict.

I hope anyone who thinks they may be Codependent, reads the attached article!

The trick is to recognize Codependency before it has you damaging yourself and others. Any of this sound familiar? ❤️🙏❤️

Please subscribe and share your experiences. We are our best supporters.

5 min read

https://psychcentral.com/lib/symptoms-of-codependency/

God is good

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Arrested and Bruised

I am finally home, I live with and care for my 91-year-old father, with the help of an aide.  Although I’m middle-aged, since my Mom passed a year and a half ago, Dad has become much more worrisome about me and everything in general. Mom and Dad were blissfully happy all of their 65 years marriage. Even when Mom was ravaged by Alzheimer’s, they were still madly in love. So when I walked in the door 6:00pm after my flight being delayed 4 hours, Dad was waiting for me to make dinner. He wouldn’t let his aide cook for him so we ate together and I excused myself to pass out in my own bed. I just wanted to nap but when they tried to wake me they saw I was exhausted and I continued to sleep happily in my own bed.

Until…I received a phone call from the Police.  I was petrified, as the last time I got a call from the police, it was to learn my beautiful son had passed.  I realized almost immediately that this wasn’t the case with my daughter because she was close enough for them to knock on my door.  She was finally picked up after absconding months ago.  I had called her Parole Officer (PO) probably 15 times in the past few weeks, leaving ten messages with the names of who she was with and the address.  I never received a call back from them, nor did they pick her up.  This is the usual behavior from her Parole Officer, she just doesn’t give a damn.  The seven other times my daughter absconded, I found her or led them to her.  They don’t look, I don’t know why.  I would think it’s a reflection on them but apparently not.  They never worked FOR my daughter.  Never helped her find help, never looked for her, never gave me any respect.  It’s definitely not anything like television or the movies.  The real-life criminal system as it pertains to handling drug addicts, SUCKS!

I went today to pick up her belongings from the Detective who called me last night.  They were actually really sympathetic.  Seems they had pulled over my daughter and the piece of shit that my daughter called her “boyfriend”, last week and after noticing bruises on her face they ran their names through the system.  My daughter’s name came up clear, there should have been a warrant for her arrest, had the PO done her job.  They had to let them go but because the Detectives saw the bruises on her face, they took it upon themselves to try to get her away from this dirtbag.  Somehow, they managed to find her and arrest her and get her to safety.  Now she will get the help she needs.  I will be filing a formal complaint against the PO TOMORROW! Again, the parole system failed.

I asked my daughter why she hadn’t reached out to me.  We spoke numerous times a day and Facetimed a few times a week.  She always had her make-up on beautifully, I suppose to cover the bruises.  She told me, she didn’t know why it was a mental thing.  Thankfully, she will receive help for being the victim of domestic abuse.  Abusers are usually great manipulators, but his game is up.  I hope he spends the next few weeks looking over his shoulder because these detectives were not happy.  I am not happy and an unhappy mother, especially one whose child has been hurt by the hands of another, is the worst kind of enemy.  As we all know though, God doesn’t like ugly.

I really pray though that my daughter receives the help she needs to change her patterns in life.  It’s been too long for her, this horrible life of abuse and drugs.  When I was on the plane yesterday I was seated next to a young family with two little girls. While watching and listening to them, I began to cry. I thought of my family at that age.  Teaching the kids, holding them when they were afraid, showing them the beauty in nature, the good in people and telling them they could, of course, obtain anything they desired in life with passion and determination. I’m not losing hope on her.  My son is finally at peace, my other daughter is growing into a beautiful mother and woman.  I will not give up on her, I just pray she doesn’t give up on herself.

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Florida

img_5106Monday night. I’m stuck in Florida. It’s been a long three days navigating the ridiculous road of securing a bed in detox and rehab for a loved one. You have to understand, the fact that after decades of being an alcoholic, this person reached out for help… I am hell-bent on making this happen no matter what.

After calling six detox facilities, all supposedly in his insurance plan, we were narrowed down to three that really did accept it. So the intakes start, minimum six phone calls back and forth for each, one hour of questions regarding his past substance abuse history, mental state, the year started, how much alcohol is being consumed etc. If you’ve ever tried to get an addict or alcoholic help you know that all this time you’re also having to keep them comfortable so they won’t run and change their mind. So add in here a couple of trips to the liquor store, dealing with someone inebriated yet still willing to get help. They can’t be left alone. Vomiting, shaking, dehydration, this is so sad. Because this was Saturday and Sunday, he won’t get in anywhere until Monday. The wait. We all know the wait. The suffering is not spared on loved ones.

We got the call. He was cleared for detox and 28-day rehab. In Florida. He wouldn’t go unless I accompanied him. I stayed the night with him, no sleep for either of us and at 5:00 am Monday morning we were on the way to the airport. He was withdrawing before we even boarded the plane. Bars in the small airport were scarce and not open anyway. The panic set in. We boarded the plane with plans for him to be picked up upon landing and for me to immediately board a flight right back home, literally less than an hour after landing. He was becoming petrified on the plane, feeling trapped, shaking, crying and miserable. I asked the steward when they would be serving beverages. It would be a little while. Luckily the flight left on time and fifteen minutes after takeoff, we had six bottles of vodka on our tray. It was a three-hour flight. I don’t know how we made it. He was begging for another drink by the time we landed. I assured him he would be met at the airport immediately and be taken to detox. I would walk directly to my next flight and all would be well.

I sat him in a wheelchair as I waited for his luggage, all the while looking for his driver. Luggage in hand, I called the rehab to check on the van only to realize I was texting and leaving messages regarding our arrival, for the WRONG rehab. We would have to wait another thirty minutes. I missed my flight back home.

After 25 minutes trying to calm him, the van arrived. An attractive, healthy, happy woman who just completed the rehab, exited the van, joyously saying goodbye to the driver and I put him in the van. This was huge. I have faith he will do well. He waited many years to get help and sometimes that’s the best time. Either way, he was ready. I was ready to find my way home.

Hence, I’m in a hotel, no clothes, meds, bags with a flight back home in the morning.

Oh, did I mention there’s a snowstorm expected at home tonight! You can’t make this shit up.

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Never ending

Last night I received a message from a family member. They are going to rehab after many years of alcohol abuse. The death of my son and the absconding of my daughter made life unbearable at this point. Being the mother, I am the one who holds everyone together and it’s in my nature to help. It’s probably that way in 80% of the situations. That’s why we are the Mothers, matriarchs and the bond. I know this has been a long struggle for them, mental illness and substance abuse has crippled their mind. That’s what it does, substance abuse. The abuser is usually self-medicating at some point and copes by using so as not to feel. Eventually, they are only comfortable when high. So, no rehabs available till Monday. Figures, unfortunately, addiction, mental illness, and alcoholism don’t have a calendar. So, I will stay with them, keep them from sickness, feed and serve them drinks until Monday then drive a few hours to rehab. That’s what women and mothers do right? ❤️🙏❤️

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