The Hell of Heroin Addiction Part II: How do you help an addict?
It was more than a year since I’d seen Sally and Sue (of Mutants fame), who were two of my closest friends for many years. My old friends who had been around during my theater and early punk days hardly recognized me after I’d been in the grips of heroin addiction for a few years.
We were sitting at an outdoor table at San Francisco's Mission Rock; the sun, brilliant and glittering on the beautiful bay belied the darkness of my condition. I was high—actually nodding out—but I could see the shock registered on their faces. Sally had overcome her alcoholism—she had been clean and sober for over three years and Sue had never really been an addict at all, even though we had done plenty of drugs together. They wanted to help me, as did so many people in those dark and isolated days—but they were powerless like everyone else. I remember Sally saying to me that day, “Melinda, please get help—please stop doing heroin—it’s killing you.” Honestly? I didn’t care—looking back, I was aware that my life was on a suicidal spiral into hell and at least some part of me actually hoped death would spare me from any more of life’s suffering.
In the worst years of my heroin addiction, I didn’t see much of anyone except other junkies and of course, dealers. The hell and ecstasy of heroin addiction consumed my world. There was the daily agony when the throes of withdrawal grip you; your stomach churning and cramping and your muscles feeling almost palsied in random spasms that racked your soul. You couldn’t venture far from a bathroom because nausea and diarrhea could grab hold and shake you at any moment, with the lingering tremors leaving you limp and helpless as a baby. But the very worst of withdrawal was the ‘heebie jeebies’—the hellish feeling of bugs crawling under your skin, impossible to scratch away. Withdrawal is so cruel that even sleep can offer no escape, as insomnia prohibits any kind of restful slumber. Lying awake at night, writhing and twisting in the agony of withdrawal, I felt I deserved the torture—because I was a dirty junkie.
Withdrawal is hell. And each day, you somehow crawl out of whatever hole you found yourself the night before to get to your dealer to end the misery. As soon as I scored, I got high—I couldn’t even wait to get home—my dealer lived across the street from a gas station and every day I would use that their tiny, filthy bathroom to shoot up. After scoring, I would rush to ask the attendant for the key, which he would grudgingly give me—but only if I purchased a beer or a pack of cigarettes. Sitting in the filthy urinal, hands shaking and fingers sweating, I’d take out my ‘works,’ which included the syringe, a spoon, some vitamin C to break the heroin down, and a small vial of cotton, of which I would use a small ball to filter the impurities in the heroin. Then the never-ending search for a decent vein would begin—my arms told a hideous tale of missed shots, healed and still blistering abscesses, and track marks so pronounced a toy train could have made a run on them. I never had a junkie’s veins. Once I found a vein, the syringe would empty, while a tiny slice of heaven filled my world as the pain subsided so abruptly that this in itself seemed reward enough for my trouble.
I’ve never quite known relief like a shot of heroin to ease the horror of withdrawal. And ultimately, this is why it is so difficult to quit heroin—because when you are in the throes of the nightmare of withdrawal, you can rationalize any behavior, do things you would never dream of doing if you weren’t an addict, and trade all your respect and integrity for shame and humiliation. It’s just so damn difficult to stop.
Therefore, I know firsthand how hard it is to quit heroin addiction. I know it more than I know most things because I lived it every day of my life for nearly six years.
One of the harder things about writing this blog has been seeing so many people who are suffering with addiction. Since I launched Melindaville, I have heard from so many people. Some are addicts themselves, mired in a torturous cycle of hustling drugs, scoring drugs, getting high on drugs, avoiding law enforcement, while devastating everyone in their paths. Most, however, are those who love the addict; they are the ones who stand by in helpless frustration, paralyzed by the fear that the addict will lose her or his battle with the drug. They are the parents, wives, sisters, brothers, and friends—standing by, not only in frustration but also in a rage, lying just below the surface. They all ask me the same question: What can I do to stop this person from destroying her/his life? What can I do to stop this person from destroying my life.
Just today, I received another email from a mother, begging me for any kind help; often, they just want a little hope—a lifeline to someone who has lived through it who can reassure them that hope is never lost; when there is life, there is hope. Sometimes, they simply need an ear—someone who can listen to their story—who understands the agony of loving someone who is addicted to heroin. Addiction is not a solitary act—it affects every single person who loves the person who is addicted.
What do I tell them?
I tell them, first—that they must realize that no one person or even group of people can be the driving force behind an addict’s decision to get clean and stay clean: only the addict’s strong desire to want another, better way of life can be the catalyst to bring about such an enormous, psychic change. The courage to change must come from within. However, people who are close to an addict can do things that can set the stage for an addict reaching that hard bottom, so they will become willing to change.
I tell them that they must stop enabling the addict. Enabling can occur on a variety of levels: from giving money to the person to allowing the addict to live rent-free, to providing free meals, or even transportation. Enabling occurs when you allow an addict to live in their world of addiction easier—and all of the aforementioned things are examples of how a loved one often does that.
Every year an addict stays mired in addiction is another year where that addict’s death is more likely to occur. Therefore, every year the addict's loved ones provide an easier life—well, it could be that one year that finally lead to the addict’s death. There are only four possible destinations for any addict: death, insanity, incarceration, or change. If you enable an addict, you are not faciliating change—period. People feel heartless and helpless not doing anything—but often, shutting the door and allowing an addict to reach that devastating low can really be the greatest act of love. Only then does someone truly become willing to change—and once a person is willing to change, miracles can and do happen. I’m living proof.
Peace,
Melinda
Played: 983 | Download | Duration: 00:07:17
Categories: Drugs,Addiction,Crossroads,Healing,Addiction and Recovery,Transformation and Change,Heroin
Tags: helping an addict courage change choices heroin addiction crossroads addiction and recovery heroin
Melinda,
I had such vivid image of your struggle at your clear and evocative description. I have spoken to you about this before, my friend who has a brother in the grip of alcohol and prescription pain medication addiction. While it is not heroin, the suffering her family is going through is exactly the same as the pain you describe for the families of heroin addicts. Her family is slowly coming to grips with the knowledge that his sobriety is entirely his decision and that they can only help him by NOT ENABLING his addiction. Thank you for another sterling entry.
Your Friend,
ST
Reply to this
ST,
It is very hard for many families to stop enabling--in fact, I think that is probably the biggest deterrent to an addict reaching that bottom: her/his family cannot stand to do nothing so they try to 'help' in ways that are nothing less than enabling. It's so good that your friend's family finally came to that realization--and hopefully, they will stick with their resolve (addicts are so cunning).
My own mother was an enabler--she enabled me for years and it wasn't until she broke off all telephone contact with me (she even changed her phone number because she was never able to say 'no' to me over the phone). It was only then that I reached the terrible bottom I needed to. I could have died--but the chances of my dying would have been much greater if I had remained a heroin addict any longer.
Thanks for stopping by and for sharing your story of your friend--my thoughts and prayers are with them.
Melinda
Reply to this
This was so hard to read. I have never done heroin and I got a real sense of what it must be like to go through the withdrawals. Thank God you made it out of that, Melinda.
Reply to this
It was harder to live, that's for sure. I think I need to lighten things up around Melindaville though--I seem to be going through a gloomy period. It's been a tough summer, that's for sure.
Thanks for stopping by, Sheena!
Melinda
Reply to this
Melinda, Thank you so much for writing more on this topic.
I'm not surprised to know that people contact you for the recovery of their loved ones, for I think with God's help and your personal experience of being recovered from addiction you can do a lot to give them hope of a bright life.
Who can better understand the death hidden inside heroin addiction than the one who himself/herself was an heroin addict.
Dear sister, You are right in saying:
"and once a person is willing to change, miracles can and do happen. I'm living proof."
You are certainly a proof, Melinda.
May Allah keep for us this proof for long......
Keep up your good job,Melinda.
Your Inspired Reader,
Ibn Hanif
Reply to this
Ibn Hanif,
Thank you so much for stopping by--and you know, I believe you are absolutely right. I honestly believe that my life was spared so that I could be of service to others who are still struggling. I know I feel so strongly about this purpose.
Thank you again, dear friend--
Melinda
Reply to this
Hello hello Melinda! I
My mom has had a relative who was a addict, he sadly past away due to sickness. I saw him so now and then, but I was too little to realize that he was really sick. I didn't understand what it meant to be an addict either. As I got older I got to know more of course, but reading your post really made a lot clearer. And it's true change starts with yourself, for so long you don't see or feel the reasons to change, nothing much can happen. You need to have this 'mental click' that makes you realize that you have to change, for yourself, to become a better person. I'm just really happy that you managed to get out of it and that you know can share your knowledge with the world. Thanks for sharing Melinda! Take care *hugs*
Reply to this
Hey TJ--thanks so much for stopping by. You know what is amazing about addiction--I don't know one person who has never been affected by it at all. Everyone I have ever talked to about addiction has known at least one person--a friend, a family member, or even an acquaintance who has been touched by addiction.
You are absolutely right--you have to have that 'mental click' that finally gets you to the point where you say: I must change because I can no longer go on with things the way they are.
Take care,
Melinda
Reply to this
After reading this, I certainly have reason to be thankful for my almost life-long terror of needles. But for that terrible fear, I might have ended up in the same place you were.
I cannot tell you just how glad I am that you made it through. You are an inspiration to us all.
Reply to this
Sweet Violet,
You are certainly no the first person who has told me that it was only their extreme fear of needles that stopped them from going that route--I am so glad you didn't venture all the way down that same path I did.
I certainly am lucky to have made it out!
Melinda
Reply to this
Melinda-your posts are such a gift to us. One can speculate about what hell is, but only one who has been there really knows. That is why honesty is so important, not to keep the truth hidden. You know the way in, and you know the way out. Freeing yourself, you now have the knowledge to help free others.
Reply to this
That's what I am really hoping, NP--I hope that through my experiences, others might avoid some of the hell I did endure.
Thanks, as always, my friend for stopping by--
Melinda
Reply to this
Hello again sweet sister...yeah, it's been quite a summer, hasn't it? Geez, I keep wondering why I seem to need so much pain in order to grow...oh well...I am stubborn...and pain must be God's way of getting my attention...also I keep hearing that refrain..."There's more room in a broken heart"..enough of the self-pity...I still remember some phrases from early recovery that have helped me with the addicts I have loved who are still in the disease (and let's face it, who is more exciting to a dope fiend than another dope fiend?) It is funny how it took me so much longer to let go of "the life" than it took to even let go of my active addiction...because for so long in my recovery I was still addicted to addicts: they are so exciting...and I LOVED that adrenaline rush...anyhow...the two phrases (that I still must remind myself of daily) "You hit your bottom when you stop digging" and "If you want to stay clean, I will walk through Hell to help you, but if you want to get loaded, you can go to Hell alone....been there...done that..." And then there is a final one that for years I asked my (now) ex-lover: "Had enough pain yet?" Finally I got smart enough to ask MYSELF that...and the answer was "yes"...today I am OK with a life without a man in it...and with releasing all the people who are still active in the disease with love....now if I can just survive this last kid...clearly God still has lessons for me...hmmmm...interesting...didn't start out making this about me...Ok final thought: How many addicts does it take to change a light bulb? Just one...s/he holds it up to the socket and waits for the world to revolve around him/her...
Trish
Reply to this
Ah, another thing we have in common, Tricia--I am very stubborn myself--too stubborn at times. In fact, the only person I have met who might be more stubborn than I am is my husband! And that's saying something.
My years of being single were so good for my personal development. I had so much work to do on Melinda that I just didn't have the energy to devote to a relationship with anyone. I learned to love myself, to become comfortable with myself--and to enjoy myself. And when you can do that for yourself then you can finally be ready to give yourself to a committed relationship. And I really do believe that relationships develop (in the right way) when we are ready for them.
Take care, my sister in recovery.
Melinda
Reply to this