Wrestling with Addiction

     “Heroin is back, and it is back with a vengeance”. 

     This is a sad truth that we live with today and unfortunately, it doesn’t seem that it is getting any better. Heroin use has doubled in the past 10 years but the saddest part of it all: today’s heroin is killing people at an alarming rate. There are over a quarter million people that die of substance-related deaths each year in this country. This number is devastating. Especially when you consider that each individual leaves a family and a circle of friends with profound wounds that seldom fully repair.

     Addicts are among us everywhere. Some quite obvious, and others are well-hidden, suffering the ugly effects of this disease alone on the bathroom floor, shaking violently, soaked in tears, and overflowing with shame. Addiction is- more often than not- totally misunderstood. In our culture, there is a stigma and judgment cast upon those who struggle with substance abuse. I ask of you, before casting judgment imagine their despair. Imagine what it must feel like to believe there is no option. These people need love, not more fuel poured on the fire. How can we expect people who struggle to step forward and ask for help when they feel misunderstood and shamed? Few things are sadder than encountering a person who knows exactly what he should do, yet cannot muster enough energy to do it. For those who have to watch a loved one go through this, it is one of the saddest things in the world. These are people that we love, after all. They need an environment of support, tolerance, and understanding.

     For those readers who may think that this topic will never touch their life- I ask you to think again. When most of us drink our first beer or puff on our first joint, none of us imagine that we might be taking the first step in a journey that will lead us to a life of pain, despair, shame, and hopelessness. I know for a fact that thought never crossed my mind. And I am pretty damn sure it never crossed my brother’s mind either. Sadly, tomorrow marks one year since my brother lost his battle with addiction. The wounds of losing a loved one never quite seem to heal. The reminders are everywhere. Siblings are your first friends and for 27 years, I knew I could always count on my older brother being in my corner. That was the type of guy he was not only for me, but for everyone he considered a friend or family. That is what I miss about him most. He was one person who was always proud of me. Since his passing, there has not been a day where he wasn't the first thing I thought about in the morning. I miss him like crazy.

     Around the time of Philip Seymour Hoffman’s overdose, I remember reading, “he didn’t die because he was partying or depressed. He died because he was an addict on a day of the week with a ‘Y’ in it”. The author made it seem like death was inevitable. When I read that it angered me. Its as if there is no hope for the addict. But that is not the case. Every addict is a human being, a completely redeemable human being. Not everyone has to suffer the same fate. If you know someone going through these same issues, I am sure most of you are, just imagine the nightmare that they are living through day to day. Be there for them and support them. Not everyone has to suffer the same fate!

Chris Fluck