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Isolated Prisoners of War

Heroin is not just devastating to the life of the addict. It destroys the lives of everyone around him, whether an acquaintance, a friend or family. This evil mistress takes everyone down with her; no one is immune to her travesty.

Heroin, that dark theif of a mistress my son saddled himself with, is a conniving witch, who wields her magic with her spoon and needle. She flirts with and entices the addict with promises of euphoric highs and intense orgasmic moments. She then turns desire into need, until their only thought is of needing her. She names her partner addict, and adds another notch on her bedpost.

She also claims the lives of those who love her new conquest, the ones she ripped him from. She laughs at the army of worry and wait we become, and howls as we cry and plead for the addict to turn away from her. She scoffs at our secret ops attempts to capture him back from the dark side, and with a flip of her hair, a click her heels, she turns her back to us after he relapses.

She leaves us with anxiety, worry, anger and pain that have no viable and constructive outlet. When our loved one is sober, we worry when there is unexplained silence, misplaced bouts of anger or vague details provided about his life. When he is in relapse, we ourselves relapse into a heightened state of anxiety, fear, anger and resentment. We spiral with the addict into a vast dark hole of despair, dreading the next phone call or knock on the door.

Heroin is a killer of all she comes in contact with, whether via the needle or the knowledge. With the very first plunge, we all die to our lives as we knew it. As the needle withdraws, we are no longer the same. I used to long for the day we were set free from the cell of hell we were chained in; however, as each day passes, just for today, the realization the war we waged against heroin will never end, as our enemy that dark mistress, will never retreat. We are forever all soldiers in combat, but mostly sad, isolated prisoners of war.

Jan writes about Heroin Addiction on her There is No Hero In Heroin blog where she writes openly about her son Stevie’s struggle with Heroin. Jan best described her writing style as “Heartfelt, honest and raw, not happy ever after at all.” and we agree with her.