This story was submitted to us for publishing, and although not a local family, the story needed to be published.  – editor

Mother Love
Here’s the story of drugs misuse in my family

It was just a normal Sunday afternoon, my husband was watching the television after lunch and I was doing the ironing. Something came over me and I said “Please God keep Paul safe”, and at 7 o’clock that winter night there was a knock at my door.

I went to answer it and on the door step was a police officer. The first thing that went through my mind was that Paul had been in a accident. The police officer asked for my name, he then asked if he could come inside. I showed him into the lounge, he introduced himself to my husband. He then informed us that our son was in the Borders General hospital after taking an overdose of a class A drug.

This was the day I found out that my son was on drugs.

My husband and I jumped into the car and headed for the hospital, we were both in such a state of shock all I could do was cry. My whole body was shaking from head to toe. When we arrived at the hospital, we were informed that our son had had four cardiac arrests but they managed to stabilise him.

When we were allowed to see him they told us that he had taken too many ecstasy tablets, when he was at a rave. My whole life turned upside down that Sunday! It turned my fear into hate. Hatred of myself, how could I have been so blind not to see that my son was suffering! Was it my fault he had gotten into drugs? Was I a bad parent? Had I caused him in some way to take an overdose! The anger towards myself continued to build. My husband could see what was happening to me and he got into a big argument with our son.

It was at that moment that my marriage began to suffer, my husband asked me to decide between him and our son, but how could a good Christian person decide between the two people she loved, who was to stay and who was to go? I told my husband I could not do that. He walked out on me. I suppose this was the only way he could deal with the situation at that time, it was not long after that I fell apart. I had a nervous break down and I ended up in hospital. I hated being there, so Christmas eve I discharged myself saying to myself that there was no way I was going to be returning back there, due to my sons drug problems. It was at that moment something inside me began to build the strength I needed to pull me out of my depression at that time. I was not sure what it was, I was still very angry inside about everything that was going on in my life. My husband returned home after being away for three months, my sons addiction continued to rule.

Then one morning my house was raided by the police and my son was arrested and put in prison. Then I knew there was a big big drug problem. I had to finally face it. I was hurting terribly, and then the blame game begun. If I had only watched him closer? If only I made him stay home? If only I had done this….. If only! Then this wouldn’t have happened to my child. I was listening to and believing the lies. He had me so wrapped up in believing that it was my fault. And my son was the victim, it was not long after my son was put on a methadone program.

During this period of my life I felt anger, helplessness and guilty feelings about my sons situation. I continued to blame myself. It was not long before he relapsed into heroin at much greater quantities. I felt there would be little or no chance that he would break out of his addictive habit. I prayed for help that my son would come back to my door one day and beg me to help him. I contacted London Release to find out if my son had any legal right as a drug user! They were very helpful and my son contacted the misuse team for help, he was prescribed Sobutex. He became clean again and I thought thank God for giving my son back.

But once again my prayers were smashed, as he reverted back to his drug habit. Things were worse this time. I noticed marks on his body from where he had been injecting himself, which I never noticed before. Then it hit me it’s not my problem, it’s his problem, he can only save himself. I myself am powerless over his addiction. I have moved on with my life, I’ve turned to God who has helped me greatly. And I pray for his recovery. I still feel that if there had been someone in Berwick upon Tweed, who had experienced the same situation as I and been there for me, and knew what I had gone through and I was able to talk to, not a professional, a mother, father, family member who has lived this nightmare. I would have become a much stronger person to cope with all my worries about my son.

So now, I am the person who has gone through the endless worry of a child taking drugs, and would like to offer any support to the families of drug addicts, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, boyfriends & girlfriends. We are all affected, but hopefully you will find this story a help, and a listening ear is always available…

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