The Opioid Epidemic, the Pillhead Revolution, whatever you want to call it is killing people. It’s killing them left and right. As you know by now I have been involved up to my eyebrows trying to keep my son alive. Let’s look at some facts. Facts are inconvenient and boring a lot of times, but let’s look at them anyway, for giggles if nothing else.
Overdoses from opioids are up 200% from last year. 18,883 were deaths. Due to the increase in governmental restrictions regarding the prescription opiods addicts are turning to heroin more and more. Due to the legalization of Marijuana in some U.S. states the Mexican drug cartels experienced a noticeable loss in cash flow. It did not take them long to see the possibilities in importing a new drug to fill that gap, that drug is heroin.
As with any completely illegal drug, heroin is manufactured from the ground up in nasty, seedy sweat shops, transported by mules, willing or otherwise, cut, stepped on and creatively extended for financial and personal gain. This is where the real problem begins. By the time the shit hits the streets of Nowhereville, MT the fools have NO idea what they really have. They have to guess on purity and strength, lots of times, they guess wrong.
I try to allow people anonymity in this blog. This blog is principally about me, my journey through this minefield, loving a junkie, a junkie who just so happens to be my son. This of course does not allow him to be anonymous, but we have reached an impasse on that, of sorts anyway, and I continue on. I am interjecting this explanation here because the following paragraphs have a couple of new players. I intend to respect them as much as I can, and if you think you know who they are, well you are probably wrong.
An overdose occurred here in our little slice of rural America. Of course it was a big deal, the whole town is talking. Thank all that is holy it was not a fatality. I know this person, a very good person who took a wrong turn somewhere. A person looking for something, something that will never be found in the barrel of a needle. A person that if they could only see what others see in themselves…. a person who also has parents, who hurt and are terrified… in other words there but for the grace of the universe go I.
My very worst nightmare comes to life and it is not on the television somewhere, in some huge city, where let’s face it, we expect these things to happen. No, this happened in my backyard, to a person I know, a person I cared about at one time. I broke down in tears, which turned to sobs. A friend told me they didn’t understand my reaction, after all I was no longer close to them.
No my friend did not understand. This incident proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that heroin is increasing in both popularity and range. It is becoming easier to get, easier to cut, easier to kill.
Young adults do not understand mortality. When you reach my age you know that life is in fact a journey and like all journeys it has varying lengths. When you reach my age you have things you want to see and do and you know you are running out of time. When you are 17 or 23 you think you have forever and bad shit only happens to other people. It doesn’t only happen to other people!! This only proves it can happen to you. When you are young you are naive, you trust people, you don’t understand that the drug you are buying is a commodity. You don’t really understand greed and the lengths people will go to in order to make a damn buck! You don’t understand that your life means nothing to someone who sells death for a profit.
But I do. Your parents do. And that’s why we cannot sleep at night.