Charles described to me how heroin “talked” to him. He sort of acted out the conversation. It was riveting and unforgettable.
Once he told me this, I understood what was happening in his head. How seductive it was. How hard it was to escape. How it coaxed him into doing what he didn’t want to do. How the disease of addiction grips someone with that initial euphoria and then kicks them in the ass over and over until they’ll do anything to get out of it. And in Charles’ case, that was suicide.
Charles: I’m not going to take any more silver. Not selling any more of it to pawn shops. It makes me feel like shit to steal. I’m never doing another hit of heroin. It doesn’t even give me that great feeling any more.
Heroin: Remember how it made you feel? I know you can feel that way again.
Charles: No way. I’m not doing it. I don’t want to steal. I don’t want to be addicted.
Heroin: I’m patient. Soon enough you will crave me again. You know we can achieve that euphoric high again.
Charles: I won’t. I’m not a junkie. I won’t take any more. My mom will find out and be so disappointed in me. I am already such a failure. I’m such a scum bag.
Heroin: Just one more hit. And then you’ll stop. What can it hurt to take just one more?
Charles: I don’t want to. But maybe if the next one is my last.
Heroin: They won’t miss that silver. Hell, they use it once a year! They’d want you to have it. They’ll never miss it.
Charles: Yeah. Mom hardly ever opens that drawer. She hasn’t missed it at all. She could care less. One last hit and then I’m done for good. This time is the last!
Heroin took my son’s brain hostage. In less than 5 minutes, Charles helped me understand what addiction was.
9 thoughts on “How heroin talked to Charles”
I Have so much to say to you as a woman who is tuff enough to over stuff as it were. The Grief writes me a love letter was powerful and I have copied it and hope to figure out how to replace child with another word that will e more applicable for someone who needs it at their time of loss. It is beautiful and the entire series I wish I had access to 35 years ago when my sister was murdered in France while attending Law school. In the picture above I noticed right away a ay silver. I almost cried when I realized its significance, so many hopes and dreams summed up in that one picture. Thank you.
After spending hours here I cannot seem to find the right area to ask this question – as a 64 year old female living in chronic pain for the last 24 years and with no family left or friends, because let’s face it one has to participate in a friendship, what words of wisdom might you have to prevent my own suicide? The pain has become intolerable and Drs are loath to prescribe more pain killers. I cannot think of one person who will attend my funeral and they live 3.5 hours away. In fact, the only reason for them to drive up is to see the opening of the grave and take care of the obituary. As a teen, I somehow got it into my head that I will never go to a nursing home and really believe that taking my own life is an honorable thing to do. I look forward to your reply and thank you in advance. Cheers
What worked for me was several things. But I suspect you have a lot of unresolved grief and I know connection is a great preventive of suicide. So I would suggest a grief group of some kind if you have that there where you live. Let me know the area where you live and I can look. Griefshare has grief groups. Also consider a NAMI peer support group. That’s where you build connections that prevent suit and give your life meaning. Because that’s where I found it. And by building a community here of people whose lives are not perfect. Let me know if that helps.
Anne thanks for sharing! Your Transparency will change someone’s life love it .Keep letting your light shine🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿
Thank you so much Tony. I appreciate it. Like you, I want others to understand it. Education is the key to eradicating stigma
Loss of “things” can Cloud what matters. It has taken me a long time to donate, let go or store things that don’t bring me joy right now. It is a decision. The memories remain so I have been finding other ways to honor them! I have a soup ladel that is 100 years old from great-grandparents. Found a way to hang it and put a fresh air fern in it. That way, joy replaces bitterness….
I could have gone back and gotten my silver but I never did. I did go get his computer. It was his so it was important to me. Maybe I could find out some answers from that. Funny how you sort out what means a lot to you and what doesn’t. I like your soup ladle solution. Thanks for commenting and I think you must have lost your child, too? I lost my son to suicide as a result of depression and addiction.
I really appreciated this. I lost my daughter to heroin. I’ve had people make insinuations that I must not have been a very good parent, and that is why my daughter got addicted. She graduated Cum laude from college. She was an outstanding artist and everyone loved her. But still I am the one who is judged. I hope that people will learn that addiction can touch anyone. It’s a disease just like diabetes or cancer. It’s random. It can touch your life to even if you never touched a drug in your life. All you have to do is love someone who is an addict. Then you will know that there is little you have done to cause the catastrophe that follows. Then you’ll know the hopelessness of knowing that there isn’t much you can do to stop the insanity other than just love the addict.
My 12 piece place setting was pawned for probably nothing..i almost killed my son when i opened my silver drawer and there was nothing in it..it was my grandmothers and wedding gifts..all gone…lots of silver i inherited that was not out in the open is gone…i dont miss the silver as much as the memories it reminded me of people i loved…
I can understand that. After he died I had to let it go. I could’ve gone back and bought it back but we decided not to. We did get some things back out of pawn but not the silver. It was in so many different places