Tim and I met in 2001. Actually, we didn't "meet" per se, but were traveling in the same social circles. BIG circles, with lots of people and tons of activities going on around us. I met his best friend first. A recovering heroin addict, Mike. Mike had been clean for a couple of years, and had the world at his feet. He was smart, semi-attractive (if you like a guy who's hair was so long it almost touched his waist). He had a personality that was kind, generous, and sincere. He was a no-nonsense kinda man. He always told you like it was, whether you wanted to hear it or not. And even if you didn't want to hear it, he always put it in a way that made it hard for you to bear a resentment against him. And he was never short on the humor. Always had something funny to say.....always. Even when delivering bad news, he always put a funny spin on it for you.
I use all of the above descriptions of Mike in the past tense, not because he died, but because he began to use again. And our hearts were broken. Immediately gone was his zest for life, his humor, his generosity and your love for being around him. We knew almost from the day he began using again. Almost anyway. My first clue was an evening he spent with Tim and I and my youngest son, Ty. Tyler was about 5 at the time and absolutely adored Mike. Upon hearing that Mike would be coming over, Ty's anticipation was almost contagious. He would immediately set up our living room for an evening of fun with Mike. Games, books, movies, and his decision on whether we should make popcorn or just put out potato chips.
One night, not unlike every other night he came over, as soon as Mike walked thru our door, he seemed almost angry. He was antsy, tense, talking a mile a minute, and complaining about everyone and everything is his life at that moment. Unusual for sure. But what definitely gave it away was his lack of patience regarding my son. He was blowing my son off, answering him in a huffed type of aggravation. He was getting angry if our son interrupted him. And of course, a child being a child, didn't read the signs too well. So he persisted on his attempts to have Mike come down on the floor to wrestle, play a game, watch a movie, etc. And as every attempt was shot down, he wasn't getting the hint. And as a 4 year old will sometimes do, his frustration at being ignored became apparent.... So the more Mike said no, the louder the requests seemed to get. Until my son was so confused and taken back that he began to cry. And instead of Mike trying to understand, he snapped. He yelled at my son. Actually Y-E-L-L-E-D!
So of course, Mama Bear's claws emerged. You see, I really never knew an active heroin addict. All the addicts I knew at the time were either clean, getting clean, or trying to get clean. And there is always humility present in the addict seeking or continuing their sobriety. Here, there was clearly no humility. There were no apologies. He left soon afterwards, leaving me and the boy quite confused. Until Tim clued me in. He knew Mike in his active addictions and recognized the signs and tried to explain it to me. Between the anger of the Mama Bear and the Baby Bear's obvious pain, I wasn't quite ready to accept that a man could go from being a dream come true playmate for a 4 year old to an angry son-of-a-bitch so quickly. There HAD to be more to it than just using, right? Wrong.
Sadly, we never saw our fun-loving Mike again. We have occasionally run into the S.O.B. Mike in the past 5 years. We even opened our hearts and home to him during his occasional half-assed attempts at getting clean again. But his clean time never amounted to anything more than putting a few days together, every few months or so.
I even vouched for him to my Suboxone doctor, hoping that might help. It didn't do anything more than give him a Rx which allowed him to use heroin and then comfortably withdraw until his next paycheck to buy more heroin. Vicious cycle, as the addict knows. I never used Suboxone to withdraw comfortably, just so that I could use oxy's later on in the week. It never even entered my mind to think that way. Not because I was more honest than Mike was. I guess I was just that desperate to stop using. And after so many attempts of going thru the withdrawals of the oxys, I don't think that I EVER fully withdrew from them. The pain always became too much for me to bear. So even if I was at day 3 of w/d, knowing it would only be another few days, I never quite got there. Until I was introduced to the Suboxone. And for as "the easy way out" as some might call it, it couldn't have been all that easy if I still have no desire to take oxy's til this day. Hopefully, I was just that sick. I know that makes sense to some of you.
The reason that I bring up Mike tonight is because it had occurred to me throughout Tim's fathers' viewings these past 2 days, that Mike never came to pay his respects. And I was saddened by all that the heroin has taken from him (and us) in the process of his active addiction. It has taken away his common sense, his morals, his ability to do the right thing in one of the darkest times of his best friends life......... Heroin has taken from us one of the most upstanding, moral, and supportive individuals that Tim has ever known. It has taken away his shoulder to lean on when things get tough. It has taken away from him the Mike we know is in there....somewhere. It has taken away not only my son's playmate, but also a trust that only an innocent child could have. From that night almost 5 years ago, until this very day, Ty has NEVER again asked for Mike. Because Mike scared him that much. I don't think it was so much that Mike yelled at him. Believe me, my son has been yelled at before that night, and many times afterwards. I think his fear comes from the lack of understanding how someone who was ALWAYS a friend could possible turn on him. I think the sudden switch of Good Mike to Using Mike was just too much for his little mind to comprehend. Sad isn't it? And if Ty felt so traumatized by that one incident, just imagine how children of active heroin users feel every day of their lives. The fear of the unknown. Never quite sure which "Mom" or "Dad" they will find when they walk thru that door from school. Imagine the fear of waking up in a bed, in a house where they are supposed to feel loved, safe and secure. But they have no idea what "Mom" or "Dad" will be at the breakfast table that particular morning....... Heartbreaking.
Sitting there tonight, the last night for family and friends to pay their respects to Tim's Dad, I was almost praying to God that Mike would show up, using or not using. I almost didn't care if he walked in, slurring his words, nodding in a chair, not caring whether anyone saw the fresh track marks. I almost didn't care if it was "Good Mike" or "Using Mike". I just wanted him there, for Tim, at any price. Until I realized that perhaps Mike had some morals left after all. I wondered if perhaps Mike knew that showing up, in a drug induced haze, would only have left Tim feeling somehow worse than he was already feeling. And maybe Mike did have some common sense left. And maybe Mike cared that much.
So as I began to pray for God's will, not mine, be done in came my the answer to my prayers. No, it was not a clean and sober Mike. No, it was not a slurring, nodding idiot, muttering useless regrets. But in walked the other men in Tim and Mike's circle of old friends. Friends from as far as 2 states away, coming to pay their respects. They came for Tim. I was so happy to see those guys walk in, you would have thought they were all there to see me. And as I watched them all take turns hugging the love of my life, I overheard something really special. As each one hugged Tim, they each told him that they learned of his father's death from Mike. He called each and every one of them to let them know that his best friend was in pain. And he had the decency to send them to him, at one of his darkest times. So although his addiction did not allow him to be there, his love for Tim allowed him to do the next best thing. He sent all the sobriety he could find. He sent "the boys".
And for the first time in almost 5 years, I thought of Mike with a smile. And my hope for him was renewed...............
Labels: Addiction, Common Sense, Heroin, Hope, Oxycontin, Sober, Suboxone, Ty
