View Full Version : Drug Addiction And Abuse

04-12-11, 11:06 AM
Drugs were everywhere in the '70s and '80s. Nobody cared much about drug use Drugs were just a way to make friends. I have done them for more than twenty years. I never got in much trouble, but I was one of the lucky ones. Also, I didn't fry my mind like so many of my friends who because of drugs gotten killed by accidents or who killed themselves.

Drug addiction is a slow process; it takes about six months. And believe me, addiction never ever goes away, and only when you hit bottom can you truly understand. Here is a story about my brother Jamal and me. I became the care taker for my younger brother Jamal. He always looked up to me. Maybe he thought I was a good role model, but that was far from the truth. I was no angel, I was using drugs even while I was being a caretaker. Jamal, as a youngster, was as normal as a kid could be. I never told him about my drug use. I had a hell of a lot of problems of my own, but they were my problems. My brother, however, really screwed up his mind on LSD, meth, pot, or any drug he could get his hands on.

Back when I was about eighteen years old, my father called me from Florida and asked me to let Jamal stay with me. I, of course, said no way! I didn't want the responsibility, he was not my problem and I had my own life. Two weeks later, Dad called back and told me he was going to put Jamal in a mental institution. Then I really had no choice but to try to help. Boy that was a big mistake!

I picked Jamal up at the airport and we drove back to my house. I told him he would have to get a job. He was sixteen years old and thought he was a man. I had a roommate named Greg who liked to party and did not care what happened. His stepfather was killed by Greg's older brother over drugs and was in jail for seven years. Greg and I partied as much as possible, which was not a good example for Jamal. My father should have known better, although I did try to steer Jamal in the right direction.

I came home one day after work and found out that my brother had gotten my roommate a large amount of cocaine. When Jamal was in high school, drugs were easy to for him to obtain, and he had maintained his connections. That was when things got out of control. I could not stop the downfall of Jamal. He started to do any and every drug he could find. I could see he could not handle it. I couldn't stop him no matter what I said. God knows I tried for twenty years. Finally, my dad came back from Florida, and he and I took Jamal down to Nevada, Missouri, to the Hartland Hospital. After a month and some thirty thousand dollars later, he came home.

He stayed sober for a short time, but soon went back to his old tricks. He would yell at my mother when she would not give him money. My mom loved him so much that she would always cave in and give it to him. This supported his drug habit and he would get worse. I did try to tell Mom and Dad what they were doing by always giving him money, but they said that I was the only one with a drug problem. I always worked and most of the time stayed out of trouble and didn't yell at my mother. I did have a drug and alcohol problem, but for some reason I had better control.

Over and over my parents would have Jamal arrested and then after being released, they would let him come back home again. But when he tried to hurt my mother, he did a year in jail. In jail, he got better. While he was in jail, he got his certified medical technician certification. I didn't like that because he would be giving out drugs to old folks, but I didn't want to give up on him or let my mother and father down. It was one hell of a burden, but I thought I could help. I was very wrong. I was not a good role model, and drugs were stronger.

He got in an accident and totaled his car while doing meth. Police also found a very large bag of pills that he had gotten from his job. He had fallen asleep at the wheel. After that, I supported him for two years. He never went back to work. He learned that if he acted crazy, he could go on disability. He played the system like Mozart. After he attacked me countless times, I had to give up. I had my own problems with my back and I was tired of all the crap. The drugs were much stronger than I was, but no one can say I didn't try my best. I gave up a lot, like a wife and kids and happiness, but I thought that was what families were for. Nobody really can understand how much effort I put into helping my brother, but mostly I did it for my mother and father.

Whoever said drugs don't screw up your life should just look at my brother. He just sleeps in my mom and dad's basement waiting for his check so he can get high again. That is not living. That is just existing. What a wasted life, and it all started with pot, LSD, cocaine, and anything that would give him a buzz! Luckily, I have stopped using drugs and now I'm in college. My mother and father are proud of me now. As for my brother Jamal, he is a lost cause. What a waste! Drugs can destroy life very easily.