Dying to Survive (30 page)

The one person with whom I haven’t been able to build bridges is my father, perhaps because we never had a real relationship in the first place, but I met him not so long ago and we talked. I wanted closure and to hear in his own words why he wasn’t there when I was a child. I was expecting him to point the finger at others, but he took full responsibility: ‘I couldn’t be there for personal reasons and I had to abide by that,’ he told me, no doubt referring to the barring order which my family took out against him and which I knew about. ‘But I always thought about you and wanted to see you. I’m here for you now,’ he finished. But this wasn’t enough for me—isn’t enough. Too much damage has been done.

One person who reminds me how far I’ve come is my friend Neil. It broke my heart to leave him behind in active addiction, and I wasn’t willing to walk away without trying to help him first. He got clean not so long after me and he now lives in India with his mother. We are still best friends and he never lets me forget where I’m coming from. I’ve also made some really good friends since coming clean. My friend Chris made his way back from his relapse and he spends most of his time travelling the world trying to spread the message of recovery. He is still one of my most trusted friends. Myself and Declan are still very close. He is now a qualified psychotherapist who works with active drug users and is someone I am blessed to have as a friend. But I have yet to meet anyone like Patrick. All through his addiction I still loved him dearly. I tried to help him in any way that I could but without putting myself in danger. I can never take from Patrick the love that he has for his son or the encouragement that he always gave me to keep moving forward even though he was stuck with the drugs. I still love and cherish him and always will.

After a long battle with his addiction, Patrick is now drug-free and on the road to recovery. He has crawled his way back from active addiction and is living with his sister, who was one of my biggest supports all through Patrick’s relapse. She knew exactly what I was going through and she was always there to let me know that I was never alone.

I am now in college studying psychotherapy and counselling and working towards getting a degree. I have no idea what I would like to do in the future, but it involves giving back in some form or another. Going into schools and giving talks to children about the dangers of drugs is something that I do regularly. I find this work to be so rewarding. I still have a strong feeling of loyalty towards
NA
and I attend meetings almost every week. If not for myself, then for others.
NA
has taught me almost everything I know. And the most important thing I try to implement in my life is the constant thought of others. It’s not always easy when you have spent fourteen years thinking about nobody but yourself. But I try my best. Having a baby doesn’t give me the leisure to be selfish. And I thank God for this. Senán is the most precious, beautiful gift that I have ever been given and most days he keeps me going. In the beginning of my recovery doing the right things was alien to me. But now, after going against the grain every day, doing the right things is mostly instinctive for me. I have learned the hard way that addiction has nothing to do with the drugs. It is something that is still with me even now and I can never underestimate its power. The day that I stop being true to myself will be the day that I go back using drugs. Every day I do my best to apply spiritual principles to my life: acceptance, honesty, faith and lots of laughter. For now, I can safely say that I am living a life beyond my wildest dreams.

COPYRIGHT PERMISSIONS

Page 40: ‘It’s ’orrible being in love when you’re 8½’ words and music by Dheverani Coleman © 1986, reproduced by permission of
EMI
Music Publishing Ltd, London w8 5
SW
.

Page 44: ‘Wild World’ words and music by Yusuf Islam © 1970, reproduced by permission of
EMI
Music Publishing Ltd, London w8 5
SW
.

Page 63: ‘Narcotic Influence’ by Empirion, written by Morsley, published by
AMV
Talpa GmbH, reproduced by permission of Reverb XL.

The author and publisher have made every effort to trace all copyright holders, but if any has been inadvertently overlooked we would be pleased to make the necessary arrangement at the first opportunity.

CONTACTS

Cenacolo Community
, tel 094 9388 286,

email
[email protected]

Coolmine
Therapeutic Community, Headquarters, Coolmine House, 19 Lord Edward Street, Dublin 1, tel 01 679 4822, email
[email protected]
,
www.coolmine.ie

Cuan Dara
, Drug Detoxification Unit, Cherry Orchard Hospital, Ballyfermot, Dublin 10, tel 620 6050, fax 623 5835

Keltoi
, St Mary’s Hospital, Phoenix Park, Dublin 20, tel 01 620 0040

Peter McVerry Trust
, Head Office, 29 Mountjoy Square, Dublin 1, tel 01 823 0776, fax 01 823 0778, email
[email protected]
,
www.pmvtrust.ie

Rutland Centre
, Knocklyon Road, Templeogue, Dublin 16, tel 01 494 6358, fax 01 494 6444, email
[email protected]
,
www.rutlandcentre.ie

Soilse
, 1–2 Henrietta Place, off North King Street, Dublin 1, tel 872 4922, fax 872 4891, email
[email protected]

Victory Outreach
, Unit 11/12 Westlink Industrial Estate, Kylemore Road, Ballyfermot, Dublin 10, tel 01 623 9383, fax 623 9390, email
[email protected]
,
www.victoryoutreachdublin.ie

1979. This is my christening photo, the one that my mother, Lynda, tore up. My father should be standing beside my auntie Jacqueline (
right
)—but my mother didn’t want me to know who he was.

1986. This is me on my communion day, young, bright and with everything to live for. Little did I know what lay ahead.

1986. With my grandmother Theresa and my brother, Philip. Philip was only a few months old, and I was still trying to get used to the idea of having a brother.

1986. (
Left to right
) My uncle Laurence, my grandfather John and my other uncle Jonathan, taken at my auntie Marion’s wedding.

1987. Me and my teddy. When I look at this picture, I wonder how on earth did I go from being so sweet and innocent—to a full-blown heroin addict.

1987. With my brother, Philip. I just loved it when he came to visit. We would spend most of our time playing together.

My brother, Philip, and I again, spending time in my grandparents’ garden. I missed him when I was on drugs. But now that I am drug-free we are the best of friends.