I was born to my mom and dad in 2004. I am 14 years old. Drug addiction was never really a big issue for me, rather my father. I was born into a healthy family at first. My dad was a photographer who also filmed many of the college football games and my mom was a warehouse designer and manager. After about 6 years of living I started to notice my mom and dad fighting a lot. I listened to a lot of the fights and heard the words addiction, heroin, and stealer. I never understood what they meant, however. The fights became progressively worse. What started to about once a month became once or twice a week now became every single day. My mom and dad never slept in the same room. I usually slept with my mom and my dad slept in my room. I practically lived in my mom’s room in fact. My dad usually came in and out of my life by then. He still lived in our house, we just never saw him. My dad was first arrested when I was in 2nd grade. Only for a week. He was then arrested again. I saw my dad being arrested. I didn’t understand what was happening. I saw my dad against a cop car screaming at my mom and his friend Trent. He came back. One memory that always seems to repeat itself is when my mom and I were in Target. I wore my dad’s hat to Target and I felt something poking me. I took my hat off and hundreds of straws came out of it with a white powder inside them. In the summer of 4th grade, my dad was arrested for good. He was taking me to my summer camp. He got a phone call and the only words I heard was “You have to go to jail again Sean.” I asked him what that meant. He only told me it was a prank call and not to worry about it. My mom picked me up that day which was unusual. She told me daddy is gone. She took me to a restaurant and told me he was arrested. She said he’s not coming back. During the summer of my 5th-grade year, my mom and I went for a run. When we came back my dad was on the porch. My mom told me to wait and she asked what he was doing. He said he’s switching jails and wanted to pick up his stuff. My mom told him to leave. He didn’t. She let him in and I followed. She grabbed his things and kicked him out. The very next day I was greeted by my dad walking in uninvited and trying to take our things. That was the last time I had seen my dad living. In April 2018, my mom got a call from my Aunt. She was hysterical over the phone. She told my mom that my dad died. I asked my mom how he had died and she said “He said he wasn’t feeling good that day. He went down to his basement and started vomiting. He choked on his vomit, fell and hit his head against a pipe and slowly died. We had 2 funerals for him. I spoke for both of them. Now, I am a public speaker and I regularly speak about my issues with depression and addiction in my family. That is my story with addiction.
High School Student from Columbus, Ohio