Am I Worse than a Drug Dealer?

I read an article the other morning which included the following quote, “parents who enable drug-addicted offspring are worse than the drug dealers.” It caused me to stop in mid-sentence and reflect. It stirred some raw emotions. Are parents who have an addicted child truly that complicit in the addiction that they are worse than drug dealers? While I accept a degree of responsibility for Brian’s addiction I have to ask how much does society as a whole share in this burden. Where do these drugs come from? Why are they so easy to get? Why is it ok to shun and shame an addict? Who or where can a parent go to get help? Is there a training program or a well-established support network? What does it mean to enable? So many questions that could both my wife and I have asked, the majority of which are out of the hands of parents but not only out of our hands, they are the purview of organizations in a system that has chosen to vilify rather than love, to address the issue in ignorance rather than from a position of knowledge. The problem is that the majority of the policy makers have zero understanding of the crisis and thus, it becomes merely an issue of fiscal considerations fraught with typical DC corruption.

Brian’s got his start in and the primary pipeline for drugs was his high school. Is that the parent’s fault? In many of our schools these days there is a complete absence of accountability – no one wants to hear that there is a problem of this nature on their campus. Parents can try to push the system but, far to often they are dismissed with comments such as “that could never happen at my school” or “our security officer has a good handle on illicit matters.” By the time parents can make any inroads their beyond this aspect and are full in on the fight, they must redirect their efforts and the schools can continue living in their fantastical world of unicorns and rainbows. This is just one example of the myriad of aspects contributing to the universe of drug addiction.

It is clear the author never had to tell someone, who was not a close friend, that their child was an addict. The guilt and shame that society foists on parents is an exceptionally heavy burden — but that I suppose is the parents fault as they are choosing to allow their child to be an addict. It is clear that the author never had to work through the health care and social systems to find a rehabilitation program that truly worked — again this is surely the parents fault.

The author clearly never had to deal with a weeping child that looked you straight in the eye and confessed saying, “I don’t want to be like this, this is not who I am.” While and initial choice may have been made, at some point in the addiction, the addict can no longer decide not to indulge. Their brains have changed and it takes a long, long time to rewire them. The author reflects all the bad that is endemic in society. It is too easy to blame parents and addicts. Too easy to put them in a box and isolate them as a problem that you have nothing to do with. If I can blame them then I am clean, without worry, I am righteous. I wonder if she ever illegally smoked some weed or perhaps used cocaine or a prescription drug? If so, she is part of the problem. At close to 80,000 deaths a year, drug addiction is a societal scourge and it is cowardly to dump this on parents. Drug dealers know from the beginning what the impact of their sale will be. Parents usually don’t know there is a problem until it is a PROBLEM. Lots of reasons for that but, at that point a parent is reacting and they have to react to more than just the addiction, they have to react to society’s ignorance as demonstrated by this author.

Brain and I share in the responsibility that resulted in his death. It was a very exhausting and terrifying journey. One that reshaped me. I would never wish the loss of a child on anyone. Perhaps, those that advocate this type of non-sense should do some self-reflection and perhaps compare their actions to that of a drug dealer, indifference, unsympathetic, devoid of empathy, hostile and in denial of their contributions in the war on drugs.

I love my son!! I am not worse than a drug dealer.