I know several people who have battled addictions, some more successfully than others.  They started using for a variety of reasons:  to control pain, out of curiosity, peer pressure, or just to forget about other problems they found too overwhelming to deal with at the time.

A person very dear to my heart became addicted to heroin in the 1960s while he was in the Navy.  Even though I was little, I have vivid memories of him carrying around a Bobby Vinton album, holding on to it with both hands.  I found out years later that that was where he kept his stash.

I also remember him getting the monkey off his back.  He and my father went into our basement, and although we heard all kinds of strange noises, nobody upstairs saw either one of them for about three days.  I wasn’t allowed to go down to see my Dad, and I was confused and frightened by what was happening.

Fortunately, resources are available now that were unheard of back then.  If you or someone you know and love is suffering from addiction, please call for help.  My story has a happy ending, fortunately, but far too many do not.