A letter to my heroin dad:
I’m referring to you as my heroin dad because you aren’t my dad. You’re a monster drug which has taken over my father’s body, and unfortunately I do not remember a time when this was not the case.
The last time you were in prison I wrote a letter similar to this. I told you about how I hoped you’d change, and get a REAL job, and learn from your mistakes. I also told you that if you didn’t, I would never speak to you again.
This letter is a little bit different, because I no longer have any hope. I no longer believe in the man who I once thought existed, the one that heroin did not control. I now know that you will never be the man I’d hoped you’d be.
I was always told that you were not the “real” you when you were high (which was always), and that your actions were not in your control. I learned that this is not true, when you got out of prison.
When you got out, I learned that you were in control of everything you did. You WERE completely clean, YOU decided to go back. YOU made the decision that your daughters and son were not as important as the monster. YOU decided that the high was more important than raising your children.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
I mean, this is probably the reason I cried when I found out you were out of prison. When I found out your two years were cut to only a few months. You called me excited, talking about how you were gonna get a real job — and make real money — but I knew it wasn’t going to happen. I knew that the monster, which was in control of your every thought and action, would not let you free after just a few months.
Today when I found out you got arrested, I was happy. It was a weight lifted off my shoulders. I was going to finally be able to sleep at night, without having to worry about whether I was going to get a call the next day, telling me that the monster had finally taken you away.
I know that being in prison isn’t the best life, but at least you’re alive. And that’s all I need to know. That’s all I care to know.
But instead I get to know what it’s like to watch someone you love become possessed by nothing but a needle. This is what heroin does. Possesses its victim and does not let go until he is dead. It destroys a 16-year-old girl and makes her wonder why her dad isn’t really her dad, but a prisoner. It makes a 4-year-old boy have to grow up without a father. It makes a grandmother have to worry about her son, and the father of her grandchildren. And a 13-year-old girl has to wonder why her dad keeps making promises he will never keep.
I know that this is hard to read, but it is the reality of the drug.
It’s a monster.
This letter was sent to the Beacon Journal by a high school student. While she asked to remain anonymous to protect her family from further hardship, we can tell you that she is a teen from the Akron area who is taking some college courses while in high school. She passionately believes that she can spread awareness about what heroin can do to a family by sharing her story in the Beacon Journal and Ohio.com.