Dread of door knock

Press, 30 August 1989, Page 21

Dread of door knock

SUZANNE KEEN

talks with two mothers who have suffered with their drug-addicted sons

Parents are often the forgotten party in tales of drug abuse. They suffer as much trauma as the addicts themselves, and in many cases more. Although parents are expected to provide never-ending support for their children, there are few agencies or groups providing support for the parents.

A recent seminar on adolescent substance abuse in Christchurch was attended by about 160 people, including parents, grandparents and other members of fami-

lies affected by the problem.

They were told that Christchurch organisations dealt with between 300 and 400 adolescent substance abusers each month. The parent of a drug abuser told how her son’s addiction threw her life into chaos, and how important the support she received from other parents was.

The story of Sandy (who prefers that her surname is pot used) is told here, along with the story of Lyn Smith.

SANDY HAS spent much of the last seven years waiting for the knock on the door that would deliver the news her son was dead. Months devoid of contact with him were punctuated by latenight collect calls from across the country. Desperate pleas for help from a drug-crazed youth made the previous not-knowing seem a blissful state. It was a mother-son relationship based on all give and no thanks. Sandy poured more and more money into Nigel in the hope that he would stay alive and be well-fed.

In reality, the money fed only his habit.

Nigel was a poly-drug abuser from the age of 13. Now 20, he has been clean for almost a year and intends to stay that way. While Nigel cannot remember huge periods of the last seven years, there is much his mother cannot forget. For most of Nigel’s childhood, Sandy was a solo parent. In her eagerness to ensure his happiness, she gave him anything he wanted. No limits were ever set on his behaviour.

Sandy says Nigel was a serious but caring youngster, the type that was always bringing home stray animals or kids. When he was only nine, he decided on his own initiative to join a march protesting against the Springbok rugby tour. Unfortunately, this was about the same time he decided to stop going to school. "I probably spent only about six months out of every year at secondary school and intermediate,” says Nigel. ‘'Even the truant officers gave up. When I was nine or 10, I would stay home watching ‘Days of Our Lives.’” Because Sandy was working, it was some time before she caught up with her son’s tricks. It was even longer before she discovered he was on drugs.

“I didn’t know until he was about 15. You know something is not right, but you close your mind to it.”

Nigel says the drugs and. alcohol were freely available through his friends and their older siblings. When he came home on a high, his mother put it down to drunkenness.

“He began leaving clues like syringes and chemist prescription pads that he told me belonged to friends,” says Sandy. “I think that in some ways he wanted me to know and to do something about it.” Nigel, relaxed in the living room of his mother’s house, nods his head in agreement — “I was on a negative attention trip.” Other attention grabbers included tattoos and a Mohawk haircut. An image still vivid in Sandy’s mind is arriving home to

see Nigel having his head completely shaved on the patio. “I just stood in the driveway and screamed,” she says.

While Nigel was a teenager, the police were among his mother’s most frequent visitors. At 13, he was picked up for the possession of a knife at school. At 15, he was charged with a chemist shop burglary. Sandy even accompanied her son to the police staion for fingerprinting. On a flashback from LSD, Nigel once bashed holes in his mother’s newly-wallpapered walls with a walking cane. When Sandy and her husband came home, Nigel could not remember his actions. As usual Sandy protected him. She says she never felt angry, just hurt. In another episode, a drugged Nigel terrified her with his ani-mal-like behaviour and his mad certainty that snakes were coming out of his face. At 17, mainly due to police pressure, Nigel simply disappeared from his mother’s life.

“He had been away for four months before I found out where he was,” she says. “I should have realised he was out of town because the police hadn’t been ringing up and none of his friends had called.

“I wasn’t really that interested in looking for him. It was like a holiday, because there was no hassles.”

When Sandy did hear from her son again, he was in Mt Crawford Prison awaiting a court appearance after being found in possession of a knife.

She was so concerned that he could receive a jail sentence that she signed over the house she was living in, but did not own, as surety for the bail. “I just held my breath that he wouldn’t slip off,” she says. Fortunately Nigel stayed around for the court hearing and ended up on a drugs maintenance programme. It was not the first time a member of the family had stood on the line for him — an aunt once signed over her car as surety to keep him out of prison. Before long, he had left the drugs programme and was back on his mother’s doorstep. “I was pleased to see him when he returned to Christchurch because he was alive,” says Sandy. "Everything started off fine with him living with me for two weeks and then it was back into the same old scene.” Nigel found a girlfriend' and

the pair both began living in Sandy’s home. At this time, Sandy’s second marriage was in difficulty, with her husband suggesting they take a stronger stance with Nigel. One day, Sandy arrived home to find both Nigel and his girlfriend injecting themselves with drugs in her living room. They even asked her to help.

Nigel admits now that his world revolved around drugs and everything else was merely a convenience.

“It was wrecking my life, too,” says Sandy. “I was nursing fulltime and my husband and I were just in one permanent battle.” When things had almost reached breaking point, Nigel disappeared again. This time, he and his girlfriend went to Auckland.

Nigel was using about 200 mg of valium each day, but his system had become so resistant to the drug that he was drinking alcohol as well to “get out of it.” After taking the daily dose plus some barbiturates and “purple death” (a wine concoction), he decided to go to Carrington Hospital, seeking admission.

On arrival at the hospital, he lost control. The police were called and Nigel threatened an officer with a knife, landing himself in court again. After being released, he rang his mother in desperation fromKarangahape Road, this time threatening to commit suicide unless he received help. “I said ‘well, do it’,” says Sandy. “I couldn’t cope any longer — I couldn’t afford to fly up there.” After several sleepless nights, Sandy was greatly relieved when she received a letter soon after from Odyssey House in Auckland. It said that Nigel had admitted himself.

“I was rapt when I got the letter from Odyssey to say he had entered the programme and was doing well. Then, God help me, six or seven weeks later I got another letter saying he had left against medical advice. It wasn’t long before he arrived back on my doorstep.” Nigel says that by this time his motivation to do something had increased, partly because he had no money. He went to a detoxification programme in Christchurch.

He then went to Odyssey, dropped out after 214 months then returned for a further seven months.

A few months ago, he left the programme again. “I became disillusioned,” he said. "I didn’t feel the programme was working for me. I don’t think I will go back, but I won’t go back on to the drugs either.”

Since he left Odyssey the last time, Nigel has not touched even alcohol.

In spite of past disappointments, Sandy shares his enthusiasm for the future.

She says it has been wonderful watching him regain his health and turn into a "normal human being” again. “I have no doubt he will stay alcohol and drugfree. I have a lot of confidence in him. “He’s a good man — intelligent and a brilliant artist. I think that’s what upset me most about the drugs. It was such a waste.”

Sandy believes one thing which kept her sane during the long three-way battle with Nigel and the drugs was “parental telepathy.” At night, she could

frequently hear him calling her in her sleep. Within four hours a telephone call would let her know what had happened to him. “If I hadn’t heard from him, I knew he must be okay.”

Although Sandy and Nigel both agree that parents cannot be blamed for a young person’s drug addiction, Sandy stresses that she now realises it is important not to support a drug abuser financially. “I have probably spent thosands supporting Nigel, but the first thing I would say to other parents now is never give them money. Tell them that you love them and care about them, but say that it is their life.” Nigel used to steal money from his mother. He once sold

her record collection to get cash for drugs.

“They are totally self-centred and destructive to themselves and others,” says Sandy. Nigel has always been the centre of his mother’s life. Like any parent, she dreamed when he was a child that they would have a wonderful life. In hindsight she thinks there should be much more training for parenthood.

It still disturbs Sandy greatly that both she and Nigel have missed out on his growing up. “I do consider myself one of the lucky ones in that Nigel is now well. We have still got a lot to work on, but I will always be his Mum and I hope he will always want me to be his Mum.”

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