I've not always been much better. It's hard to turn my attention to something that isn't directly affecting my world at the moment. But then it does, and along with fear and panic, comes the guilt of wishing I hadn't waited until I was drowning to pay attention.
Addiction rocked my world almost 10 years ago when I watched my loved one suffer from the disease. It tore apart my world and my dreams for my family. I had no idea how to help and felt completely lost and overwhelmed. And hurt and frustrated. Hadn't I done everything "right"? Why was this happening?" Questions that I asked over and over. I didn't understand addiction, and wasted a lot of time taking it personally. Simultaneously a close friend began to struggle. I suddenly realized that the disease of addiction was all around me, and I started to wonder why I didn't know or understand more.
A big part of the problem was, and is, the shame associated with addiction. And the shame breeds silence. A suffocating silence so stealth and lethal it prevents family and friends from asking for help - denial laced with humiliation.
We all want to be strong, and in control. And so we don't tell the people around us when we're in trouble. I remember what shocked me the most, as I attempted to organize an intervention for my friend, was her family's response. They coldly thanked me for my concern but could I please mind my own busines. I am sad to say that my friend has never received the help needed. I continue to watch her struggle.
I look at my children and wonder what magic will protect them - I would love to bury my head in the sand and pretend I've done all the "right" things to keep them safe. But the truth is, addiction penetrates even the closest families and the sweetest children. I have openly discussed addiction with my kiddos since they were little. "Protecting" them from these truths only makes them vulnerable. I have to be mindful of my own thoughts of denial - "Kids like mine would never take such risks." But that's just not the case. And so I arm them with information and truth and pray they will know how to make smart choices and then also know how to ask for help when they need it.
We all need to wake up and look at the truths around us. We need to have open, real conversations with each other and with our children. Rolling the dice and waiting to see if this is "your" issue is the worst kind of gambling. Don't be confused - choosing to play pretend and ignore what's happening in our community and to our youth is putting your loved ones at risk.
When Talley Wilford had me read his script "You Can Stay or You Can Go," I knew that it was important. Talley's story chronicles his real-life friendship with Matt Schilling, a great kid who had every opportunity to succeed. Sadly heroin took his young life. Since we have been promoting the project we have met and talked with families whose children were destroyed and taken by heroin. Their grief is palpable, and their only consolation is working towards educating other families. I look at the pictures of their lost children and can't help but cry. That sense of helplessness washes over me, but only for a second. Because working on this project, talking openly and honestly and creating solutions is the anecdote to the struggle our community faces. Our picturesque small towns do not protect our families. This epidemic is in our back yard.
Don't make excuses, take action now. Be a part of the solution. If nothing else, support the people who are.
Click on the link and give what you can and help us do this important work.
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/896538845/you-can-stay-or-you-can-go-a-feature-film
