Basic HTML Version
10 |
drinkanddrugsnews
| December 2013
Adfam/DDN conference |
Families First
www.drinkanddrugsnews.com
H
annah’s struggle to overcome her drug addiction has been a very
testing time – often heartbreaking, frequently frustrating and even at
times surreal. It has had a great impact on all the family and changed
us forever. My younger daughter dropped out of school, my marriage
broke up, illness and money problems soon followed. Drug addiction
doesn’t just affect the lives of the addict but also those close to them.
Hannah is 26 and this struggle has been going on for over half of her short
life. It began at 13 with anorexia, bulimia, self-harming and alcohol; from there it
was a short step into the world of drug addiction. The descent was rapid and
devastating and by the time she was 18 she was addicted to heroin.
At the time, my knowledge of drugs, and heroin in particular, was extremely
limited. I knew it was dangerous, and that we should teach our children to ‘just
say no’ and that advocating an abstinence policy was the way forward. My
assumption that those who used drugs chose their lifestyle and somehow
deserved to be sitting begging on the streets or selling the
Big Issue
was typical
of many people’s. I now know I knew nothing at all about drug addiction.
What I subsequently discovered is that many drug users are messy, damaged,
chaotic individuals with very complex needs. Yet time and time again while trying
to help my daughter I found the treatment available to her was piecemeal,
complicated and punitive. Those who use drugs cannot be fitted into neat
bureaucratic systems and there are no easy ‘one size fits all’ solutions.
After a period of almost two years of being clean, Hannah relapsed last
summer. I was devastated as I could predict the vicious downward spiral of
disease, degradation and crime she would inevitably be sucked into. I also knew
the destructive impact this would have on her sister and me. Straightaway the
trust between us was broken. We could no longer leave handbags lying around,
I hid all my valuable jewellery, I changed the locks on my flat. I hated doing this,
but I knew what would happen if I didn’t.
The lies started, the money ran out. Moneylenders circled and drew Hannah
in. Finally when the source of funding ran dry, the crime and prostitution began,
swiftly followed by illness and overdoses. It was all too depressingly familiar. The
relationship between us reached an all-time low on Christmas Day when I refused
to pay for another hit. I was damned if I helped her and damned if I didn’t.
Kate McKenzie tells of
the seismic effect of her
daughter’s addiction
SUPPORTING ROLE
Hannah’s appearance in court earlier this year was one of many, and
highlighted how punishing those who use drugs is a pointless exercise. Hannah
was already in debt to moneylenders to the tune of £10,000 – a further £1,000
fine for stealing goods worth £30 was not going to achieve any positive outcome.
Fortunately, simply because I was there, I convinced the duty solicitor to argue
her case. The judge was sympathetic and she was given a 12-month discharge.
I know very well that this would not have been the case for many others in a
similar situation.
I asked myself what would make a difference to Hannah’s predicament and also
to the many others trapped, like her, in this all too familiar cycle of addiction and
recovery. I came to two conclusions. Out of all her addictions – anorexia, bulimia,
alcoholism to name a few – her drug addiction is the only one that is criminalised.
If Hannah had been able to be stabilised on prescribed heroin, then her need
to find £20 for the next fix simply wouldn’t exist. Her benefit money would
continue to be used for food, not heroin. She would still be able to pay her rent
and not be made homeless. She would not have to shoplift and steal.
On a personal level, it would remove so much of the anxiety and worry that I felt
as soon as she relapsed. The trust would remain between us and the arguments
over money for the next fix would cease. Most importantly though, the control and
provenance of her drugs would be in the hands of doctors, not dealers. All the harm
caused by black market heroin would be reduced considerably.
I know that prescribing heroin is not the only solution to this problem, but used
in conjunction with other holistic forms of treatment and rehabilitation it makes
sense to me. To allow Hannah to be stabilised on the drug of her choice,
administered in a safe environment, would enable her to have more control of her
recovery.
The second conclusion I came to concerns changing the focus of the treatment
onto the cause of her addiction and not the symptoms. Hannah had been diagnosed
as bipolar from quite a young age, leading to bouts of mania and depression.
Because she is on heroin, no NHS psychiatrist will go near her. Their response is to
say that until she comes off heroin they cannot treat her, yet she uses the drug to
cope with her mental illness and so is caught in a catch-22 situation.
Some years ago she had a manic episode and attacked my younger daughter
with the kitchen knives. I managed to calm her down and not knowing where else
to go, I took her to A&E. After many hours waiting, the young doctor appeared and
apologetically explained there was nothing he could do. The duty psychiatrist
refused to be called out because Hannah was on drugs, so he suggested I took
her home and hid the knives.
By contrast, her current treatment within the French health system has been
a revelation. In April, Hannah went to stay with my sister in France in an attempt
to detox. While there, she became severely dehydrated and was taken to
‘It breaks my heart and
also makes me angry to see
my daughter being treated
as a criminal... Underneath
I know there is a vulnerable
damaged woman who
struggles to cope...’
KATE MCKENZIE