FAMILIES OF DRUG ABUSERS SUFFER, TOO

My wife, Ann, and I had not heard from our son, Jon, that weekend, so I
drove to his condo in Cobb County after work on Monday.

As I approached the parking lot, I saw people gathered outside the condo.
Yellow tape extended from the condo around his car, parked in front. The
door was open and for a moment I thought there had been a fire.

Then a very young police officer said to me, "I don't know how to tell you
this. Your son is dead." He also shared that he was new on the force and had
never handled a situation like this.

He literally didn't know just what to say. Very soon I would be thinking the
same thing. What would I say to my wife?

An experienced detective explained that Jon had apparently died from using a
combination of heroin and cocaine and that it did not appear to be a
suicide. This was the third drug-related death he had investigated in two
days.

Next the county coroner gave me his card and advised me that I would need to
call the next morning and provide the name of the funeral home to claim his
body, which they would soon remove from the condo.

He discouraged me from coming in to view my son's body. I watched as the
body was rolled out and driven away in a county van. It happened so fast.

The drive home was consumed with thinking about what to say to Ann. She
looked toward me as I walked into the den, and I said, "Ann, Jon is dead."
Like the young officer, I didn't know what else I could say.

The next few days were consumed with the funeral service, contacting family
and friends and addressing necessary details. The outpouring of cards,
calls, flowers, food, visits and support from friends, some of whom drove to
Atlanta from Ohio, was extremely comforting and helpful.

Jon, age 35, was an excellent employee and well thought of by many people.
He also had a terrible problem that haunted him for 20 years --- substance
abuse.

There were years when he was clean and sober; the last year was not one of
them, as he became addicted to heroin.

We put him in treatment for a year, but at 18 he could decide for himself.
He pursued treatment again and, thankfully, it did lead to a long period of
sobriety.

People who abuse substances draw a great deal of attention to themselves.
But we don't hear much from the family members; they are the silent
majority, as there are far more of them than there are substance abusers.

Maybe there is still a stigma or certainly embarrassment about substance
abuse in families. Many substance abusers have moved past this and have
become very public about their problem. It's time for families to do the
same.

People asked us what they could do to help. Too many people die from
drug-related deaths, just as too many die from cancer. For the latter, we
keep pursuing better treatment, prevention and educational approaches that
might affect the problem. We must do the same for substance abuse. We can't
give up.

Families of substance abusers must break the silence and advocate for
recognition and validation of just how adversely they are affected, and for
better approaches to providing them support and help.

Jan Ligon of Cobb County is a professor of social work at Georgia State
University.