News (Media Awareness Project) - Australia: Survivor's Half-Lifetime Of Hell Distilled To A |
Title: | Australia: Survivor's Half-Lifetime Of Hell Distilled To A |
Published On: | 1999-05-18 |
Source: | Sydney Morning Herald (Australia) |
Fetched On: | 2008-09-06 05:18:22 |
SURVIVOR'S HALF-LIFETIME OF HELL DISTILLED TO A FIVE-MINUTE PLEA
She introduced herself as a daughter, a wife, a mother, a grandmother
and, dressed in a conservative pale suit, hair cropped fashionably
short, only the hint of tears in Ms Kristine French's voice gave her
away.
The manager of the Wollongong Crisis Centre, Ms French, 48, had come
from the South Coast drug treatment centre not to talk about addiction
second-hand but to stand up in the NSW Parliament and tell her own
story of heroin dependence and her long and arduous climb out.
Ms French, with 16 years "clean time" under her belt, and fellow
former user, Mr Joe Latty, 43, who has been drug-free for 20 years,
were each allocated just five minutes' to speak.
In that short time, they managed to convey the plea that drug users be
treated with compassion rather than force, a call more powerful and
poignant than the plethora of experts who preceded them.
It is not easy to stand here and tell you my story," Ms French said,
her voice cracking with emotion, "because of the stigma of heroin use".
"Why did I start? Why did I eventually get clean? Why? It is still all
beyond me ... what I do remember so clearly is my last day of using
... I looked in the mirror and what looked back at me that day scared
me to death."
Mr Latty, who now runs a computer company, also spoke of drug
experimentation in his early teens followed by a spiral into
full-blown addiction, jail sentences for property crime and a final
desperate attempt by his father, who "threw me unconscious into his
ute and took me to detox".
"I used to live and I lived to use ... I hurt the people who loved me
most. I had people I would die for ... if they had come between me and
my drugs I would have killed them." he said.
Ms French told an all-too-familiar story of her first dabbling in
drugs, aged 13. She smoked cannabis, progressing to pills in her
mid-teens and later to heroin.
With quiet dignity, she told the chamber of her memories of a
childhood racked by self-consciousness, low self-esteem and mental
discomfort, of how drugs eased the bad feelings and later,
anaesthetised them.
But with heroin came the debilitating cycle of cravings and scoring,
the inevitable attempts at withdrawal, failures and relapses.
Her battle to get clean took 10 years.
Beginning in 1973, Ms French entered a roundabout of methadone
blockade (high dose) treatment, reduced the methadone maintenance,
entered detoxification clinics and residential rehabilitation units.
In that time, she lost custody of her daughter and continued to battle
her dependence unsuccessfully.
Finally, in 1983, she entered a longer-term residential program and
has not looked back since.
"When my clients talk to me, I can tell them first-hand what
rehabilitation is like," she told the Parliament with the hint of a
smile.
"What I know is that in the 1970s and 1980s, when I sought help all
those times I could access a service within 24 hours. I did not need
help when things were good, I needed help when things were going bad.
"Today, at the service I run - and I know many other services that are
represented here this afternoon - the waiting list for detox is two
months."
She introduced herself as a daughter, a wife, a mother, a grandmother
and, dressed in a conservative pale suit, hair cropped fashionably
short, only the hint of tears in Ms Kristine French's voice gave her
away.
The manager of the Wollongong Crisis Centre, Ms French, 48, had come
from the South Coast drug treatment centre not to talk about addiction
second-hand but to stand up in the NSW Parliament and tell her own
story of heroin dependence and her long and arduous climb out.
Ms French, with 16 years "clean time" under her belt, and fellow
former user, Mr Joe Latty, 43, who has been drug-free for 20 years,
were each allocated just five minutes' to speak.
In that short time, they managed to convey the plea that drug users be
treated with compassion rather than force, a call more powerful and
poignant than the plethora of experts who preceded them.
It is not easy to stand here and tell you my story," Ms French said,
her voice cracking with emotion, "because of the stigma of heroin use".
"Why did I start? Why did I eventually get clean? Why? It is still all
beyond me ... what I do remember so clearly is my last day of using
... I looked in the mirror and what looked back at me that day scared
me to death."
Mr Latty, who now runs a computer company, also spoke of drug
experimentation in his early teens followed by a spiral into
full-blown addiction, jail sentences for property crime and a final
desperate attempt by his father, who "threw me unconscious into his
ute and took me to detox".
"I used to live and I lived to use ... I hurt the people who loved me
most. I had people I would die for ... if they had come between me and
my drugs I would have killed them." he said.
Ms French told an all-too-familiar story of her first dabbling in
drugs, aged 13. She smoked cannabis, progressing to pills in her
mid-teens and later to heroin.
With quiet dignity, she told the chamber of her memories of a
childhood racked by self-consciousness, low self-esteem and mental
discomfort, of how drugs eased the bad feelings and later,
anaesthetised them.
But with heroin came the debilitating cycle of cravings and scoring,
the inevitable attempts at withdrawal, failures and relapses.
Her battle to get clean took 10 years.
Beginning in 1973, Ms French entered a roundabout of methadone
blockade (high dose) treatment, reduced the methadone maintenance,
entered detoxification clinics and residential rehabilitation units.
In that time, she lost custody of her daughter and continued to battle
her dependence unsuccessfully.
Finally, in 1983, she entered a longer-term residential program and
has not looked back since.
"When my clients talk to me, I can tell them first-hand what
rehabilitation is like," she told the Parliament with the hint of a
smile.
"What I know is that in the 1970s and 1980s, when I sought help all
those times I could access a service within 24 hours. I did not need
help when things were good, I needed help when things were going bad.
"Today, at the service I run - and I know many other services that are
represented here this afternoon - the waiting list for detox is two
months."
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