Beautiful Boy: A Heartbreaking Memoir of a Father's Struggle with His Son's Addiction and the Journey to Recovery

by David Sheff

the people who understand my family’s story because they have lived and are living it, the families of the addicted—their children, brothers and sisters, friends, partners,

husbands and wives, and parents like me. “It’s

one hundred and fiftieth day without methamphetamine.

it presaged disaster.

Whenever he was late or failed to call, I assumed catastrophe. He was dead. Always dead.

I would be furious and relieved, both, because I had already buried him.

a meth addict comes to learn, this drug has a unique, horrific quality.

on meth he became unrecognizable.

“I want to remember him the way he was, that bright and beaming

cannot or will not ever stop using drugs.

At my worst, I even resented Nic because an addict, at least when high, has a momentary respite from his suffering. There is no similar relief for parents or children or husbands or wives or others who love them.

Close your eyes Have no fears The monster’s gone He’s on the run and your daddy’s here

Some rant about conspiracies. Apparently it’s a trait common in drug addicts and alcoholics. “Whenever

Eventually he admits that he is using some drugs “like everyone,” “just pot,” and only “once in a while.”

Meth triggers ten to twenty times the normal level of the brain’s neurotransmitters, primarily dopamine, but also serotonin and norepinephrine, which spray like bullets from a gangster’s gun.

meth remains relatively unchanged and active for ten to twelve hours. When

Alcohol and heroin are metabolized by the liver, meth by the kidneys.

Meth appears to be the most malefic drug of them all.

“You can support his recovery, but you can’t do it for him,” he says.

“You didn’t cause it, you can’t control it, you can’t cure it.”

“Methamphetamine is particularly tricky. It’s the devil’s own drug. It’s horrible what it does to them.”

Unlike alcoholics, there is no damage in the brains of meth addicts that is visible to the naked eye.

if the drug permanently destroys the terminals, there’s not much chance of recovery. So

This and subsequent research indicate that the “fried” nerve endings probably do grow back, though it may take as long as two years. Two years.

This means that meth addicts can probably recover.

“That’s the first thing to understand. There are addicts who were abused and addicts who from all accounts had ideal childhoods. Yet still many family members blame themselves. Another thing they do is try to solve it. They hide liquor bottles and medication and search for drugs in their loved one’s clothes and bedrooms, and they drive the addict to AA or NA meetings. They try to control where the addict goes and what they do and who they hang out with. It’s understandable, but it’s futile. You cannot control an addict.”

If a belief in God or a religious upbringing precludes addiction, though, how does one explain all of the people with religious backgrounds and beliefs who have become addicted? The devout are not spared.

“You went from being the kindest, gentlest man I had ever known in my life to a stranger, yelling at me, listless, depressed, unkind, and unable to share any kind of openness and intimacy. I keep asking myself . . .” She begins to cry.

To varying degrees, we have spent years accepting and rationalizing behavior in our loved ones that we would never tolerate in anyone else. We have protected them

and hidden their addiction. We resented them and felt guilty for it. We have been furious and have felt guilty for it. We vowed not to take their cruelty or deceitfulness or selfishness or irresponsibility any longer and then we forgave them. We raged at them, often inwardly. We blamed ourselves. We worried—worried incessantly—that they would kill themselves.

“Do you think I want to be this way?” a man screams into the face of his shaking wife. “Do you? Do you? I HATE MYSELF.”

By the time I leave, however, I feel an affinity with everyone here—the parents and children and husbands and wives and lovers and brothers and sisters of the drug-addicted. My heart breaks for them. I am one of them.

But I always come back to this: If Nic were not ill he would not lie. If Nic were not ill he would not steal. If Nic were not ill he would not terrorize his family.

“The danger in calling addiction a brain disease is people think that makes you a hapless victim,”

“I can tell you one thing. Don’t help him. Don’t give him any money. He’ll try everything to get you to help him. Then his mom. If you help him, it will only kill him faster. It’s one of the few lessons we learned from my sister’s addiction.”

have been defeated by meth and have given up. Bailing him out, paying his debts, dragging him to shrinks, counselors, and scraping him off the street—it has been futile; meth is impervious. I have always assumed that vigilance and love would guarantee a decent life for my children, but I have learned that they aren’t enough.

“I never again could get the click”—addicts are agitated and confused, and most stop eating and sleeping. Parents of addicts don’t sleep, either.

At least she has said that paying his debt is one

thing, but she won’t give him cash. Giving cash to a using addict is like handing a loaded

gun to someone on the verge ...

I know that if this overdose isn’t enough to stop him, nothing will.

“Don’t accept my promises. I’ll promise anything to get off the hook. But the nature of my illness prevents me from keeping my promises, even though I mean them at the time . . . Don’t believe everything I tell you; it may be a lie. Denial of reality is a symptom of my illness. Moreover, I’m likely to lose respect for those I can fool too easily. Don’t let me take advantage of you or exploit you in any way. Love cannot exist for long without the

dimension of justice.”

heard about the web of lies by addicts. “Substance abusers lie about everything, and usually do an awesome job

Nic is absent, only his shell remains. I have been afraid—terrified—to lose Nic, but I have lost him.

But I have been grieving for him since the drugs took over—grieving for the part of him that is missing. It must be grief.

rage against his struggle and pain and how his addiction has caused so much pain in our lives—ours, his—and I am also filled with boundless love for him, the miracle of Nic and all he has and all he has brought to our

lives.

“The word is ambivalence. It means that it’s possible to feel two things at once. It means . . . It means that you can love someone and hate them at the same time—or maybe hate what they’re doing to your family—and to themselves. It means that you can want to see them very badly and at the same time be very afraid of them.”