Pubdate: Sat, 03 May 2014
Source: Evening Standard (London, UK)
Copyright: 2014 Associated Newspapers Ltd.
Contact:  http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/914
Author: James McConnel
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/find?132 (Heroin Overdose)

A Deadly Friendship

THE ADDICTION THAT KILLED PEACHES AND MY SON FREDDY

After his son Freddy died of an overdose, James McConnel found a 
diary entry: 'Peaches is coming and I'm going to inject for the first 
time.' Here he tells how addiction destroyed them

A few days after our son Freddy died from a heroin overdose in 2011, 
we came across the following entry in one of his last diaries: 
"Peaches is coming over later and I am going to inject for the first 
time. Perhaps I will die. I hope I don't."

In the days after the equally tragic death of Peaches Geldof, calls 
and emails I received from friends went along the lines of: "So 
sorry, it must be a painful reminder ..."

Yes, it certainly was - but I was touched by the sentiment. However, 
the unspoken subtext within one supposedly sympathetic call from a 
journalist was very clear: "Do you feel a sense of poetic justice?"

No. Of course I don't. To the contrary, I feel desperately sorry; not 
just for Peaches herself and how dreadfully unhappy she must have 
been for so long, but obviously for those left behind; her family and 
close friends. They are survivors in what is essentially an 
addiction-fuelled train wreck and their lives will have been shattered.

Bob Geldof, in describing himself as being "beyond grief", puts it 
chillingly well. As a parent, when it relates to your child, the word 
"dead" somehow raises itself to a horrifying new level and personally 
I found those early stages entirely unexpected. Shock, yes obviously, 
but also bewilderment, guilt, anger, then inexplicable periods of 
complete calm... followed by spontaneous spasms of uncontrollable 
crying in which towels, not tissues, were the order of the day.

However, it's the phrase "addiction-fuelled" which is key here. For 
me, addiction is a disease, an illness, every bit as valid and as 
devastating as cancer ... possibly more so, because the behavioural 
symptoms of the sufferer cause devastation to all those around them. 
In fact, it has been estimated that up to 30 people - family and 
friends - are negatively affected by the actions of a fully-fledged 
addict in their midst. In a further sick twist, thanks to one of its 
most insidious symptoms - denial - it is also the only disease which 
convinces you that you don't have it.

Addiction gradually invades a person, body and soul, to the extent 
that they become something else. They are no longer the people they 
were. Peaches but not Peaches. Freddy but not Freddy. Their usual 
senses of morality no longer apply. For an addict, the Addiction God 
is all that matters. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, takes 
precedence. Not work, not spouse, not friends, not even children are 
allowed to interfere with the procuring of that next fix. It is an 
all-consuming obsession, and even if there are brief moments of 
mental clarity within the maelstrom, when the addict perhaps 
contemplates the devastation he/she might be causing, the impulse to 
serve the Addiction God will always win out. Always.

Whether it's heroin, crack, booze, work, gambling or sex; ultimately, 
it doesn't much matter what your drug of choice is. Yes, heroin, 
crack and booze will affect you physically, but the other 
non-chemical addictions can be equally devastating. It's the 
behaviour that's the point.

Honesty is an early casualty. Lying, cheating and stealing reside in 
the top drawer of the addict's tool chest. Freddy stole from me on 
numerous occasions, whether it was cash or "stuff" to sell. Living 
with an addict - and Freddy did live with me a lot of the time - you 
eventually begin to question your own sanity. When "stuff" and money 
start disappearing, you're so desperate to believe that your child 
can't possibly be stealing from you that you convince yourself that 
either you've been forgetful and somehow "lost" that 50 quid, or 
worse, your suspicions fall on others - your cleaning lady, the postman even...

And then you become dishonest yourself. I began sneaking looks at 
Freddy's mobile phone texts and emails, and even though there were 
numerous references to words such as "horse" (slang for heroin) and 
"gear" - I still didn't want to believe it.

Ironically, I should understand addiction because I myself am a 
recovering alcoholic. Though I've been sober a good many years now, I 
can still remember the mindset ... literally being prepared to go to 
any lengths for that next drink. And yet even knowing that, I was 
still in denial when it came to Freddy's stealing.

But above all, there is the single-minded selfishness, the total 
disregard for anyone else. A few days after Freddy died, Peaches rang 
me at home. Freddy had mentioned her once or twice in passing but I'd 
never met her. She was in a high state of anxiety; far too concerned 
about the implications for her of Freddy's diary entry to express 
more than passing sympathy. At the time, unable to focus on anything 
much except Freddy, I mentally dismissed her as a selfish brat but in 
hindsight I know she was simply displaying the symptoms of a disease 
over which she had no more control than Freddy did.

Actually, someone recently did ask me: "Do you forgive Peaches?" My 
answer: There's nothing to forgive. Whether or not she taught Freddy 
how to inject is immaterial. She may or may not have done. If she 
didn't, someone else would have done, eventually.

Many people still misunderstand addiction. They often view addicts as 
somehow being either weak-willed or spoilt and judge them 
accordingly. This simply isn't the case.

Currently, I have almost no understanding of the inner workings of a 
mobile phone, but given some education I daresay I could learn. The 
same is true for addiction. Ill-informed judgment is at best 
unhelpful, and at worst, damaging.

So when I read in the papers about what Peaches did - or indeed 
anyone in the grip of this foul disease - the thing I'm always 
careful to remember is that it's not them. It's the addiction. 
Somehow the Addiction God kidnaps their ability to think or behave 
rationally. My ex-wife Annie summed up both our feelings very well on 
Freddy's Facebook page this morning.

"So sorry for her family. Freddy will definitely be looking after 
her. Let us remember when the press rip her apart that 'Lady Heroin' 
is a very powerful pull and recovery is hard daily work for an 
addict. Forever. Whether you love your babies or not, one single weak 
moment is all it takes. What a total tragedy for her family."
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MAP posted-by: Jay Bergstrom