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Lanette Sweeney's avatar

Hi, Daphne -- At 15, my son was straight edge. He had won the Dare contest for an anti-drug poem when he was in 6th grade and took the just-say-no message very seriously. He had never had a drink nor a drug and was pretty arrogant when talking to friends about how stupid he thought it was that they polluted their minds. I was a secret cannabis user and rarely drank around my children. Then one day a friend of his got tired of my son's lecturing, and said, "Your mom smokes pot." My son said he was sure that was a lie, and the friend said, "No, your mom bought Purple Haze from my dad yesterday."

My son confronted me and I admitted that I did smoke marijuana but had hidden it from him and his sister because I didn't want them to use drugs. He was so incensed by my hypocrisy that he immediately, that night, went out and got blitzed, smoking weed and drinking heavily. And from that night on he was high for most of the rest of his life.

He smoked pot with a dedication neither I nor anyone who knew him had ever seen. He sometimes set an alarm to wake up at 2 in the morning so he could smoke and experience being high by himself. He was arrested a couple of times in high school for marijuana, the laws then being much stricter, but because he was a middle-class white boy, the judge referred him to rehab rather than leave him with a record. His rehab counselor said I had to stop smoking pot for him to stop smoking pot, so I did, and we were both clean for about 6 months together, but once he went back to getting high, so did I. He barely graduated high school, but because of high SAT scores still got into college, and then was arrested there for dealing drugs. He was like most teen boys, sure he was invincible and very reckless with his body. He did LSD more than 40 times, he did Xanax, he did coke, he *loved* MDMA.

When he was 23, someone who didn't have coke offered him crack, and he "tried it," and then was amazed to discover he couldn't stop wanting it. He ran through his student loan money and only called us for help after selling his own Playstation. I fought hard to get him into a rehab, though they told me they didn't have rehab for people who did crack, only for opioid addicts, since crack was not physically addictive and couldn't kill you. The guys in rehab taught him how to shoot up, and he soon went from telling me, "Don't worry Mom, I don't even like heroin," to being a heroin addict. He died of an overdose of heroin and meth when he was 26.

What is the moral of this story in terms of whether we should tell our children about our own drug use? I wish I knew. I have often said to friends that I wish my son had only been a pothead, as then he would still be alive. I don't believe marijuana is necessarily a gateway drug, despite it's having served as one for my son. My father was a heroin addict, who died at 24, and I do believe addictive genes run in our family, but looking back I do not know how I could have prevented the tragic outcome of my son's life. I suppose I wish I had spoken more openly to him about my own marijuana use, so that he wouldn't have reacted as he did, determined to get high as soon as he knew that I did, but perhaps then his addiction would have just started earlier.

I very much appreciate you opening up this subject and encouraging parents to think about how we talk to our children about drugs. I wanted to make my comment public so that we could have a conversation about it with others. Thanks for your writing and vulnerable sharing.

Warmly,

Lanette

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Chris Buczinsky's avatar

For me, it was a BAD idea to share with my son. He ended up romanticizing guys like Hunter S Thompson in high school and ended up at 25 addicted to all sorts of shit. A good rehab facility, a good therapist, and writing saved his ass, and now he has his head on straight, but it was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

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