Our son left for college in August of 2005. He was a typical kid, anxious to get on his own and be independent. He had lived in the dorm his first year, but he said he wanted to be where he could have a quieter study area. I didn’t really believe that, but the deadline for the dorms had passed.

During his first year (he later told us) he did some experimenting with drugs. When he moved to an apartment, there were no restrictions, and when a so-called “friend” gave him some OxyContin tablets, he quickly became hooked on them. We didn’t know.

Because he had a job, we didn’t see him much that summer. Before he left for college I had stressed how important it was to get involved in school activities, but he always had an excuse. As he began his second year I encouraged him again, but by then (still without our knowledge) he was using OxyContin and began to change his focus from school to using Oxy. 

In October when we had a family reunion one weekend, I knew something was going on, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. He admitted that he had smoked some pot but not regularly. I warned him against the dangers of illegal drugs, but I tried not to overreact. Many kids, I naively told myself, tend to experiment.

Looking back, I could see that he didn’t have the spark for life that he used to possess. He had a distant stare in his eyes and he had lost weight. When we had meals he didn’t eat as much as in the past, and I wondered if he was becoming anorexic. He told me he was just tired from the trip and not hungry. I missed the warning signs. 

At Christmas time, we went on a family vacation, but he made it clear that he didn’t want to come with us. I wrote it off to a college kid who is used to being on his own. He stayed in his room much of the time watching TV, and we concluded he didn’t want to be with us at that time. I discovered later that he had only enough pills to last him for a week and he was becoming paranoid.

After Christmas, we saw him and a friend once in February for his birthday. They seemed to stay up late and sleep in until early afternoon. Again, typical of college students—except that they seemed unusually lethargic at times and liked to stay in my son’s bedroom with the door closed. Again, I missed the warning signs. 

Like many addicts, he began to withdraw from his family (I usually called him weekly), and focused on getting high. Over Christmas, he had told us that he had saved $14,000 from working as an assistant to a disc jockey—on many evenings, he said, he had earned over $200/night.) I was worried when I heard how much money he had, but we couldn’t get him to put it into a savings account. He put a heavy duty safe in his apartment room. By now, we suspected something was wrong, and we stopped paying his expenses, except for school and rent on his apartment. 

By the end of May, we learned later, he had spent all but a couple thousand dollars on his drug habit and a new computer. At this point he was using (snorting) 15 to 20 pills a day just to maintain himself. Soon, he was broke. One day, while waiting for his next batch of pills from his dealer, the man was arrested in front of him. 

He also watched an intervention show. This and his other mounting problems led him to reach out for help. He e-mailed me with an apparently innocent idea. He said he was thinking of coming home because he didn’t like his apartment and most of his friends had left for the summer. (What he said about “friends” was not true. He had few friends. He spent most of his time alone in his apartment on OxyContin highs. He preferred using drugs to spending time with people).

We called and told him we wanted him home. He agreed—but with reservations—so we had to act fast. His co-user, his so-called “best friend,” was in tears and tried to convince him to stay. He insisted they could beat their addictions together. (This friend is still using and dealing.) We picked up our son the next day and one day later he entered detox.

When he left detox, unfortunately the only thing we were told was that his recovery would take a year to a year and a half. I didn’t get an answer as to what that meant. Three of the four people who were in detox with my son were using within a week; he began using a month later. He actually used for over two months before we had any idea. (See Our Story - Get Organized page.)

This time, we vowed, it was going to be different! I began to do my research, talking to people, getting on e-mail lists, making phone calls and putting this website together.

Interesting enough, most of the people I have spoken to have asked me what injury he had for initially taking the drug. When I reply that it was purely for pleasure, that he had gotten them (repeatedly!) from some self-styled “pain-management” doctor for absolutely no medical reason, and that these drugs are very easy to get—they are astounded—as was I when we first began learning about this addiction.

It is beyond upsetting and sad that so many people have died, continue to become addicted and struggle daily with recovery—and basically nothing has been done to reclassify this drug and STOP the unnecessary distribution of this pain-KILLER.

Please, PLEASE do what you can to help!