Drug abuse treatment
My grandfather was a drug addict. He started with heroin during the Korean war. My father was a drug addict. He started smoking pot during Vietnam. The probability that I would become a drug addict was etched in stone. A mortal lock, as they say. When I took off for Iraq, I told myself that I am not going to become one like my dad and granddad. But I did. I had always been a drinker, a heavy drinker, but not until I got into the service did my drug abuse start spiking. It was horrible, and I knew from day one that it was in my genes, in my blood. As soon as I got back, I sat down with my granddad and told him what I had done and that I thought I needed drug abuse treatment. He just started laughing. Then, he pulled out an envelope from his desk and told me he had been planning for this day. What was inside changed my life. It was a brochure for a residential drug treatment center in Malibu, CA. He told me he had put aside a little money for this day, how he had been sober for thirty five years, and that he would be happy to drive me. He did. I’m not a drug addict anymore. And ever since then Ive started putting a little bit aside for when my grandson comes to talk to me.