Steve left us all too soon. Just shy of his 29th birthday. He had been troubled most of his life. Started using drugs at about 13 years old when his friend's parents introduced him to marijuana. From then on it was any new drug that came along. About two or three years ago he discovered heroin. Well that was the beginning of the end. He lost his job, sold his motorcycle, all of his CDs and who knows what else. He couldn't even play his drums -- and they were his life. He was self-taught and had a band. They were the "Freeloaders". Steve's brother Bill gave them that name because they were always at my house using my electricity, snacks, soda, ice tea, pool and the facilities. Even though I don't like hard rock music, Steven could really play. We would have people outside our home listening to him play in the garage. He was great. My house was the house to be at for his friends. They always knew they were all welcomed. After a few years all his friends knew what he was doing and they all seemed to stay away. I could never understand why. I had tried to get help for Steve since he was about 16. He just went to the doctor for me because he promised he would go. Not till he was about 26 years old did "he" realize that he needed a doctor for his mental health. He was diagnosed as "Bi-Polar". With that came a lot more medicine. He was so confused and depressed he just didn't know what to do. The only way his mind would stop racing and relax was with heroin. Then he could sleep. Many nights he would walk the floors for hours. Weeks before his death from a heroin overdose, he was detoxing every week. He really did want to stop. He hated what he did to his father and me and himself. Many times he would tell me "let go of me, Mom". But I couldn't let go. He was my son, my friend. Steve and I would have many nights together where we would talk about his problems till two or three in the morning. Basically we would talk about the same thing over and over. The thing that bothered him most was that his niece knew something was wrong with her "Uncle Steve". That tore him apart. His nieces were his life and for them to know that Uncle Steve was on "drugs" would get him very depressed. I could go on forever about my Steve, his family and his friends. We all must remember that no one is to feel any guilt towards what happened to Steve. He knew what he was doing was wrong and unhealthy but he did it for so long that he just couldn't stop. That's what addiction does to people. So if any of Steve's friends are reading this and you have a problem with any type of drugs or alcohol and you know who you are, please get help before it's too late. Only you can make the first step. The help is there for anyone, just ask.When I found Steve on the floor of his room that terrible morning I knew he was gone, but I couldn't believe that my Steve was really gone. I felt my heart break.Anyone who has lost a child will understand how my husband and I feel. It is the greatest loss anyone could ever have. Your life is never the same. I know that my Steve is with me always, just like he was when he was living in our home. I feel his presence always and know that he is watching over us all.
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