ADDICTED TO THE ADDICTED

In Connelly’s debut memoir, a mother recounts the trials of supporting her heroin-addicted son.

Addiction wreaks havoc on the life of the addict, but as this memoir shows, it can also wreak havoc on the lives of the addict’s family. Connelly’s son Timothy had been a heroin addict for years, and her efforts to help him tested the limits of her maternal obligation. “My son may not be a corpse, but for most of his life he’s been a drugged-out zombie,” writes Connelly in her introduction. “And for me I have felt as though I am a living corpse as I chase after him, trying to convince him to get help for his addiction. Tim may be addicted to heroin, but in turn I am addicted to making sure he stays alive.” With this memoir, Connelly hopes to provide a resource to other parents whose children are struggling with drug addiction. It includes not only Connelly’s experience with the infrastructure of addiction—schools, rehab, hospitals, jails—but the psychological infrastructure as well. She discusses the dysfunctional family dynamic in which Timothy was raised, colored by his father’s alcoholism and the author’s own mental health issues. Timothy exhibited behavioral problems in school, leading to his expulsion from half a dozen institutions. His problems with the police started soon after and only increased as he got older and committed increasingly serious crimes to feed his habit. Around the same time, Connelly—after realizing her boyfriends always turned out to be drunks—started attending Al-Anon meetings. In addition to Timothy’s drug issues, Connelly also documents her daughter Kerriann’s alcoholism and recovery. In time, a sober Kerriann would prove a necessary pillar for Connelly while she attempted to help Timothy.

Connelly’s prose is simple but affecting, revealing deep wells of frustration and love. Here she describes her ritual interaction with Timothy, knowing the dangerous situations he frequently placed himself in: “I wanted to say hello, get a quick glimpse of his face, tell him that I love him, and ask him to ‘Please take care of my son.’ That was our routine with one another—I always asked him, ‘Please take care of my son.’ He would always answer ‘Yes Mommy; I will take care of your son.’ ” The memoir paints a moving portrait of all parties, one that demonstrates how inevitable addiction can seem when there’s already a family history of substance abuse. Connelly unpacks the shame and guilt she feels around her own culpability in her son’s addiction and describes the balancing act of managing her fears and resentments while still attempting to provide her son with unconditional love. While there are certainly more polished books about the effects of addiction on families, Connelly’s is accessible and full of heart. Those who find themselves in similar straits as the author—a tragically common position given the ongoing opioid crisis—will appreciate her words. Perhaps they can take comfort in the knowledge they aren’t ever wrong for loving their child, no matter how bad things get.

A thoughtful, vulnerable memoir about the pain of parenting an addict.