Hi. I have been reading many a post on your blog and would like to share my story.
I am 28 years old and my Dad was a heroin addict. By saying 'was' he is no longer with us as heroin finally buried him.
My Mum left him when I was 12 years old and gave him chance after chance but of course his heroin always came first. I saw a lot of pain growing up around him and Mum was always stressed out and unhappy. She finally saw sense and focused on just me and herself. Dad kinda stayed in touch sporadically and settled down with a fellow junkie girlfriend. No offence to both he and her but it was a relationship built purely on their love for heroin. Mum wouldn't allow me to see him so we spoke on the phone which wasn't a lot and when it was he was the usual bull-shitting self. Now I'm older and can reflect on it, it wasn't Dad talking, it was the heroin he'd injected in to his veins.
Growing up around a parent with an addiction is not an environment I reccommend. It just isn't. When I was 15 I went to visit him in prison but I never got any answers so for me it wasn't constructive. At 18 I walked away for good because it was too painful. The last time I saw him was 2 years before his death and he did not look good. I won't describe how he looked, everyone deserves a bit of dignity but I went to see him in the chapel in private. He was my Dad.
I am now married with a small family of my own and Mum is my rock. Her heart was too big for Dad - if only he realised - but then he wouldn't have would he because his first and only love was heroin.