Is Your Kid Getting High?

You know your kid. Bottom line is, you know something's wrong. Below is a list of a few things your kid may do or neglect to do if he/she is getting high:

Suddenly do not want anyone to go into their room or bother their belongings.

Skipping school or grades falling.

They seem to avoid you more and more.

Conversations with buddies take a strange turn: they seem to be speaking in code or are very private with phone conversations.

They acquire friends they would not normally have anything in common with.

They seem sad, depressed or do not want to get out of bed sometimes, as if there’s no reason.

Their appearance changes.

It sounds like they may be inhaling something, such as hairspray or spray paint? Have either turned up on their clothing or skin? Have you been missing anything that could be used as an inhalant?

Using air freshener or perfume to hide smoke or smells.

They constantly use or request eye drops, in order to brighten the eyes or hide dilated pupils.

They use mouthwash or breath fresheners more.
Borrow more money than usual or you may have noticed money missing.

There is missing prescription medications from your medicine cabinet – especially pain killers or downers, such as Xanax or Valium, Klonopin, Soma, Lortab, etc.

They are moody.

They no longer enjoy former activities or relationships they once did.

Drug paraphernalia found, such as small bags, pipes, rolling papers, straws for snorting, razor blades (and note that many addicts who snort use their ID or Driver’s License to “chop” powder more finely for snorting or smoking instead of a razor blade) – has ID or blades turned up in strange places or have either been left on a flat surface or mirror and perhaps had powder or an unrecognizable substance on them?

What Law?

All along I think that maybe it had already planned to keep me,
Back then when no one ever knows what could become.
All at once I knew it was something, a familiar comfort that could fill all these.
Nothings, having me whole when I decided to just try some.
All in all, I knew that I needed some other something than what I proceeded
To use as the only something to fill the void and need.

No, Sir, I'm not in possession of any drug, paraphernalia, or even a weapon;
No stolen items, or anything for which you would arrest me.
No hypodermic accident waiting to stick you from the pocket of my pants,
I've never banged anything in my veins, as you can see.
Well, yes, I knew that bag was there this whole time, I'm fully aware, but
I'd just lie again, Sir, since it's the drug that's in possession of me.

-Jeanne Sparks-Carreker
DOC: Methamphetamine/OxyContin Mix

Why Don't You Get Dressed and Come Down?

Picking up pieces of myself after crashing, becoming new, and
The indication you endlessly display leaves me with only one truth.
The dilemma I always allow me to face gives rise to obsolete excuse:
Your problem's not a lack of concern, but that aroma, that will confuse.

Why don't you get dressed and come down here,
With these adversaries, these rivals, these foes, these
Merciless creatures, come here to hunt, come here to wrinkle your nose?
I can't understand why I just don't want their patronizing time!

They're legends, like us, who've been through the game,
Who've stretched the austere, bloody limits of their mind.
You'd think we'd put as much into healing the world as we put into the find!
But sure as Satan sits upon a throne, I will come down, in time.

Under the hour glass of ice again, and I eagerly bury the awareness.
A single truth reiterates fear, just reminds me, more or less,
That I've been here before, a deja' voo, an overexposed picture in time–
A blurry representation of who I once was, outlined in murderous rhyme.

Oh, why won't I get dressed and go down there? Each time has been so cruel.
Hardhearted trolls searching for substance that they then swathe like fools.
I can't imagine why I don't want to go down there, drawn to what is untrue, and
This constant lust for your freezing touch though every puff splits me in two.

So I put on my most elegant falsetto, and beat myself inward with each step.
When and where will I find myself then, and were you asleep as I slept?
Every day leaves me breathless from voicing the questions that always remain.
Every time I go down there, I wind up here, still sitting, still the same.
-Jeanne Sparks-Carreker
August, 2006

Below you will find a Poll entitled "Help Us to Help Others In the Future." The purpose of this poll is, along with other polls on other sites, to form a statistical graph of those people most likely to seek out treatment for a loved one.

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