Gregor's last pic
Hello, my name is Julie, my world was forever changed on Feb. 10, 2013 at 9 PM. after 2 State HWY police officers knocked on my door to let me know my son, my only child, my forever 33 year old son Greg had passed away from a Heroin Overdose, on Feb 8th. (It took them 2 days to find his next of kin.) The only information they had was that he had been found in a alley, about a block from the rehab center where he had just been released. They didn't have any more details other than that as it happened in another state, TX.
But I think in my heart I knew something had happened to Greg, as he was excited to be getting out of a rehab facility on Friday and was suppose to be catching a bus to MO to be near me. He had been on a waiting list for over a year, for a facility here in MO. He didn't call me that Friday... Or Saturday or Sunday and my heart was hurting... It’s like as a Mom you just know? My son was Bi-Polar and suffered from addiction most of his teen/adult life.
A little more about Greg, he was born Dec 1, 1979 and a fighter since his birth, he was born not breathing and was in and out of hospitals for 6 months for breathing issues. When he was younger he had to fight with other issues too, such as ADD, Dyslexia, Oppositional Defiant Disorder and many other diagnosis. (Don’t think the schools knew how to treat someone with so many problems.)
But HE just couldn't win his battle from drugs. I know, I tried, and tried and tried... He started having behavior problems in Elementary school. But no- one knew what was really wrong, everyone saying he was just being mean, well my ex and is family decided to send him to military school when he was 10, I was against it, but caved in to family pressure. Flew down with Greg, handed him off to the school and they promised me he would be OK, I hadn't even been home 5 minutes when the school called and told me he had escaped and they had no clue where he was.
Well he was 2 miles from the school and even closer to Mexico. Greg called me, crying asking me to come pick him up, he was talking about killing himself. I did and still to this day don't regret that. Then when he was about 13, we had to put him into a hospital to help deal with his behavior issues, they still couldn't figure out what was wrong. So when Insurance ran out, he was released.
When he was 17, he was arrested for drugs, served 16 months, but I still loved my son, at this time, my marriage had fallen apart, I got a divorce from his Dad, who was also abusive and my family was starting to distance themselves against my son. Low and behold he's now about 19, seems to be doing better then gets in with the wrong crowd. I get a call and he's in the hospital and tried to slit his wrists, again, he walked out of the hospital by the time I had arrived. This is when he started to spiral out of control and I thought sending him money, helping pay for rent Etc would help, but again this is a long story, but a few years later, I remarried and my Dad got ill so my new husband and I moved to MO to be near my folks. I hated leaving Greg but he seemed to be up and down with his struggles. Then when he was 28 or so, he was on meth and slit his throat when his GF of 12 years said it was over, I begged my
I begged my husband to let him come live with us, he agreed. But I still couldn't help my son. I know I tried yet again. By now Greg had been in and out of hospitals and treatment centers and finally diagnosed but still always on waiting lists. He lived with us off and on for several years and seemed to be getting better and his dream was to go to Alaska, he had a job offer to be a chef at a resort in Coopers Landing, so off he went... I thought my prayers were finally answered. He had a good year then again got in with the wrong group of people.
He again, got caught up his addictions and illness, Again my heart was breaking. He was homeless and I still can't believe he survived the elements in Alaska for 3 years, but he was begging me to come home once again I said yes as I thought I could help him... but by this time my family was against him coming home and non one wanted to even see him.
It was Oct, he had some friends here but again, not making good choices, the day after Thanksgiving he asked if he could go back to TX to visit his love his Golden retriever Clifford and had a place to stay, so I agreed and have REGRETTED it since. I blame myself, he got back with his old friends, but I at that time had to work my marriage...
But Dec 1st on his b-day he started to be paranoid that people were out to get him, he caught a bus to Corpus, I was trying to get him into a place, again waiting lists, but he jumped out of a 2 story window trying to get help, he broke his foot, he was in for a week then released, 2 weeks later, he slit his wrists, a week later was released, he almost died from a OD end of Dec, we talked he had seen a white light, he accepted God back into his life, he found a treatment center that would work with him and he was there for almost 2 months, but lost his way after being out only 24 hours.
I’ve had NO FAMILY SUPPORT…
None when to his memorial service, none came over the day I found out he passed. I never even got a card or a hug from any of them.
The only comments have been “why are you surprised, you knew it was going to happen,” “MOVE ON”, it's what he would want, how do they KNOW THAT? They didn't want anything to do with, him, so you all have no SAY SO. None will even come to my house because I am waiting for the courage to go get his ashes and they will not come here if he is here, WELL THEN DON'T.
There are days I just don’t want to go on…