MaryBeth Chichocki asked me to share her letter to her son, Matt, who died of a drug overdose, in hopes her story and her blog, Mother’s Heartbreak.com, can help others whose child has a drug use problem. MaryBeth is determined to make a difference and has a meeting scheduled with the Governor of Delaware to talk about the need for insurance coverage for 90 days in residential treatment/rehab (vs the current 28 days) and is working with John Lehman of FARR (Florida Association of Recovery Residences) to help them in their efforts to regulate sober living homes in Florida. MaryBeth welcomes your emails, mmassey4@verizon.net, and phone calls, 302-561-4619.

And now…

MaryBeth Cichocki’s letter to her son, Matt

February 16, 2015

Matt,

Well, I’m here in The Keys, my favorite place in the world. The turquoise sea surrounding me. The sun kisses my cold skin with warmth. This place I spent the last months dreaming of and the joy it would bring once I got there. I would think of this trip and feel such joy knowing that I would be where you lived. The first week of my trip was to be spent with you. We had plans you and I to go to your beach, go to dinner. I was going to see the place you started a new career, meet the people you called friends. I truly let my self believe that you were safe here, starting that new life you always talked about when we spoke.

How stupid I was to let myself relax and believe that you were living the clean life that I needed so badly for you to live.

I should have researched BocaRaton before I jumped on board and let you go. This place is a death trap, and you were in no place to survive here. Too much freedom for you my son. You just weren’t ready to live the normal life that I wanted so badly for you.

Your choice of friends remained the same, always the bad guys, the drugs, pushing it to the limit. I never saw you as the addict you truly were. Maybe my denial was my survival all the years we fought your addition together. You just had a problem. There was no way I could have ever admitted your problem was bigger than both of us. I always thought you would beat it or just continue to live in your addiction, and I would continue to find another safe place for you when my mind and heart needed a break.

All the years just run together in my brain as I try to understand how we got here.

Even though you did the unthinkable, you broke the promise and overdosed, I still have such a hard time believing you were the addict that died in a motel room in the company of other addicts. I continue to struggle everyday with the fact that you are gone and that my such anticipated trip has turned into my investigation into how you truly lived. You became quite the actor. Saying everything I needed to hear, making me believe you were taking your recovery seriously this time. How many more chances would you get. An almost fatal car accident. A close call after using cocaine. Your heart stopping only to be restarted by the grace of God.

Matt, I would always tell you God has blessed you with another chance at life. I asked you to honor him by getting straight and living a life to be proud of. I guess all the close calls made me think you would always be here. How I fooled myself into thinking that I would always have to look out for you and try to keep you safe. Now the answers I sought have just turned into more questions. I thought I might find just a little bit of peace, now my grief has deepened knowing that you never had a chance.

I continue to blame myself for trusting you enough and not seeing you as the addict you truly were.

I was trying to survive myself after battling along side you all these years. Now I remain in shock. I’m lost, I don’t know how to survive the reality of your story. Even as I write this, the disbelief grips my heart. I just can’t allow myself to believe that you are gone. I question my decisions on your life, the rehabs, decisions on tough love that was tougher on me than you.

What went so wrong? What could I have done differently?

Matt, you have finally found your peace, and I live with regret and pain that no mother should ever endure. My eyes remain swollen as my day starts with tears as I remember that you are really gone. The pain hits me like none I have ever felt before. I pray for a sign that you are safe. I would give anything for a glimpse of your face. I have to figure out a way to live as I could never cause the pain to our family as you have done to me. So now I walk this journey alone. I must find a new purpose, as my purpose was always about you. I tried to save you and I failed.

Forgive me Matt, as I try to forgive myself,

Mom