Beautiful Boy by David Sheff: Raw, Heartbreaking, Memorable

One of the most memorable books I have read is Beautiful Boy by David Sheff. I read it last year but I still remember it because it was raw and heartfelt. It is about the travails of a father who has a son who is struggling from drug addiction.

As a parent, I felt his heartbreak seeing his son waste himself, to see him almost skin and bones, far from the athlete he once was. I also felt his fear having to call hospitals, police station hoping that his son, Nic is not there while sadly expecting the worst. And how his stomach tightens when the phone rings because it might be tragic news about Nic.

More than that, I am amazed by the amount of research he has gone through to understand about addiction, to know more about the “evil” that possessed his son. Moreso for his patience, for giving his son so many chances to get well, bringing him to rehab so many times and enduring to see him relapse and going back to his addiction but still forgiving him again and again, hoping he will change.

But what strikes me about this book is the courage of the author, David Sheff to emotionally expose himself. He didn’t hold back, he generously lets you in. Immersing yourself in his story, you feel his worry and anguish, you witness the harrowing days and nights when his son was missing and how painful it was to him. It brought me to tears many times. It made me look at addiction in a new light, increasing my empathy for parents going through this. It indeed is a hard life because addiction is a disease they have to battle with for the rest of their lives.

I prefer reading nonfiction such this nowadays. I love reading true stories of individuals going through different ordeals and triumphing over them. Maybe because after my son was diagnosed with autism, I wanted to read about people who are struggling with their own challenges and winning over them. I want to read how it changed them for the better and how their sadness were turned to help others. Reading Beautiful Boy made me realize on thing, all parents are the same. We all have our own struggles, our own pain and we all want the best for our children.  

We want them to grow up well and be happy and it doesn’t matter if our kids our regular kids or special children because when challenges like addiction or autism happens, we are all heartbroken. And as parents, you are part of a special group of people who understands this great love for one's child and the special bond we have with them.

So I laud David Sheff. I laud his courage for bringing his story about his son’s addiction out in the open. It must have been hard to go back to the drug-laced days of his son. But I know it helped many people open their eyes to addiction. For me, it made me realize that sometimes one session of rehab is not enough  because there’s a part in the brain that gets warped once you get addicted. I don't have the right to judge an addict hastily. It is an ongoing process, to fight the urge to use drugs again.

And for families battling with addiction, I hope this book helps them. I hope it serves as an ally because it understands what they’re going through. Let it be a beacon in their journey as they fight against this menace. And I hope David’s son, Nic gets better, I really do and if he did, I hope he lives a more peaceful life.

Here are some excerpts in David Sheff’s Beautiful Boy that moved me, I hope it does move you too:

“Slowly,  I realize that Nic is gone, and he has robbed the house of cash, food, and a case of wine. He was selective. He took only very good wine. I am in a panic…”

“My son, the svelte and muscular swimmer, water –polo player, and surfer with an ebullient smile, is bruised, sallow, skin and bone and his eyes are vacant black holes. When I reach him he goes limp in my arms. I half carry him, his feet shuffling beneath him.”

“My panic mounts. Every time the phone rings, my stomach constricts. Where can he be? I cannot imagine, or more accurately, I choose not to. I push away the grisliest thoughts. Finally I call the police and hospital emergency rooms, asking if he is in jail or if there has been an accident. Each time I call, I brace myself for the unthinkable.”

 “Sometimes the pain in the room is nearly unbearable. Without respite, we hear, see and most of all feel with heart-tearing jabs the bleakness of the lives of people whose loved ones have become addicted to meth, though the “drug of choice” hardly matters… The people in the circle are different, yet we are all the same. We all have gaping wounds.”

“Every addict’s story has similar themes too- remorse, out of control fury, directed most often at themselves- and a sense of helplessness. “Do you think I want to be this way? A man screams into the face of his shaking wife. “Do you” Do you? I HATE MYSELF.” Both of them cry and cry and cry.”

“I don’t hear from Nic, and each hour and each day and each week is quiet torture like physical pain. Much of the time I feel as if I am on fire. It may be true that suffering builds character, but it also damages people. ..I try to “detach”- to let go and let God. How does any parent let go? I can’t. I don’t know how.”

“I see Nic on the plane. I see him as he is- frail, opaque, ill- my beloved son, my beautiful boy.”

“I have been terrorized by the fear that he would die. If he did, it would leave a permanent crack in my soul. I would never fully recover. But I also know that if he were to die, or for that matter, if he stays high, I would live on- with that crack. I would grieve, I would grieve forever.”

“Some of the times when Nic wasn’t all right it got so bad that I wanted to wipe out and delete and expunge every trace of him from my brain so that I would not have to worry about him anymore and I would not have to be disappointed by him and hurt by him and I would not have to blame myself and blame him and I would no longer have the relentless and haunting slide show of images of my lovely son, drugged, in the most sordid, horrible scenes imaginable.”