My story starts 21 years ago when I gave birth to my beautiful son Mathew. Mathew is my second child, his older sister Elise was over joyed with this live doll of her own. Mathew was born the day after Elise’s fifth birthday, so from that day on they would share birthdays. As a family we were close and happy together.
As the children grew up, we were a very normal family. My husband became a basketball coach for both the children’s teams. We had holidays like any other family with many memorable moments, many of which have been comfort to me in the last two and a half years. Things seemed to be going well. We were raising two strong, confident and intelligent people.
When I start to think about what was about to unfold, I am overwhelmed with emotion. My motherly instincts kick in. The love I have for my children is beyond even what I ever imagined it would be. My baby, my boy at 19 is a drug addict.
In March 2014 we had noticed a rapid decline in his attitude towards just about everything. We had put it down to a relationship break up, that he had taken badly.