Where to begin. I have a few things I could talk about. However, God led me to share about the most devastating thing I have ever been through in my life. I am a mother of 3. 2 boys and 1 girl.

I raised my boys on my own. Their dad was rarely ever part of the picture, neither financial supporter nor any other support to help raise them. The only family I had, which was my mom and Dad had passed. My Mom in 2002 and my Dad in 2011. All my boys had, were me, my Mom and my Dad. My story is about my beautiful son, Austin. Austin grew up craving a father figure, he needed a father in his life. He never got it. I unfortunately married a man who wasn’t the best father figure either. Needless to say, he and Austin did not get along all that well. I can recall a time when Austin told him he hated him for taking me away from him. He had felt that all my time was taken from him. There were a lot of ups and lot of downs in my household, a lot of arguments, a lot of hurt. In 2014, Austin decided to move to Charlotte, North Carolina with a friend. He would come visit and at times, I would go to North Carolina and take him to dinner.

I divorced and moved my daughter and I to Cowpens, SC to start over. Sometime in 2015 Austin and his friend came to visit me. I could see that something was not right with my son. For a short time, Austin was back and forth from North Carolina to Cowpens. My beautiful and loving son had become addicted to heroin. Oh, my heart. For 3 years I watched my baby boy struggle with his addiction.

This was one of the hardest things I have ever been through. Due to his addiction, my son would steal from his sister and I, sneak out the window, put himself in dangerous situations. There were several times I had to choose tough love and say A LOT of PRAYERS. And yes, there were times I would let him come back. The times I would let him come back; things would progressively get worse. One evening, my daughter came into my room and woke me up stating “Mom, Austin is in his room making all kinds of weird noises and talking to himself.” I got up and went into his room. Austin was sitting on the floor facing the inside of his closet with a needle in his arm. I made him leave. But I always let him come back. My daughter would always get so mad at me and say, “how many times did you say he can’t come back?” I was his mother, I wanted to help him be the Austin that I knew, the Austin that everybody loved. He came back home, then left again after me kicking him out yet again. This time a few days later, I received a phone call at 2 am one morning. Austin was on the other line. All I could hear was someone yelling at him threatening to kill him. I only knew he was in Tennessee, but where in Tennessee I had no idea. I could hear Austin screaming for help. I woke my daughter up to use her phone to call the Tennessee Police. They could not help me because I had no idea where my son was in Tennessee. All I could do was continue to listen to his call with such fear in my heart that he would be killed that morning. The call got disconnected. A short time later, I got another phone call. Austin couldn’t really tell me where he was, he just told me the city he was in. I grabbed my gun and jumped in my car and headed to Tennessee not knowing where I was going or what I would kind of situation I would be walking into. The closer I got Austin called me to let me know he had made it safely to a Waffle House and told me where it was so I could pick him up. I will never forget when I pulled into the Waffle House, he came outside, his clothes had been torn, he had scratches all over him, he hugged me so tight. I brought him home where he would be safe. He again would be in and out. One morning about 6 am I got a call. All the caller would say was I am sorry Regina, they found Austin on the bridge, then hung up. I was frantic. I kept calling the number back and no one would answer. I called all the hospitals; he was not at any of them. I had no choice but to go to work. While at work, I had been crying, I was a mess. My boss took me in his office told me to sit and asked me what was wrong. What I had been experiencing and going through my bosses and co-workers knew. There was no way to hide it. Austin would come to my job at times high. I am thankful to God for giving me a work family. They have been there for me through it all.

There were times I had the police at my house, whether it was me calling them on Austin or him calling them on me trying to get me arrested. The cops knew of him and knew of his drug addiction at this point, so they never took me to jail. They never took him to jail either, they just made him leave. There were times I would pray that he would be arrested. You see if he had been arrested, at least I would know where my son was, and I would be able to sleep. I never had a decent night’s sleep, I was always worrying, and my phone was always going off at all hours from getting phone calls from Austin asking me to come get him. There were many nights he walked the streets, and I had no idea where he was. I spent many days running here and there to find him. No matter what I always, always loved him. Both of my parents were gone, my oldest son was in boot camp. I never burdened my oldest son with what was going on. I was trying to do everything I could on my own. I had no one to help me. I can recall out of pure desperation calling his father and crying out to him, begging him to please help me. I asked him to please take Austin for a week or so to give me a break. All he could say was “I can’t Regina, I am trying to get myself together.” Why did I even think I could count on him? I was desperate. At times I thought I would die from a heart attack with all the stress that I had been under and no one to tell me it’s going to be ok. I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders. There came a point I had to do something for myself.  It was bad and I didn’t know how I was going to handle this any longer. I did some research and found these meetings in Spartanburg that were held by Favor of Greenville. The meetings were for the users as well as the families. Austin didn’t go with me at first, but I went. I found out that Favor had meetings every week in Greenville for the users and family members. Praise God, Austin started going to the meetings in Greenville.

He had been given a favor coach. His coach was great. Through the meetings and the counseling sessions, we filled out applications for Austin to go to Rehabs. At this point my oldest son was home for a couple of weeks before going to Japan. Austin received a phone call stating that a space had opened up for him in Columbia. I was so happy. Come time to go, Austin did not want to go. I was at work and did ask Ryan, my oldest son to please take him to Columbia. Ryan agreed. Before even getting on the highway Austin had talked his brother into going to his friend’s house to say good bye (so he said). Of course, Austin came back to the car high. He had gone into the house to get some heroin. Ryan called me in despair, he didn’t know what to do. I called Favor, then called the facility where he was supposed to go. They said just bring him in. Ryan took him. As soon as Austin got there, he was calling me telling me he didn’t want to be there and to tell Ryan to turn around to come back and get him. I said no son, if you leave, I am done with you. I said we can’t do this anymore. The calls came in constantly for about 2 days. Finally, he went through withdrawals and was doing his counseling. He was doing good. I would drive to Columbia for visitation. It was so great to see him clean. He had been in just a little over 30 days. I finally got some sleep not having to worry about getting that phone call. When Austin’s time came up to leave Columbia, I was not ready for him to come back home for fear he would fall right back into his routine and old habits. I found a place in Greenville, and slated him a bed (which is what they called it). Meaning, I had to pay money to hold his spot. I did it because I felt better knowing he was somewhere where he couldn’t get easy access to heroin. This particular facility would let their patrons walk to the store. Come on, anyone can pick up drugs on the way to the store. Austin was doing well for a short time. I would go to Greenville, take him out to eat, take him to Walmart to buy him groceries, clothes, whatever he needed. I was going to do anything in my power to help him, as long as he was helping himself.

I got a phone call; Austin had been kicked out of that Facility. I was so upset. A good friend of his picked him up and found another place in Greenville for him to go. I was a little bit closer to Spartanburg than the other one. Again, I was going back and forth taking him out to eat, taking him to get groceries. He did good for a bit. I let him come home again. The cycle started all over again. Only this time, Austin had experimented with meth. But his drug of choice was heroin. All the clothes, the shoes, anything he owned would be left at someone’s house. I would have to go to these drug houses trying to get my son’s clothes back as well as his license and social security card. He had lost his license numerous times. I finally got smart and made him copies of his license and social security card. Of course, there were many times we did not get his things back. Someone got new clothes and new shoes.

Again and again, he would come back, and I would throw him out. One day I reached out to Favor again, they gave me a list of facilities. I called Miracle Hill in Gaffney. They had an opening. Austin would not go when I wanted him to. I remember driving him to a friend’s house in Chesnee for him to stay. It had been snowing that day. The next day Austin called me and told me he wanted to go to Miracle Hill. I went to Chesnee and picked him up right away and took him to Miracle Hill. I am grateful his friend talked him into going. I would be forever grateful to her.
Miracle Hill in Gaffney did not charge me a dime to take him in. They had structure. They got him through his withdrawals, fed him, clothed him, did counseling with him, shared the word of God with him, got him a job, took him to that job, got him to church. He attended Encounter of Gaffney, where Joey Turner is the pastor. My beautiful son got saved, he even sang in the choir. Oh my God can I tell you how good it felt to be worshiping the LORD with my son.

Going to Miracle Hill was the best thing that ever happened for my family. My daughter and Austin had made amends. He told her how sorry he was and how much he loved her, and he was sorry he wasn’t the brother he should have been. What a glorious few months we had. Austin was doing so good; he was moved to the house from the harbor.

Something upset Austin and he wanted to come home. He had a good job and was finally on the right path. Let me just tell you when he told me he wanted to come home, my heart was literally in my throat. I begged him to please stay a little longer. I was so afraid he would relapse.

Austin came home. We got him a car so he could get back and forth to work. We still attended Church for a period of time. Austin started hanging around his old friend Meagan. I knew this was not good. To give you a little history about Meagan. She and Austin met while working at the Huddle House. He turned her on to Heroin. He felt so much guilt for this. He always told me it was his fault and he needed to be there for her no matter what. After being clean for months, he started disappearing again. There were times he and I would go out to eat at a restaurant, he would fall asleep sitting at the table. I knew he had relapsed again. My fear had become true. I thought, here we go again. I remember so clearly a day where he was sitting in his car, and I was sitting on the edge of the door frame. I was crying to him, pleading with him. He cried too. He said Mom, do you think I want to be this way? He said I don’t, but I can’t stop, I don’t know how. My heart broke. Seeing your child hurt like that is torture. I prayed and prayed and cried on my knees to God.

July 4th week of 2018, my daughter and I went to the beach to meet my brother for vacation. I was there maybe 2 full nights. I spoke to Austin July 8 about 7 am. He sounded good. I said son you have everything going for you, you got this. Told him I loved him. About 5:30 am my phone was going off; it was vibrating so I didn’t hear it the first time. It went off again, Madison said Mom your phone. There it was, the phone call I had been dreading, the call no parent wants to get. I could not believe what I was hearing. I asked to speak to the paramedic in disbelief as I didn’t believe it. The paramedic confirmed my worst fear. My son was gone. I had to drive my daughter and myself all the way home alone from Myrtle Beach crying the whole way home. I was desperate to get to my son. All I could think about was getting to him to hold him.

When I arrived at the house he was found in, he had already been taken by the coroner. I had to meet with the coroner. I wanted to see my baby boy. They would not let me. I was informed that there would be an autopsy as well as a toxicology test performed. In the meantime, I kept hearing different stories about how my son spent his last hours and how he died. I could not believe some of the things I heard. Needless to say, some of the stories were not true, because I know where he was found. He was at a friend’s home who loved him like a son. The true story was that Meagan took Austin to her dealer to get heroin. She got some too.

You cannot imagine the sleepless nights I had, the days I wept and could not stop. I did not eat for a long time. I had no appetite. My heart had been shattered. Where there were 3 parts of my heart, there were now only 2. It felt like forever for the toxicology and autopsy report to come back. I knew in my heart that Austin would not have overdosed on heroin. In all of our conversations he would always tell me “Mom that’s not going to happen, I know just how much to do.” The coroner had me come into the office once the report was done to get a copy and pick up Austin’s belongings that were on his body at the time of his death. The toxicology report showed that there were 3 types of Fentanyl in his system. NOT 1 trace of heroin. I was angry, I was angry with Meagan. My heart could not believe what happened. How is she still alive and he isn’t? I called the detective to let him know that I had the toxicology report and what the results were and asked him what he was going to do about it. This man (the detective) said to me “there would be no drug dealers if there were no users.” I was pissed and hurt. I felt as if he had put a knife in my heart all over again. I said excuse me. Then said if there were no dealers there would be no users. I asked him if he had children, he said yes. I said I pray this doesn’t happen to your family because this drug does not discriminate. The police knew who Meagan got this Fentanyl from that killed my son. They have done nothing about it. As a parent you want to hurt the person who took your child from you.

I hate when people say addiction is a choice. NO IT IS NOT. I lived it, I’ve seen it firsthand. Yes, do you make a choice the first time. Once you are addicted, you are addicted, there are no more choices. Being addicted, going through withdrawals is like someone holding your head under water and you trying to gasp for air.

I continued to attend Encounter Church after I could get myself together. I could see my beautiful son still up on the stage singing in the choir. I have videos of such precious moments. One of my proudest times of him was when he stood on stage and gave his testimony about the youth trip he went on.

I write this story because I want people to know what God did for me. There were many desperate nights I got on my knees and cried out to God to please take my son’s pain and struggles. I could not bear to see him struggle like he was any longer. God took my son when he knew my son was saved, he knew Austin’s heart. God has kept me and still walks beside me daily. I could have easily given up and taken my own life. God has given my life a purpose. That purpose is to worship God, share my story, and help someone in life.  I am thankful for Miracle Hill in Gaffney. They truly helped my family and for that I will always help the harbor. The best song to describe me and what God has done is My Jesus- By Anne Wilson. I am her in the video.

My Advice

I would let them know there is hope. God does answer prayers. There are places they can get help. I am here if anyone should need to talk, find a meeting, scream or just need prayers.
When I got on my knees, I would ask God to take my son because I didn’t want to see him suffer anymore. The best thing Miracle Hill did was to get him to Church and got him saved. It was the best 3 months we had together.