Jamie’s Story

Our beloved 35-year-old son, Jamie died as a result of a “cocktail” of heroin and meth. A trace of ecstasy along with his prescribed medications were also found in his system.

Jamie struggled during most of his life with a depressive disorder, which led to his having low self-esteem and self-medicating or addictions beginning when he was approximately 15. We rode the rollercoaster, that many of you have experienced until he graduated from high school. After telling him that should he choose to go to college, to continue to party, to flunk out, and to waste a huge amount of our money, he was out of the house and on his own until he “grew up.” During his senior year, being really bright, he pre-enlisted in the Navy, entered just after his 18th birthday, served four years, including tours in Okinawa, Somalia, and was honorably discharged. The discipline that his service provided tempered his behaviors and addictions; however, within a year of his discharge, he lost total control. His drugs of choice became alcohol and cocaine, but he admitted that he had “tried” everything. When we and he knew that he was at the bottom, most probably facing jail or death, he went into rehab for a month at the end of which he ran, we returned to San Diego and he entered the McDonald Center for another month or six weeks. Jamie was 23 years old at this time, and my husband and I knew that he was truly the master of his fate and that all we could do is love and support him.

Jamie lived in a sober living house for close to 2 years, worked, started college again, and attended lots of meetings, ultimately working with CA. With his strength, desire, the help of his sponsor, who loved him as a son, and some amazing friends he made in the program who became his California family (We’re from Texas.), Jamie stayed sober for one month short of eleven years. During these years we have not only amassed wonderful memories, but Jamie grew up, traveled extensively, met a young woman he loved and married, finished college, was very successful at whatever job he held, and on July 11, 2009, became a father, to a son, Matthew.

Jamie was an extremely tenderhearted man who wept when he saw his sister in her wedding dress, wept when he saw his bride, wept when he learned that he would have a little “surfing and camping” buddy, and wept on the day of his son’s birth. He loved his family (blood & non-blood), animals, the ocean, surfing, and traveling.

My husband and I living so far away were truly unaware of what was happening. We did know that he used prescribed drugs; he had gone to a psychiatrist (which he refused to do when he got sober for he knew he would be put on meds). I noticed changes in Jamie when we went to California after/for the babies’ births and spoke to him about his speaking to his psychiatrist about the meds he was taking. I believed the meds were the problem.

We just learned in September 09 of his using: a hallucinogen and pot late in 08, and eventually he started mixing meth, ecstasy, and heroin in various cocktails in addition to taking his prescribed meds. His wife, sister, her husband, his sponsor, and best friend staged two interventions a week apart in mid September 2009. After the first, he lied when he went to the detox center and was refused entry. After the second, he was left in a hotel room to decide what he wanted, and after a horrifying night of worry, his best friend called at 7 and gladly took him to the rehab center he had chosen. He remained there for 1 month. His father in law and I picked him up on October 23rd. He didn’t want to stay in rehab longer, but he went into a sober living house from which he returned to work, attended meetings, and saw his wife and son as much as was possible. Early in December, he moved back in to the house, for he wanted to be with his family. I have to say that I advised against it; however, he was a 35-year-old man and had to make his own choices.

I came in on Christmas Day and for 6 days spent as much time as I could with both my daughter, Jennifer and Jamie, their spouses, and my precious, grandson, Matthew, Jamie’s son (5 months) and granddaughter, Charlee, Jennifer’s daughter (4 months). The last time I saw Jamie was December 30th when he, his sister, Jennifer, her husband, and I went to the Holiday Bowl. After the game Jamie and I hugged, kissed, said, “I love you” as we did after every conversation, and I said, “See you in March,” as I planned to come in for his sister’s and wife’s birthdays.

Jamie was an avid surfer who had surfed big waves all over the world. He had gone to Todos Santos, off the Baja coast with a friend before the new year and it got him all fired up to get back into surfing and the waters he so loved. Some time in early January, when no one he called was able to go with him, he went alone. What exactly happened, we’ll never really know, but he was hit by a 30 foot wave and a board and after really hurting his leg stayed the night in Mexico. This is when we believe that he bought drugs, and very quickly became entrenched with trying for the ultimate cocktail. Both Jennifer and I spoke to him the evening of the February 8th, and although his wife and baby were in Florida to meet some of his wife’s family, we thought all was okay. Jamie was found, having fallen over the back of his sofa (as if walking forward), at 8:00 the next morning. Along with the many, many tears shed that day, it rained most of the day in San Diego on February 9, 2010.

Too many similar stories, leaving too many broken hearts and futures,

Barbara, Jamie’s Mom