Heroin Crisis Escalates, Young People Share Stories, Come Together To Save Lives

As Michael’s Hope gains momentum — the group was started by Laurel resident Paul Maffetone to honor his brother, who died at 29 of a heroin overdose in 2012 — members are sharing their stories and the journeys of those who have recovered from addiction, in the hope of saving young lives.

One member of Michael’s Hope, Trevor Murray of Coram, is one of the many donning ‘I Hate Heroin” hats and bracelets, as the message resonates powerfully on the North Fork and across Long Island.

This week, Murray and his friend Joseph*, spoke openly with Patch. Murray shared his passion for helping others find their way to recovery, including Joseph, who described his harrowing battle with heroin addiction.

Joseph*, 29, had a storybook childhood growing up in East Moriches.

Although his parents got divorced when he was four years old, he had an admittedly “awesome” childhood, surrounded by friends, doing well in school, and surrounded by love from his family.

But even the best of childhoods wasn’t enough to save him from the tentacles of heroin addiction.

He began smoking marijuana when he was 13; his older brother by three years, introduced him to weed, he said.

“I introduced it to my friends, I was kind of the pioneer of the kids in my grade. I loved it,” he said. “That was how it started.”

Joseph had his first drink at 14. “I really enjoyed that because it made me feel like Superman; I could do anything. I wasn’t scared of anything.”

By freshman year at Westhampton Beach High School, Joseph said he was drinking in the morning before classes, in school, and after school. “I remember being 15, and I couldn’t wait to go home at night and go to an upstairs room in the attic. I’d tell my mom, ‘I’m going to sleep,’ and then I’d go up there to drink and smoke weed by myself.”

He said he wasn’t bullied or a loner; he just enjoyed how alcohol and marijuana made him feel. “It made me feel good,” he said.

While away at an upstate college, Joseph had a best friend who introduced him to cocaine.

His family, he said, had warning signs of what was to come, as they saw him immersed in a party lifestyle, coming home drunk and spending all too many mornings hung over.

Eventually, he began to lose contact with his family. “I was selfish, putting on a facade that everything was all right. Looking back, things were not all right. I was getting wasted three, four, five, six nights a week and doing drugs. Staying up all night.”

Although he managed to keep up with his schoolwork, Joseph’s life was beginning to unravel.

Shortly after, at 19, he had two teeth pulled and was introduced to opiates after he was prescribed Vicodin for the pain.

After the first pill, he said, “I was lying on the couch and it just felt great. The next time, I took one pill and then another right after and I’ll never forget that feeling. I went out that night with friends and was talking up a storm, feeling great. I went home and said to myself, ‘This was a good high.’”

The descent into addiction spiraled rapidly downward soon after. Seeking out opiates at college and back home, he got into “harder opiates” such as OxyContin during his last two years of college, which, he said, were easier to obtain upstate. Back at home, he’d drink, do ecstasy, and cocaine, because it was harder to find opiates locally.

But in 2009, his last year of college, his addiction took a turn for the worse, when Joseph said he got hooked on OxyContin. “When I got home, that’s all I really cared about,” he said.

Next, Joseph started dating a girl from Port Jefferson who introduced him to heroin, which he began shooting intravenously right away.

At 22, Joseph’s plans for a career in criminal justice dissipated as he was faced with a string of arrests, including a charge for selling marijuana, which he did to support his habit, and DWI charges, he said.

“I wanted to be a police officer, but that changed,” especially after a felony charge, he said. “That’s when I started separating myself from everyone else. That’s all I did, was heroin. I shot heroin and cocaine all the time.”

On probation after one arrest, Joseph chose to go to jail rather than rehab. “I didn’t want to be labeled as an addict or an alcoholic,” he said. After five-and-a-half months in jail, he vowed never to do heroin again, but in a few weeks, was back in the drug’s deadly grip.

“Ultimately, that’s all that was on my mind. It gave me the feeling of not caring for anything, not feeling anything.”

His voice solemn, Joseph describes stealing from “everyone in my family. The cops were looking for me because I had stolen things and pawned them.” His father arranged for a rehab in Florida. “It was an incredibly great experience but I wasn’t ready to full be sober at this point. I was 23 and still wanted to go to the bar and drink and meet girls. I thought I could drink like a normal person.”

After rehab came a series of revolving doors, one rehab and sober house after another — at one point staying sober for seven months before he “went on another run” —as Joseph tried valiantly to remain sober and relapsed, again and again, stealing from his family and everyone he knew.

During the dark years, he met Murray, who was in recovery; they soon forged a friendship and Murray has supported Joseph on the journey toward a new life.

The last time he hit bottom, Joseph called his mother. “It was really bad here on Long Island. I called my mother, who had moved to Georgia, and I told her I needed to get out of town or I’d end up in jail or dead,” he said.

Once in Georgia, he quit using drugs and went cold turkey into withdrawal, drawing support from his mother and brother and seeking treatment.

This week, on January 16, he celebrated two years of sobriety.

“My life today is absolutely incredible,” he said. “Everyone has forgiven me, and is still there for me 100 percent. I’m so grateful. I have great family, great friends, great support, and a wonderful girlfriend.”

Looking back, he said he wasn’t ready to let go of drugs until two years ago. “This time around, I’d just had completely enough,” Jospeh said. “I was staying on my drug dealer’s couch. My whole family was just disgusted. They were worried sick. My mother is amazing, the most loving mother in the world, but I wouldn’t return her calls. It got to the point where I had nobody. I had nothing. I didn’t want to live anymore. But I’d had the taste of sobriety in the past, and I knew it was possible, so I took the step, to get back to that.”

Addiction, he and Murray said, can happen to anyone, young or old, rich or poor. And once an addict commits to recovery, both say they have seen “the most amazing transformations. The bottom line is there’s so much hope out there,” Joseph said. “Anyone can change. Those that live the darkest lives have transformed into the most incredible people I’ve ever met.”

Murray, who has heard Joseph tell his story many times, and lived through his journey, said he worried about losing his friend, a very real terror.

But listening to Joseph tell his story of survival and rebirth into sobriety, Murray said, “Brings tears to my eyes.”

Through his own recovery, Murray said while he’ll never be happy that he’s lived through the dark throes of addiction, “There’s a purpose behind such tragedy and being part of positive change in people’s lives.”

That’s why Michael’s Hope, where Murray is a member alongside founder Maffetone, means everything, he said.

“When people ask for help, they are empty. You look into their eyes, and they’re just a shell of a human being, no soul left. They aren’t bad, but they’re depleted.”

Joseph today, he said, has a “light in his eyes, he’s happy, charming, and to watch that transformation happen, it’s my greatest joy in life.”

After years spent missing life, recovery means a heightened sense of joy and gratitude in the every day miracle of birds chirping or sunshine, or even normal problems, ”because we get to handle them. It’s the greatest thing ever, for us,” Murray said.

Reflecting on his own journey, Murray said, “When I first asked for help, I was nothing but a liability. The more you loved me, the more I hurt you.” While all his life he’s had a “heart of gold,” trying to help others even before himself, he’s able now to rejoice now in being able to make it up to his family, being the first to help if his grandfather calls or standing tall at his brother’s wedding. ”Whatever my family needs, I’m there,” he said. “And it’s not about how great I am, it’s about the incredibly powerful process of recovery. It’s remarkable.”

But with too many friends lost far too young, a “brutal” reality Joseph and Murray have endured, both agree that there’s an urgent need to be proactive in fighting back against addiction, in raising awareness in schools and communities — education in the school system about the dangers of drugs and alcohol is critical, Murray said.

For those on the North Fork and East End who say heroin is not a problem, Joseph said the problem is pervasive everywhere.

“I used to go to Mattituck to get heroin,” he said.

Working with Maffetone with his Michael’s Hope mission, Murray said, is deeply meaningful; Maffetone, who said his brother Michael was his hero and protector, is exactly how he feels about his own brother.

Michael’s Hope aims to make people pay attention, Murray said. “We’re loud and we want to be loud. We wear hats and bracelets that say ‘I Hate Heroin.’”

Perhaps the greatest facet of his recovery, Murray said, is seeing his family recover from his addiction. “My family was in complete shambles. My mother looked ill, not sleeping. To have her be free of that, it’s incredible, a powerful thing. I get to cry with my mom now when she tells me what that fear was like. It’s been over five years since I got sober but those emotions are deep-rooted and painful.” His grandmother, he added quietly, still worries. “Any time she calls my mom and my mom sounds off, she asks, ‘Is Trevor okay?’’ That breaks my heart. She’s 86 years old.”

As for Maffetone, hearing stories such as Joseph’s just inspires him even further to move forward with his passionate mission to save lives.

“When I hear stories like that, it gives me hope. I think it really gives everyone hope, that this disease can be beaten, it’s hard work on an everyday basis but it can be beaten,” Maffetone said.

He’s filed the paperwork for Michael’s Hope to become a 501c3 not-for-profit and is just waiting for final approval.

Most recently, Maffetone and his group met with Greenport Village Trustee Doug Roberts to discuss addressing the board with a presentation on Michael’s Hope, as well as possibly setting up a Narcan training session.

Greenport isn’t the only North Fork community poised for action: Maffetone has met with Rev. Tom MacLeod of the North Fork United Methodist Church, hoping to plan a community event where a film on heroin addiction will be shown, along with a Michael’s Hope presentation.

In addition, Narcan training is coming to Mattituck: A two hour session will be given on Feb. 4 at the Mattituck Fire Department, from 5:30 p.m. to 7:30 p.m with Robert Delagi.

Michael’s Hope efforts will also be spread across Long Island. The group is presenting to all the health classes at Glen Cove High School Feb. 3 and 4. The group plans to address groups across both Suffolk and Nassau Counties; a Manorville event is in the works right now.

“Our belief is very simple: that education is the foundation to recovery, not only for the abuser but for the families and communities as well. With that understanding, it seems very evident to us at Michael’s Hope that education must begin with the youth. . . Thorough education needs to begin with the youth for the purpose of giving children the opportunity to make an informed decision for their lives when confronted with these substances,” Maffetone said.

He added, “Michaels Hope presents stories from those who have been directly affected by addiction. We aim to raise awareness of the current epidemic we are living through, how addiction comes to pass for many, and very passionately for us, the tremendous hope of being a helping hand in ending the negative stigma connected to addiction as a whole. We have a saying here at Michael’s Hope which represents everything we stand for: ’The ugliest disease lies in the most beautiful people.’”

*Joseph is not the subject’s real name; he asked to remain anonymous.

Patch photos courtesy of Michael’s Hope.