My daughter Staci died of a heroin overdose Nov 14, 2017 here in South Florida. She was 29, and always will be. I am devastated, angry, lost, and searching for a way to tell her story. Here, in this email, I will try to be succinct.
We are from Long Island, but moved to South Florida as a means to remove then 17 year old Staci from all her connections or triggers at home. Up until then, 3 psychiatrists, a psychiatric facility, a psych hold in a hospital, and a private rehab setting proved to be useless, and expensive. Staci was never prescribed opiates for pain, she was growing up beautifully in a middle class household, and had a background of tennis lessons, bat mitzvah parties, gymnastics, dive team, summer camp, and a cabana in Atlantic Beach for 15 years.
Once her addiction took hold, she went to detox multiple times, rehab more times than I can count, jail, and was Baker Acted here in Florida. She went to a methadone clinic, and was later on suboxone. She was misdiagnosed, un diagnosed, and rerouted to different facilities . No one ever helped her. Everyone loved her in rehab, in group homes, in psyc settings. She lied over and over and over and was cute and funny and silly, and no one reached her. She controlled herself a bit during her pregnancy, when she was 23, but her beautiful son Eli Gabriel died at the age of 3 from Tay Sachs disease. She was sad and sick and broken. She was angry and homeless, and tough loved and loved. She was sweet and athletic and bubbly. No one ever got to the root of the problem, if there was one. She was loud, and her story should be told, loudly. She talked to me almost daily, and now….it’s very quiet.
Story by Laurie Capone