Mev Brown: Few know true horror of drugs

Over the last nine years, I have worked with the homeless in a broad range of services and settings, some more "front line" than others.

I am often asked about my experiences in working with drug addiction and about "the other side" of Edinburgh. In some services, you can't avoid becoming familiar with the realities of drugs. My experiences are by no means unique. Other workers will no doubt have worse stories to tell.

For obvious reasons there are no names, dates or locations.

I find few people truly understand the nature of addiction. On one occasion, in the small hours of the morning, the building was quiet and I was coming down the corridor heading for the staff office.

A new lad had come in earlier and was sorting out his stuff, he didn't notice me and I was not really paying him any attention.

Then I heard the sound of a bottle breaking. He was clearly upset and I watched him crouch down and pick up the remains of the bottle and put it in a bin. He then got down on all fours and started to lick up the contents of the bottle. Even with my experience, I couldn't take in what I was seeing. The building was regularly cleaned, but still - what could possess him? And then I realised, off course, that it had been a bottle of methadone.

He saw me, and I asked him into a side office to talk, but he did the talking. He was horrified, absolutely horrified and close to tears. This was what his life had become. Next morning he left and I never saw him again.

In working with addicts, you can't be judgemental. But when you get to know the person behind the addiction, it is impossible to be judgemental.

Part of the work simply involves getting to know people and their stories. Sometimes clients volunteer information. One young lass that had been using the service for a few weeks had told me that she worked a prostitute.

I asked her how she got into prostitution and she said that her dealer had suggested it to help pay for her heroin addiction. So, how did she get into heroin?

And, this was the thing, her dad was her dealer.

She spoke affectionately of her dad, and clearly loved him, just as clearly as she didn't see anything wrong in their relationship. She looked and sounded like a typical teenager. Except, how typical was her childhood, how typical was her family life and how typical was her future?

Heroin addiction in particular is closely associated with acquisitive crime. I recall one lad that had nodded off one day. When he woke up, somebody had stolen his trainers.

Addiction can happen in any family. I took a phone call from a very distraught, but well-spoken, woman. Her son was stealing. It had all started with him borrowing money and never paying it back. Then money started to "disappear". Then he lost his job. Then household items started disappearing. Then family and friends started to mention the same thing. Then he confessed, and she didn't know what to do.

I advised that she had three main options: First, contact his GP and try to get a methadone script, which can take time. Second, call the police. Getting him "in the system" can speed up the process. Third, if she and her husband had enough money, refer him to a private clinic.

They didn't have the money.

And she had done her homework about methadone. Her sense of helplessness was palpable. She thanked me and hung up.

I would ask, when would you put your life at risk?

Most people would risk their life to protect their kids.

Many put their life at risk in the service of their country.

The Ipswich murders give an important perspective to drug addiction. The murders of five prostitutes happened between October 30 and December 10, 2006.

All five women were heroin addicts. The later victims knew there was a serial killer on the loose, and were offered methadone - the offer was declined. They were willing to take their chances. They put their life at risk to secure their next heroin fix. Think about that. That is the power of addiction.

These days, politicians are always calling for a grown-up debate on various issues. But I fear that for the vast majority of politicians, they will get no closer to the reality of drugs and addiction than an Inspector Rebus novel.

And I get exasperated when I hear people talking about decriminalisation or even legalisation, I wonder if they have any first-hand experience of what drugs can do. When I hear the arguments in favour I ask myself, why stop there? Why not legalise murder, armed robbery, shoplifting and burglary? Our laws define our values as a society, our values as a civilised nation. And that is something of which politicians on both sides of the debate have lost sight. Surely by now, it is clear that we need some new thinking on drugs?

Mev Brown is an independent candidate for the Lothians in the Scottish Parliament elections