Rock star Amy Winehouse has been all over the news since her drug overdose in August. "That's not my Amy," her mother told the press. "She's not someone I recognize." You don’t have to be a mother to recognize the agony parents go through when their kid, no matter how old, is strung out on alcohol or drugs – but it helps. I'm sure my mother felt much like Amy's when I showed up on her doorstep after five years of drug abuse – the last six months of it on heroin. It must have just about killed her. I went into treatment, but gave up after three weeks. I wish I'd known about real drug rehab years before.

Actually, what I really wish I'd known about, and what may have forced me to find a drug rehab program, is how it feels to see someone you care about in that condition – a condition I didn't even recognize because I was so out of touch with reality. I would guess I weighed under 100 pounds, had absolutely no color in my face, and probably looked at least 20 years older than my 20 years. And more haggard than the most debilitated 40-year-old.

Not to mention that it was virtually impossible to have a conversation with me. I showed up on my Mom's doorstep having taken the first plane I could find out of Boston so I could get away from the dealer who was after me with a gun. I hadn't had a hit for eight or 10 hours, and I was already somewhat incoherent.

Mom took me to a hospital that apparently had drug treatment available. Real drug rehab facilities weren't common in those days. I suppose the hospital thought they could handle it, but they put me on methadone, which drove me crazy. One Monday morning I woke up with absolutely no memory of the weekend. I thought it was Saturday. I was told I'd spent much of the weekend stealing things out of people's lockers and picking little flowers off the solid green carpeting.

My mother, as usual, was at my side that Monday morning when I 'came to.' She'd been there most of the weekend. Wanting to do anything she could to help but, really, she was helpless. Had she known about real drug rehab, she would have had a solution.

After only three weeks, I checked myself out of that hospital and went back to drugs. Didn’t see my Mom for another six months. She may have thought I was dead. But in the condition I was in, I was oblivious to everyone and everything.

Six months later, I finally got clean and left the drug-infested environment I lived in so I could stay that way. I went to my Mom, and, of course, she helped me get back on my feet. And, it worked. I never took drugs again.

It's now decades later. Telling this story, and looking at what my mother went through, almost makes me cry - for her. Unfortunately, she passed away. I don’t know that I ever really made it up to her. Even after I was off drugs, she worried for years that I would get back on them. Fortunately, my drug rehab was successful and I never relapsed.

September is National Alcohol and Drug Addiction Recovery Month. If you're a mother, you can save yourself years of agony by getting your kid into successful drug rehab program. Do it now. And if you’re the kid on drugs, whether you're 16 or 60, get cleaned up and do everything you can to make it up to your family. Drug addiction is painful, but it's even worse for the people who love you. Sorry, Mom. I love you.