His mother's wedding ring bought him 200 balloons of heroin.

His dad's tools and the family cameras also paid to feed his addiction.

"I'd wake up feeling like crap and go out to the garage," 20-year-old Jason said. "In my head, I knew it was wrong and I didn't want to do it, but I was physically addicted. Or I'd go downstairs to the family room trying to see what I could gather up to pawn or give to my (drug dealer) to trade."

After Jason gutted the garage of tools, ladders and anything valuable, he moved on to the bedrooms.

"I took wedding rings, cameras, some really sentimental things to my parents," he said. "All because of addiction. I wouldn't do it if I was sober. I love my family. I don't know if my mom will ever forgive me. I've come clean about it, told her about it. She knows I'm really sorry."

But he knows the apology sounds a bit hollow.

After all, everything is gone.

When Jason, not his real name, first started doing heroin, he had a job and money to buy his drugs.

He soon lost that job and his financial security. But not his addiction.

Rather than steal from neighbors or sober up, Jason found a steady source of income just down the stairs.

"It's so much easier to wake up and go through your own house," he said. "The addiction comes first. It's priority number one."

He would load things up in a friend's truck and sometimes take them to a pawnshop, but most items just went straight to his drug dealer.

This plan of action is nothing new. Every drug addict Jason knows has stolen from a family member.

It's just so easy.

But in those cases, the emotional damage is far greater than a typical burglary or robbery, police officers say.

It's not just an impersonal loss of a generator or a saddle — it's a violation of trust that leaves parents and siblings feeling betrayed, police overworked and pawnshops caught in the middle as they try to screen out what items are honest sales, versus possessions that have been nabbed from mom and dad's dresser.

It's an awkward situation, and many parents are hesitant to speak out about their losses.

Some are afraid the neighbors will judge them. Others worry they'll be labeled a bad parent. Or that their children will be shunned, for being both addicts and thieves who steal from their own.

The parents who shared their stories with the Deseret News didn't want their real names used because of shame. To these families, this is a private battle, yet one that police officers routinely see across the Wasatch Front.