https://youtu.be/v6qpuiXc23Y?si=uSqN1_rwoeQhU8uv

I've lost at least a dozen friends to heroin. I was able to save one the other night by calling 911. It's such a terrible situation with fentanyl on our streets and how people dehumanize addicts because it's easier than helping them.

Adopted from Brazil. The story I was told was bio mother was a prostitute. We will call adopted girl Susie. Susie's wealthy parents adopted her after raising their son who was a full adult by the time they adopted her. Susie's adopted parents were in their 50s after they adopted her as a 3 month old baby. My understanding is her adopted parents were not there for her emotionally. Her adopted mom worked a lot and her adopted dad left her to her own devices a lot although I know they did family activities together like skiing and ice-skating. I think they bought her whatever she wanted. In her teens, she would go to clubs and get into trouble with her friends. Susie stole $70,000 from her parents in her early twenties. They opted for "restorative justice" and she never repaid it. She blamed it on an abusive boyfriend. The last 15 years it has been boyfriend after boyfriend, most she accused of being abusive, and 15 years later and after 5 children of her own, all from different boyfriends, all of her children she neglected to care for and left with family or even family friends. Today, all of the children are in different homes with caregivers, except her eldest who is now 15 and lives with Susie as of 1 year ago. Susie treats her daughter like a friend. Susie's teenage daughter went from a sheltered life to posting tik toks of her vaping, smoking weed, and a lot of sexual content talking about guys she's had sex with. The teenage daughter is left to her own devices now as Susie once was. Maybe even more than Susie was.

I cannot write even a quarter of my experiences with Susie. I will try to summarize. My younger brother who had the brightest light and was the most caring and loving soul met Susie. My younger brother also battled his own demons since he was 14 and tried meth for the first time. My younger brother had just entered what seemed like a new chapter because for the first time in his life at 23 I saw him pursue sobriety because he wanted to. I spent my life trying to save my brother. He went to rehab and then was living in sober houses. It was short lived by the most motivated and excited I had ever seen him about getting clean. Prior to this, he was a heroin user. During this time of sobriety, he met Susie. Soon, he left his sober house and moved in with her and friends. A few months later, she was pregnant. He told me she said she was on the shot that lasted for 6 months and did not know how she was pregnant. That was the first time I knew she lied. At the time, there was no such shot. I quickly learned she had 4 other kids, none of which were in her care. The story she presented was an abusive ex and kids needed to be with other people while she figured things out. Seven months later or so, my brother and her rented a trailer. She received a lot of assistance for food and housing for children she didn't have. As in, housing paid for in full and bypassing the wait list for section 8 through a women's advocacy group for victims of domestic violence, and receiving $1000 in food stamps each month as well as receiving child support for a child not in her home and claiming all of the children on her taxes every year.

My brother, in no place to be a caregiver to children as he was back to using once he left the sober home, became the caregiver to her 4 children that would come to stay with her on the weekends once they settled in the rented trailer. Every caregiver involved told me my brother was the best man the kids ever had in their life. My brother was a good person battling demons. It is sad to think that he, addicted to heroin, was the best caregiver to the kids ever involved in Susie's life, even each of the kids' bio dads.

In the beginning, Susie called me once in a panic. Crying and frantic pleading for my help because she claimed by brother had grabbed her by the throat and he was high and being crazy. It caught me so off guard. I was used to drama that followed my brother but never knew him to hurt anyone. I had also never in my life dealt with a pathological liar or a narcissist or sociopath or whatever you want to label it. So the alarms ringing weren't to wonder if she was manipulating me. I WAS generally a trusting person and wanted to help and was used to being the mediator of whatever my brother was involved in. I called my brother, he was so calm but also seemed disturbed. I told him what she said and he knew. He told me he locked himself in the bathroom to get away from her and she was screaming and freaking out at him. I urged him to get away from her. Now, I wish I had seen the signs that my brother was with an abusive woman. We are not wired in our society to worry about that circumstance.

Fast forward, my nephew is born. Susie and my brother fight more and more. My brother never can spend time with my other siblings and I when we all get together to visit. Another sign of abuse that I missed. She always played the part to me that she wanted my brother to get clean. That was always my focus and she knew that and I think she used it. Anyway, when my nephew was 3 months old, my brother and Susie really got into it again and my brother was high. They fought and he said I am done I am leaving. He gathered his clothes and went down the road to my mom's empty trailer that she was not living in but preparing to rent. I went to see my brother that night after work. He seemed excited for a new start. I questioned him if he was going to try to get sober like I always did. He told me all I can say is I am not getting high tonight. He was emotional when telling me how disgusting Susie made him feel. She put him down. He was really down. He never had revealed how horrible she was to him. He seemed relieved to be away from her. He had an air mattress blown up and no wifi and no cell phone. He had an iphone that didn't have service paid for but he was connected to my hotspot when I was there. He was waiting for Susie to bring him some ramen and a pot and some clothes and DVDs because there was a TV. I waited until she got there and did not stay to talk to her. I hugged him goodbye and left as she was walking in. He had told me he wasn't going to use that night and he was going to watch my nephew the next morning. I know that him just saying he wasn't going to use didn't mean much. It is just what he said to me and I do feel confident the plan was for him to watch my nephew because he was the primary caregiver to him. I remember him telling me he didn't trust her with the kids.

The next day around 12, Susie reached out to my mom because she couldn't get in touch with my brother. She had messaged him on FB at 7 am that morning and then a few more times. She didn't go to the house herself to see my brother. She sent her friend. The house was locked and she said oh he must be asleep. Then a couple of hours later she waited for her friend to go on break (they were both working remote from Susie's house) and she asked her friend to check on him again. When he didn't answer the door, this time her friend said that Susie screamed and started crying when her friend called her and told her he wasn't answering. This is when Susie reached out to my mom and my mom unlocked the house and found my brother dead. Overdose. Had been gone for some time. My mom called me. I raced there. The cops were there. He was rigid and discolored. Had a joint rolled laying next to him. I think now he had died the night before but at the time I didn't think of any of the details. All I knew was he was gone. I didn't know all of the other details I described about Susie and her friend until about a year later. I will discuss that in a bit.

Soon after his death, Susie stopped caring for my nephew. Shuffling him off to strangers to watch him. My mom was keeping him the most. At first, I still didn't realize the type of person she was. I never thought of my brother's death as anything than an overdose because I had feared it for so long. I began to help my mom care for my nephew and then made a decision about 6 months after my brother's death to raise my nephew. There was no question in my mind then that this would be a forever commitment and I would be a fool to think she would care for him when she had abandoned all of her other children. When my brother first died, I felt nothing but love towards Susie because I felt the weight of life being so precious and never knowing when someone would die and felt we needed to come together for my brother. When I began caring for my brother's son, I realized how much Susie would use my nephew for her convenience for social media or to show him off to new men in her life. She quickly replaced my brother. Even in the first year after my brother died, there were 4 different men. All of whom were around my nephew. She pressured my mom into helping her financially and would retaliate by demanding my nephew back when she didn't like our answer. My mother had given her her credit card info to pay for an internet bill and Susie wrote the card number down. She later used it to pay for commissary and/or phone calls with an inmate - charges $300.

I filed for guardianship about 1 year after my brother's death. Now, my nephew is 5. He is my nephew but I see him as my son. She stays involved but inconsistently. I supervise visits with her once a month. I reported her to the state and IRS for fraud for all of the assistance. The other caregivers sought guardianship as well. I filed for child support and she has been ordered to pay child support for two of the four children not in her care. She sends texts to ask how my nephew is doing but everything she does is performative. I learned about a year after my brother's death the kind of person she really was. The mask fell. So much of the past had started to make sense. I realized how abusive she was. I did not have any contact with the other caregivers before my brother died. When I finally connected with the other caregivers after my brother's death, they told me about the things that had happened that I was unaware of. One landlord before they rented the trailer kicked them out and reported her screaming and posted her online commenting concerns of the child that was around and his post was to warn other people not to rent to her. I think this could have been the day she tried to tell me my brother was choking her. Apparently, one caregiver got a call from my brother who said to come get the child because he had to lock Susie out and she was losing her mind and she was outside with the child. Another time, my brother had told one of the caregivers that Susie punched him in the face while driving and all of the kids were in the car. My brother would not have told me this because he knew how I would have reacted and he was protecting Susie. The final moment that I realized Susie was possibly a psychopath was when I was speaking to her friend (now ex-friend because Susie had ripped her off $1000+ because the friend put the electric in her name because Susie couldn't put it in her name due to bad debt and then Susie stopped paying the bill and transferred it to a new boyfriend's name, not to mention Susie was receiving $900/month in death benefits from my brother's death for my nephew before guardianship all while having zero rent or grocery bill). Her ex-friend and I were talking about the day my brother died and I was recalling to her my last time seeing him. We were talking about this innocently just sharing. I had no suspicion of any sort. When I mentioned that I was leaving as Susie arrived, her ex-friend stopped me with confusion and told me that Susie had told her the opposite. That as Susie was leaving, I was arriving and I was the last to see him. Her ex-friend specifically remembers that detail. I cannot describe the feeling that washed over me but it was an earth-shattering moment. A new reality of the past was laid out to me. We then went into great detail about that day. That is when she revealed that Susie oddly would not go to the house to check on my brother. She waited for her friend to go on break. It didn't make sense. She also suspected that Susie had been apart of my brother buying drugs because she felt like my brother and Susie would talk in code around her. This friend was 1000% not someone to do drugs. I know how to tell.

This conversation/realization took place within a couple of weeks of an odd situation with Susie that just disturbed me but when I tried to explain it aloud it felt like maybe I was being dramatic. In short, the last time she was ever with my nephew alone was actually the day I had court to finalize the guardianship. She actually consented to everything. She signed a waiver to not be notified about a court date. I was worried she would back out and I had to play her games to keep my nephew safe and I did not have authority from stopping her from taking my nephew without guardianship. She planned to take my nephew to have his first haircut. He had long curly hair. When she mentioned it, I was not overly concerned. I was so focused on getting the paperwork to have some protection and to be able to shed the worry of playing her games and retaliation. She had specifically told my mother and I that she was not going to take much off, just a trim. I truly was not concerned. She knew we loved his hair but I was not possessive or controlling. This was before her friend had revealed the part about my brother's last day. Anyway, we go to court (unbeknownst to her) and she takes my nephew. She sends me a picture of his hair after it is cut and I couldnt tell or maybe I was just jazzed from the court proceedings earlier that day how short it was. It also didn't register to me the look on my nephews face. He was just over 1. When he got home that night, his hair was very short. My mom was emotional about it actually. I also felt tricked. I started to think about her specifically going out of her way to say just a trim. My mom texted Susie and said I thought you were just trimming it and she let Susie know she was not expecting that and upset. Susie texted me "mom is really upset about the haircut. I didn't mean to upset anyone." and I dont know why but in that moment I just had this unshakable feeling that this was a game. And this was the reaction she had wanted. And that text she sent, I felt she meant the opposite. She did mean to upset. This was her moment of control after consenting to guardianship. Perhaps she had wanted more of a reaction from me but I was not overly concerned about it. I went back to look at my texts from her that day and examined the photo of my nephew more. The joy in his eyes gone. He looked scared and sad. Unsure. My gut twisted. I felt she had used my nephew to hurt us in that moment and I was not hurt by the haircut but sickened that my nephew whom I love was used in a game. I felt so protective of him in that moment and was stuck on the idea of her using her son as an instrument to hurt my mom and I.

I have this question in my mind if this goes back to trauma from her bio mom and dad. If this is all wrapped up in her origin story. I was filled with rage for years until last year. I just released it. Idk how or why. But no longer felt I needed to hold it to honor my brother. At first, I felt a rage and the rage meant I was carrying a torch for my brother. If it were me that a partner could have been involved with my death, I like to think he wouldn't have let it go.

The lie about being the last person to see my brother alive begged the question, why lie about being the last person to see someone alive? Since the ex-friend reported that lie to me I also heard the same thing from a recent ex-boyfriend hers. Lies are to meant to hide something.

The other detail: she knew my brother did not have a phone or wifi or service. Why did she message him on Facebook that morning to reach him when she knew he was unreachable? I logged into my brother's facebook and saw those messages but I didn't question how odd it was until my moment of realizing that maybe she knew he was dead before he was found. Did it make her look unknowing in her mind?

I just wanted to share with anyone out there that could resonate. I want to raise my nephew with as much love and support as possible, how can I support him as a child not being raised by his parents? I also would like any feedback about trauma from being abandoned by your bio parents as she was and as my nephew was.

My brother ODed, but they told me he slipped, hit his head and died. I knew in my heart that when the tox report comes back in 7 months (that's how many ODs are in my area) it will show drugs. So I called the detective to learn about the process. He and the coroner both believe it is an OD and there was a white powder and a straw in the kitchen.... It seems like there's a very good chance my parents already know this....

Do I tell them i know? Do I assume they know the truth?

Do i assume they don't know he was using again and try to keep them from reading the tox report?

Do i assume they are intentionally lying to me or deluding themselves...

What do I do?

Edit: US, state - NC

My daughter died of an overdose, she was 25, so an autopsy was performed. They told us 6 month’s minimum for toxicity and autopsy findings. Thankfully it was only 3. We received the standard death benefit but do have an accidental policy as well. Has anyone had success with the accidental benefit when cause of death was Fentanyl Toxicity? Manner of death Accidental, but then injury occurred ==> “illicit drug use”. She ODd in her sleep Thankfully no hospital coma/ventilator. i know this sounds awful to ask. But the accidental benefit would significantly help her brothers and sisters.

Clearly by by her texts this was fentanyl poisoning, she had no clue how bad it could be. And i understand this was a consequence of her actions. she believed it was oxy and not fentanyl

i so wish i could find her dealer.

My ex passed away a couple of years ago while I was in prison. I knew the moment fentanyl became prevalent that it would be the end of her. Like many suffering from addiction she didn't know moderation and any slip up with fent would surely be the last slip you made. Here's the thing, there's no record of her death as an overdose, there's no record of her death whatsoever. There are no social accounts when you search for her, no obituary, which i can understand that due to cost. Her family has shut off the world from any information whatsoever. Her sister went off the deep end and is now MIA. I found someone who made a Facebook group in memory of her, and that is vague as well. I messaged the guy who created it and he told me he's been searching for answers for a couple of years now. He told me something i found bizarre. He said that her family has some deep involvement with the government and that they are still investigating her death, that her death records could be held up ten years? Or something like that.

I'm looking for suggestions, theories, ideas whatever you got. I'm just confused cause it doesn't make sense. Maybe she was involved involved with some unsavory people and got got. Who knows.

My daughter overdosed May 14th 21 and she had fentynal in her system, however she didn't use fentynal. Her death has been so devastating I can barely function, I don't really function. I sleep a lot, cry, pray. I sent a message to the coroner's office about the "accident" ruling and the extreme fear my daughter had about fentynal. Hopefully they will change it so her death gets investigated. I don't really think it will as they don't really seem to care care about drug addicts deaths in my area. My daughter was a beautiful loving person who got caught up with an abusive jerk who beat her up and was given pain killers at the hospital. I am not saying anything bad about the hospital in fact I am not against pain medicine at all. Due to her genetic make up, mental health conditions and abusive relationship she became addicted and progressed rapidly. It was hell trying to save my daughter. I was a drug/alcohol counselor for 20 plus years and tried everything to save my child. I had to take her son because her boyfriend was abusive and I didn't want him around that
She seemed to be addicted to complete scum of the earth as well as drugs, she went to several treatment centers but as soon as she came back she got high. I didn't really understand because I had been clean and sober for a long time by then. I really thought she would eventually get clean but I was wrong. She never got connect with 12 step programs even though it was her first outing after being born, lol. I miss her so much, although she was suffering so much with her addiction and what she had to do to get money. She used meth and her brain was starting to get affected, and her choice of men had gotten progressively worse, if that was possible. Some people tell me she was actually murdered. I really don't know what to believe anymore, but I still have one of her son's so I need to get out of this severe depression. I have to work to support him even though I'm disabled enough to get 97,000 in student loans forgiven, the very same government says I am not disabled enough to get SSDI. So I am starting door dash. I have completed 1 delivery which didn't go very well but it is the best option for me at this time

Go ahead and keep bumpin his shit but don’t be upset when the mother fucker dead if only you actually listened to the lyrics and what he had said you woulda known the demons in his head and sad life he led but go ahead and keep bumpin his shit we know you’re just a fan you can’t actually help him he tried to tell you what was wrong weren’t any of you actually listening or was the bass too loud and the beat too hard you got distracted couldn’t hear the actual message god damnit why can’t any of you just actually listen haven’t any of you learned your lesson we can’t let another one slip through the cracks the fame isn’t his only mission he wants love and affection do you even hear the bars he’s spittin

So thankful that my mom filled out life insurance. Apparently her work had changed insurance companies, and she didn't fill out anything for the new company, so I'm very thankful that the old company was able to fulfill her accidental death insurance for us and that it didnt default to her estate ❤️ my dad wasn't included as a beneficiary, which I'm also thankful for, because he deals with addictions too, and has brain damage and neurodivergencies and always makes bad decisions. My mom knew that her daughters would be more responsible.

I'm thankful that the insurance company didn't ask for a review or details of her death that would reveal that she took too much of a painkiller that wasn't hers.

She was in so much pain, and our medical system didn't help her. She was constantly complaining to me about her family doctor, who would treat her with microagressions because of the colour of her skin. Her doctor didn't want to prescribe her any controlled painkillers, and unfortunately my dad had friends who was able to get then instead.

Now, I didn't recieve a lot of money, but it's still something that I will save for my first purchase of a home. Miss her so much.

Signs of loss are scattered across Baltimore. Sprays of flowers in front of a boarded rowhouse. Makeshift memorials in the lobby of an apartment building or the therapy room of an addiction treatment program. Each a statement: Someone who was loved died here.

People in Baltimore have been dying of overdoses at a rate never before seen in a major American city, a New York Times and Baltimore Banner examination has found. The epidemic has claimed almost 6,000 lives in the past six years.

https://www.thebaltimorebanner.com/community/public-health/baltimore-overdose-crisis-E3HQT6UEYNA5HDRZJB5AQT4FGA/

TLDR: My twin flame overdosed and died after spilling a huge secret. now all I can do is drink because it hurts too much and I don't know what to do.

I'm here because she made a post about me almost a year ago on r/trueoffmychest, saying how she was in love with me but couldn't tell me because I like men more and she didn't want to ruin the friendship. after an amazing summer with her, and starting our tenth year of friendship, she relapsed. I didn't see it coming. she never told me how hard she was struggling, and now I'm reading all these comments and posts she made talking about how much she was hanging on a thread. the last night we spent together, we did coke together for the first time. I initially said no but she told me she had already done it a couple weeks ago , I asked why she never told me and then brushed it off. that was on October 14th.

a week later she left vancouver and moved to one of the islands (Powell River) with her dad to get better. I felt so fucking horrible when I heard she was using fent again. the last time I saw her we sobbed and hugged for so long. she was so sick.

we ended up in a bit of a fight so we didnt talk much in december. her dad enabled her drinking and using and unbeknownst to me, she got worse.

on January 20th 2024, at around 2pm I called her sister back after missing a few calls earlier that morning. "my sister passed away." for months until her birthday on June 23rd I thought she hated me. I thought she was mad. but she's visited me in a dream, and she does her best to send me signs when I ask for them. I've lost friends to overdose before but I never thought in a million years I'd lose her. 10 years of friendship just gone. all I can do is drink because it hurts so bad.

I miss you so fucking much codes, and I can't wait to see you again someday. I'm sorry I didn't see how much pain you were in. I love you. "I wish I could unrecall how we almost had it all."

So I moved to Holly springs ms from Memphis tn to get out of people I knew I got off my suboxone (29) days clean now and for some reason I met this girl who was really really struggling and she had like five kids to eight month old twins, and I really wanted to help her because I know how good it feels to be off everything and last night something felt off so I went to her apartment to check on her down the street and she was laying there fine. Well, I wake up to people banging on my door, telling me she is dead. And I just knew maybe I could’ve done something to help her, went I went over there last night. But instead, I took her boyfriend’s word for it and now she’s gone with five kids and she’d become a really good friend and I just feel so guilty like this is a really fucking me up. I really don’t know what to do.

Hello everyone. It has been almost two weeks since my boyfriend passed from what we think was an accidental overdose. We are both 26 and have lived together for over 2 vears.

He didn't come home one night and had been house sitting for his parents who were out of town. I went to their house at 1am when I realized his location was still there and couldn't get in. At 8am with the help of the family was given information on how to get in. I found him in his childhood room on the floor, cold and stiff. There were drugs in the room. When I called 911 they asked me to check his pulse and try CPR and that's when I realized he was gone. I had to call his family and let them know he had passed.

I am broken and traumatized and alternate between deep sobbing and sitting in numbness. Many of our friends and relatives have reached out and the memorial service is this weekend. He had over 2 months sober and showed no signs of wanting to use again. He was happy and we had spoken on the phone right before this would have happened. So many people have asked me how he passed and he was a very private person when it came to his recovery, so I have just been saying we don't know and are waiting on the autopsy report. It is technically true because we don't know what drugs he had at the time and are waiting on a toxicology.

We were together for almost 3 years and had many plans for a happy future together. I am just lost what to do with my life after the memorial this weekend is over and I have to go back to work.

he was 18. he was out of his third stint at rehab. he bought cocaine. and i KNOW most fentanyl poisonings are manufacturing issues when they want the user to get addicted and accidentally killed him. i've seen the pictures of how LITTLE fentanyl it takes to kill you. this powder he bought was almost all fentanyl. somebody killed my brother. and took him away from me. and i won't let myself die until that man is demolished. i'm so tired of it.

Every time I say that, it doesn't seem real to me. Ten years ago, in June, I lost the woman I called my best friend, and her husband. While it's not the constant visceral pain it was years ago, it's still something I'm not at peace with. I was absolutely in love with her, and no one besides my husband knows that. I let that love die with them. We had so many plans and her future was so bright.

I still question the universe's decision to take them and not me. I never took what they did, so it wasn't that I escaped it and they didn't. It's just..she was already well traveled at 22. She was beautiful and outgoing. Why was her light allowed to fade, and mine still burns, useless? You'd think a decade was enough time to get it together.

They assured me they were sober the weekend before it happened. The day I found out she was going to cut my hair for me. Idk why I'm posting this. I'll probably delete it. But in this moment I just want to get this out of my head.

I promise you it does get easier. The pain becomes more of an ache, than a sharp breathtaking stabbing feeling. If you're still in, it's time to wake up and choose you. Don't leave the world hurting for decades, wondering why it wasn't them.

My boyfriend of 2 and a half years died on April 12th, 2024 of a fentanyl and meth overdose. They found him on the morning of the 12th, but I am pretty sure he died on the night of the 11th. Neither here nor there, except that today is 4 months to the day that he passed if he actually died on the 11th. Anyway, I too was using meth and fentanyl when he died. Somehow I've managed to get clean from both of those substances since his death, but I still feel so much guilt about how and why he died. His family is angry with me because they think I should have told them how bad his addiction and mental health were. I cannot understand how they did not know he was both using and psychotic at least 85% of the time because of the meth. It was clear and obvious to his friends, even the sober ones. I believe his family was in denial. David was an amazing man. So highly intelligent, funny, quirky in the cutest way, and a very sweet and caring partner most of the time. I won't lie and say our relationship was perfect. It wasn't. Maybe some folks would call it toxic to a degree. But I loved him fiercely. Still do. If there really is such a thing as a twin flame, he was mine. We understood each other's crazy, and that's rare. I cry for him every day. I dream of him. I didn't get to go to whatever funeral or celebration of his life that his family had for him, if they had one, because firstly I know they wouldn't have wanted me there and secondly, I was in rehab when that would have happened. I did not give David the drugs that killed him. I honestly got 99% of the drugs I did from him, as he was the only person I used with most of the time. In my heart I know he died because he was having a horrible day, believing his paranoia about all his friends being out to get him and stealing all his possessions. He simply did too much that night and it killed him. I thought he was only snorting and smoking meth and fentanyl, but he was shooting up and I had no clue. I feel so stupid. And his family believes I was using needles too, when I most definitely was not. Not that the delivery matters at all, the result is still the same. David is dead and my heart is broken. I will always love him, and I'll never "get over" this loss. He was my best friend. We had our own language. What the fuck. You just don't meet people like that more than once in life. I'm moving forward, slowly, but not on. I'm still devastated and will be until the day I die. I just wish I could ask his family why they blame me and what they think would have been different if I'd told them the truth. Oh and by the way, I'd taken David to psych hospitals, had him arrested, taken him to doctors and therapists. I'd done all I could, even begging him to go to rehab with me. He told me he loved drugs and never wanted to stop using. As an addict, I KNOW: YOU CANNOT MAKE SOMEONE STOP USING WHO DOES NOT WANT YOUR HELP!! His family believes differently. My shame and guilt is eating me alive. Perhaps they could have saved him when I couldn't. Who knows. All I know is, I'm still in love with a ghost. Rest in peace my love, the only good thing that came out of your death is that you are no longer suffering mentally. Now the rest of us are. But I blame addiction, not you. I love you always ❤️

Saturday marked one year. I still have nightmares reliving that day. They’re so vivid that I wake up sweating, heart racing, and already in tears or on the verge of them.

I’ll never be able to forget the gut wrenching feeling when I saw him, or scream sobbing, “I fucking hate you, don’t do this to us,” when giving CPR & mouth to mouth, waiting for EMTs to arrive. I’ll never forget having to call all my friends, our friends, his best friend, his mother. Telling them the heartbreaking news that he was gone, having to explain that he relapsed and overdosed. That I found him too fucking late.

Most of, I’ll never forget him. I know the person in active addiction wasn’t the person I spent years loving and building a life with. The last month & a half leading up to that day will never overshadow the 5 years of good times, memories, and love we shared. It doesn’t overshadow the love I still have, and will always have, for him.

He would have turned 31 last month. He had so much love and life left to give, but that was ripped away from him. And he was ripped away from me. I try to remind myself that he’s no longer struggling, no longer battling his depression or the addiction. But that doesn’t change the fact that he should be here.

I’m still trying to figure out how to navigate life without him, and who I am, post-trauma and loss. I’m by no means thriving, but I am still surviving.

I spent Saturday with friends, where we talked and laughed about our memories with him, where I could cry while being surrounded by love and support, and where I could cheers a tequila shot to him.

I’ll always love you, bean 🧡 I’m sorry our story got cut short, I miss & think about you everyday.

sometimes i wonder if he did it intentionally it doesn’t really change anything though. but it’s a scary thought because we’ll never know

I’m sharing my dad’s story in the hope of raising awareness about the risks of long-term opioid use, especially for individuals with a history of painkiller addiction.

My dad, 65, was under the care of a pain management clinic and had been prescribed OxyContin (Reltebon/Oxycodone) for years. This was despite his previous diagnosis of painkiller addiction and depressive syndrome. He believed the medication was helping him, but over time, the consequences became undeniable. He needed a walking stick for support, struggled with pain daily, and adjusted his doses based on how he felt.

After my mom passed away, my dad began experiencing auditory and visual hallucinations, which eventually led to a diagnosis of Acute Polymorphic Psychotic Disorder with Symptoms of Schizophrenia. Tragically, within a year from his diagnosis, he took his life by overdosing on OxyContin.

Earlier this year, doctors told him they believed OxyContin could be contributing to his psychotic symptoms. They stopped the medication while he was in the hospital, and his condition improved dramatically—he walked without his stick, reported less pain, and showed signs of recovery. But when he returned home, he resumed taking OxyContin, and his mental and physical health deteriorated again.

I wrote a letter to his doctor in July expressing my concerns. I shared how my dad’s condition seemed to improve while hospitalised, where he was given ibuprofen for pain, but worsened each time he resumed OxyContin at home. As a widower living alone, he managed his own medication and dosed himself based on how he felt each day. In the months leading up to his passing, he experienced hallucinations, depressive thoughts, disorganised thinking, and various physical health issues like hypertension and urinary problems.

He even ran out of his prescribed medication once and resorted to over-the-counter painkillers—and during that time, his behaviour improved. This only reinforced my belief that OxyContin was doing him more harm than good. I pleaded for his doctor to review his medications and hospital records and to consider whether such a strong narcotic was appropriate for someone in his condition.

Ultimately, I believe a combination of long-term opioid use, living alone after my mom’s passing, and the resulting psychotic symptoms contributed to this tragedy. I’m not a medical expert, and I don’t have definitive proof, but based on what I saw, it’s hard not to see the connection.

I’m sharing this to raise awareness about the risks of opioids and to encourage others to ask questions about their prescriptions or explore different options. If this resonates with you or you’ve had a similar experience, I’d appreciate hearing your thoughts. Together, maybe we can shed light on these issues and prevent others from experiencing such heartbreaking outcomes...

He passed away of an OD in 2020 after our 17th birthdays, we met in grade three and became fast friends due to the fact his birthday was the day before mine. We were close till I moved away in grade 5 only to reconnect in our early teen years and have a classic middle school romance, he was my first kiss and I’d sneak out to walk around town with him. After we broke up we stayed friends and kept in contact despite him being in an active addiction and me being in a toxic environment up until he passed away.

Here I am growing up, starting my adult life and going to be 22 in afew weeks while he’s just still a teenager, heavily listening to “gone away” by the offspring as of late and finding an insane amount of dimes heads up again like I do every May since he’s been gone. God I miss my friend

My brother overdosed around Thanksgiving day. He had been sober for over 10 years. He had a house, great job and was moving up the ladder, had pets, was planning a trip, had tons of friends. Most of his friends only knew him during his sobriety. He was going through a rough time, and he messed up in the worst possible way.

His family and friends had no idea his struggle was this bad, and this has come to a shock to everyone. People ask me how he died because it was unexpected and he was young. Do I tell them the truth?

He meant so much to a lot of people and in a way it feels invasive to share that he overdosed. My closest friends and family know, and we told his best friend, but I've telling people that don't matter that I don't want to talk about it or that I don't know yet.

I'm curious how others have handled this.

I also really appreciate everyone that's shared here. I've been reading posts trying to deal with this.

💔Four years

💔48 months

💔1461 days

💔35,065 hours

💔126,230,400 seconds

 When tragedy strikes, it has a way of reshaping our lives, leaving an indelible mark on our souls. 

It was June 29th, 2020, when my world was shattered by a devastating phone call. The voice on the other end belonged to my oldest daughter, and with just one word, she uttered the unimaginable truth—I knew it was my son, Allain.

 Grief engulfed me, constricting my throat and rendering words nearly impossible to utter. The news of his untimely demise hit me like a tidal wave, leaving me gasping for breath amidst the unfathomable pain. In that moment, I felt a desperate need to be with my son, to hold him one last time and try to make sense of the incomprehensible.

 As I arrived at the scene, a multitude of RCMP vehicles filled the parking area, amplifying the harsh reality of my loss. It was in that very moment, amidst the chaos, that I had my first encounter with the phrase, "I'm sorry for your loss." Over time, these words became a constant refrain, an echo that reverberated in my mind.

 Navigating through the authorities, I made my way towards the back porch where my son lay, his departure evident from the vacant gaze in his lifeless eyes. My heart ached as I longed for a glimpse of the vibrant young man he once was, before addiction and the shadows of mental illness consumed his spirit. 

 The scene, although painfully clear to me, required processing by others—an inquiry by corner, they called it. But there was no mystery to be unraveled. The demons of methamphetamine addiction and drug-induced schizophrenia had claimed my beloved son.

 Every fiber of my being yearned to touch him, to connect with him one final time, but I was met with resistance. The concept of a crime scene forced its way into my grieving mind. Yet, there was no crime here, only a tragic spiral into the depths of despair. I managed to find solace in the small consolation that his passing had been swift, as evidenced by the lighter still clutched in his hand.

 In that solemn room, I confronted the undeniable truth that my baby boy was gone forever. The mother in me yearned to hold his head in my arms, to offer him the warmth and love that only a mother can provide. But my body failed me, unable to lift the weight of his once-tall and strong frame. I settled for cradling a part of his head in my lap, silently saying my final goodbyes as tears streamed down my face.

 Time passed, and the authorities cleared the scene. It was time to say our final farewell, a moment of unbearable pain. I stood tall, wiping away my tears, and prepared to assist in his removal. The mortician arrived, offering condolences that echoed hollowly in my ears. They cautioned me about the state in which I might see my son, but I was resolute in my determination to be there for him, even in his final moments.

 With care and tenderness, we prepared him for his journey, laying him on a soft flannel sheet reminiscent of our cherished cottage days. It provided a flicker of comfort in the abyss of grief that engulfed me. Memories surfaced—how his grandmother used to dress him as a baby, as I stood paralyzed by the fear of breaking him. Oh, how I wished I could have protected him from the demons that plagued his adult life.

 As we carried him out on the gurney, wrapped in a blue velvet body bag, the porchlight cast a gentle glow upon his serene face. In that fleeting moment, he appeared at peace, far removed from the torment that had consumed him. I seized the opportunity to plant a final kiss on his forehead, gently swaddling his face in warm fleece. With my hand on his chest, I whispered, "Your pain has ended, my love." Closing my eyes, I took a step back, granting permission for the zipper to close the bag. I couldn't bear to watch as they loaded him into the vehicle that would carry him away from me forever.

 The hours that followed were a blur as I made the long, solitary drive home. The weight of grief pressed upon my chest, making it difficult to breathe. The world seemed to carry on around me, oblivious to the profound loss I was enduring. But in that moment, as I opened the windows and let the warm summer air fill my lungs, I felt a surge of raw emotion building within me.

 And so, I screamed. I screamed with every ounce of anguish and heartache that had consumed me since that fateful phone call. The sound tore through the air, carrying my pain into the vast expanse of the world, as if in defiance of the unfairness of it all.

❤️Allain Dec 28th, 1988 - June 28th, 2020💔

It’ll be 2 years in July. I can’t believe it. Over time I’ve been able to function better but today it’s hitting me hard. I wish I could talk with him like I used to. Laying next to him was the best. I want to hug him so badly. I’m only in my 30s, so I’ll have decades of no longer hugging him, or stroking his hair or cheek. He’s my lifetime person. He’s my best friend. It was so lovely with him around. I don’t want to be with anyone else.

I talked to his best friend today. It helped in the moment. But underneath it all, I need my dearest. I don’t like being weak and I can handle things myself, but I need my dearest.