my best friend died a week ago from a herion and oxy overdose and im so upset and mad at him for leaving me here all alone, he was my only person, i have bpd and just cannot process or handle any of this, i dont want too. ive know him for about 2 years but me and him got really close these past few months and before that i was suicidal but then he made me feel better, he was there for me, he was my favourite person i loved him. but now hes gone. i wish i could have been there the same way he was for me:/ all of those suicidal thoughts, feeling of emptiness and being alone have just came rushing back, and now that i know he can do it, it makes me feel like i can too. :/

my best friend died from an overdose 6 days ago and i only found out through his best friend yesterday. i cant help but feel guilty for not being there for him, earlier that week he told me he wanted to get herion but got oxys instead and was using them a few times a week for the past few weeks and literally passed out on the phone to me twice, he felt so bad and told me he was gonna stop, then a few nights after that he randomly told me he was doing herion and how he wanted to call, i told him in an hour or so and i never heard from him again. called his number nothing his phone was turned off. he wasnt found till the next afternoon. he relapsed just to die, he was all alone. and i knew that night when he didnt pick up something was wrong and i have just been waiting for a reply all week just to get the news days later that hes dead. it just all hurts so much and i just wish i could go back and would have just answered my damn phone i wish i saw the signs. i miss him so much he only just turned 19 2 weeks ago im gonna miss him so much

I confronted her the night before she died. I didn't recognize what was happening and was angry. I should have known and begged her to take narcan. I woke up early and she wasn't in bed but I just went back to sleep. I found her 2 hours later. Two opportunities to save her wasted by my anger and ignorance. I'm sorry for posting this today but I'm struggling.

i’m 13 and my dad uses drugs, is it normal for me to feel like he’s going to overdose again for good? he’s never been around but i still see him occasionally, but i don’t feel the same connection i once had. i’ve watched him overdose before when i was really little and i think about it a lot but he was okay, i just always feel nervous in case that happens again. he’s been using for a super long time and i know he won’t quit which sucks. if someone could give me help on how to not feel nervous around him let me know i love him a lot

Me and my friend have been besties since we were 10.. on sunday she texted me that she took 17 paracetamol tablets to try and commit. Now thinking back on it i should of told her mum right there. But no and now i wish i did because she has been throwing up and admitted to hospital and been put on a IV drip.. I really think that if i was a better friend i should of told her mum that she did but me and my friends waited a whole day to say.. i just really think if i could of told her mum sooner she would still be ok. We are only just teenagers i really dont want to loose her… especially when my birthday is so soon.

How can a person die and still be standing? When I grabbed his body he was in rigor mortis, how did his knees not buckle when he died? How did he stay standing? How do I get the feeling of his ribs breaking out of my head? How do I get the memory of begging him to wake up while I tried to push his head back to open his airway out of my head? How do I handle the anger?

I lost my boyfriend 3 days ago to a heroin overdose. He had been clean for 9 months. He died in our bed. I found him in the morning, cold and covered in vomit. I called 911 and tried CPR but it was too late. I am struggling. We both worked in recovery. I’m a chemical dependency counselor. And I don’t understand why I didn’t see this coming or find a way to prevent this awful tragedy.

If you’re open to talking I’d greatly appreciate it. If not, I totally understand and I hope you’ve been able to find moments of peace. Sending love. -Samantha

This likely will be a bunch of rambling so I am sure it will be long. I guess maybe I just need somewhere to put this out there, where my friends and family won’t see it and reach out. I appreciate their support but sometimes it’s more frustrating than helpful.

125 days since my boyfriend passed from an overdose, losing the battle he had fought off and on for 15 years. I knew from day one that he struggled with addiction and that it was always possible he would relapse. Maybe 8-12 months into our relationship, he did for the first time...and it resulted in an overdose. I didn't know he had picked up the night before, but we were lucky that I hadn't left for work yet, that I heard him throw up in his sleep. He had aspiration pneumonia, but he was alive. While we may have used other things recreationally after that, he stayed away from opiates again.

But.... we weren't lucky this time. June 21, 2024 he overdosed again. His depression and mental health had gotten so bad, he turned to the one thing he knew would numb everything... I don’t fault him for that. The narcan, the CPR, the mouth to mouth, the EMTS...none of it mattered. I was too late. I knew it when I found him, I felt that shit in my gut. I had hoped maybe that feeling was wrong, but it wasn't. It was too late. I knew he was using again... He wouldn't admit it to me, no matter how I tried to bring it up. But, it was obvious and I am not as naïve as he would have liked to think. I am no saint and have used other things myself, and I have seen him on an abundance of things. I know his mannerisms on coke, on ketamine, xanax, molly, meth... everything. So yeah, it was obvious.

But I get frustrated sometimes because I think some of his friends want to know if a toxicology report was done. To know if it was fentanyl or heroin, or what it was he took. Why? So they can say he picked up something cut or didn't know what he was getting? Maybe they want that to blame, so it's easier for them to accept. Honestly though, it doesn't matter. He wasn't an idiot, and whether it was fetty or it was heroin, I know he knew what he was getting.
His friends didn't have to see it or go through it with him. Hell, some didn't even know he was a heroin addict as a teenager. I was the one around him every single day. I was the one with him when he went through withdrawals when we first moved (while still never admitting he was using). I saw him getting worse, I was the one he stole pain meds from two days after my surgery. I was the one being gaslit and manipulated, being yelled at and having everything that could hurt me thrown in my face. I pushed for him to get help, while trying not to push him too far in the opposite direction. So sure, maybe it would give them closure or make them feel better if they could blame it on a cut batch of something. At the end of the day though, it doesn't fucking matter. What they want to be true, isn't. He knew what he was getting, and that's the reality of it. He was an addict and he was struggling.

You never can truly understand until you go through it yourself...how hard loving an addict is. The last month and half of our relationship was obviously not great (hell, it was barely good), but I never resented him, I never loved him any less. I knew that the person he was in active addiction was not the person I spent the last (near) 5 years with. I always knew relapsing was a possibility, and I still chose him. I still would.

It was the very night before he died, that he finally admitted to being scared and worrying that people wouldn't like who he was clean. He finally admitted to being so tired and goddamn frustrated at still having to battle it after 15 years. It was the very night before, that we had discussed and agreed to start NA meetings in a few days. But we never got that far and it still fucking hurts. It hurts just as much today as it did when I found him on the bathroom floor at 4:00am.

I'm sorry, bean....you deserved so much better than your end. I'm so fucking sorry. I miss you and I love you more than I could ever express.

Despite it all, after many years, I’ve made a nice life for myself but everything is tinged with sadness without you.

Hello, I am so sorry for that question, I hope it will not offend anyone.

I lost my lover 1 month ago because of a tramadol overdose incident, and he was addicted to xanax since 2023 (he took xanax and lean when he was younger but not at the point of an addiction I think). I knew him since 2020 and we've always been secretly attracted to each other but it only came to fruition this year.

I am struggling so much with that grief, and I have a lot of paranoïd questions in my head. I started to question his love for me, I saw people saying that addiction changes the way you are and the way your brain works. I wonder if you can fall in love while addicted, or if you only have an illusion of love ?

I'm afraid he thought he loved me because of the drugs, but I don't want to question all his feelings just because of an addiction, he was much more than that. Besides, he was doing better and was consuming much less than before.

But now that he's no longer here to tell me that he loves me, I have this intrusive thought and I blame myself for it. I love him so much and I miss him, he deserved the world and I will forever be proud of my baby

Hi everyone,

I lost a good a friend (age 36) in 2022 to substance abuse. I'm nyc based and looking for books or groups that talk about grief with the overdose component too. I feel like I need to be mirrored more. I talk about my friend's death with my aunts and they sort of condense the topic and move on to another one etc.

Mediums have been helpful for me.

Thank you.

Me & my boyfriend were using fentanyl together. We were both addicts but I was way more addicted like needed it 24/7 & he wanted us to stop & he’s the one that overdosed. It was my idea to pick up that night. My therapist says it’s not my fault because he could have said no & could have chosen not to use. But it was my idea & I asked him to drive us to pick up. & I woke up the next morning & he was on our kitchen floor. That was the last time I ever used opiates. I still feel like it should have been me. My gut reaction to finding him dead was “it should have been me & this is my fault.” I still feel so bad. I shouldn’t be the one living & sober & being able to work & go on about life. He should be the one alive right now & free from opiate addiction.

Today I got the news my mom had passed, she had 3 daughters that includes myself. We’ve all grown up in foster care so I personally felt not the closes with her but I still loved her unconditionally.

I’m totally numb I don’t know what to feel, if anything I feel everything all at once if I worded it better. It’s like 24 years of my life I yearned for a mother who chose us first now she’s gone. She always wanted to meet my daughter and now they’ll be meeting while she lays in her casket, and it breaks my heart. I think of the moments I could’ve talked to her and just put my hurt aside to see she was hurting just as much. I wish I was more compassionate and not angry but I can’t change the past, I can only learn from this and hope I can help someone elses suffering.

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.

still believe its my fault. i feel like his mom and family and bandmates hate me. he spoke about investing money into a coke drug company before his death he made me swear not to tell his family. because he called it off. i was such an idiot. then a few weeks later he said he was buying weed for fun but it was funny to me cause he doesn't smoke weed. he said he was sick when i wanted to see him, but had a meeting with weed growing operations people. if there was anyone that could have stopped this it was me. and i was too STUPID to see it. its really hard not to hate yourself. i wish i wasn't so self absorbed. i wish i didn't start pushing him away. he would still be with me and with all his loved ones. i didn't think he'd die. i really just thought he'd relapse and have episodes. i never in a single moment imagined his death.

Had 2 dreams with him in it this past week. Neither particularly wonderful… I’m still working through issues with him in my dreams. Arguing about his actions… I told him don’t you know hanging with those people will kill you? He looked at me, like he knew, but he couldn’t do anything… his cheating… his lying… the drugs. I hate it. I miss him. Our son misses him. I can’t believe it came to this.

My ex boyfriend passed away at just 25 from a bad pill a year and a half ago. I hate calling him that because he was very much the love of my life.

We had broken up mainly due to his inability to maintain sobriety and all lying, manipulation, and instability I had to deal as a result of that. He was very high functioning and not an every day user, but depended a lot on pills to help him during high stress periods, like studying for exams and job interviews. During these times I didn’t recognize him. Most people were clueless about his issues because he appeared so “normal” to everyone else, but those who knew him well (myself and his family) are the ones who tried hard to keep him under control.

At the time of his passing we were 9 months no contact. He had gotten into his dream prestigious business school on a full scholarship and had a final round interview for a big firm the day after the night he passed from a bad pill he probably took to help him sleep.

His death broke me like no other and continues to break me to this day. From being together for years, to trying to make it work while broken up and seeing so much improvement, to see him achieve the start of his dreams, it all just went away. The 9 months we weren’t talking is nothing compared to the lifetime I have without him, but everything if I knew that was the only time I’d have left with him.

Two years before his death he had a seizure after the withdrawal from one of the weeks he was with me, but his roommate luckily found him and he was taken to the hospital. He downplayed what it was because he didn’t want to worry me. He always downplayed or hid information from me to protect me. His mom said at the hospital he cried because he truly realized how that could have taken his life. He always told me he had it under control. He would so much improvement for months and then it would be back to the same cycle. It really damaged my trust. I stuck with him through so many episodes but one day after he embarrassed me on my birthday I couldn’t take it. I still loved him, constantly wished for his well being and balance, and checked in on him. I had hope for us but only if he was able to work on him 100%. I saw improvement but was never fully convinced and didn’t want to enable him. Ultimately after over a year of trying to work on it, he was tired of my reluctance to take him back and said he doesn’t wish to contact me and said he found someone who treats him like a human being and not a convict (he didn’t find anyone - maybe he said that to make it easier for me to let go). Nonetheless, we both had hope it would work out. Deep down I just wanted the best for him. I hoped that would lead back to me, but my priority was his health over our relationship. His messages to his friends before he passed talk about how much he loved me and how hopeful he was for our future.

I wish there is more I could’ve done. I know I stuck with him through so much and tried every approach - hands off, hands on, tough love, comfort, etc. I still wish I could’ve done more. He is not what killed him. He was so pure, full of life, happy, funny, energetic, caring, and kind. He was a beam of light. He left people better than he met them. He pulled me through the darkest time in my life and believed in me when I never did in myself. He was my safe space. He was my home.

I wish I fought harder. I wish I broke no contact. I wish I wasn’t so naive in thinking time would be guaranteed. I wish I continued to provide support and check in than just walking away or believing him when he said he stopped using. I wish I wasn’t so selfish in choosing myself. In those 9 months, most people were irrelevant and accomplishments I earned feel insignificant. I would’ve been better off with him. I was mourning him in no contact and thought that was grief - little did I know I’d lose him forever.

We talked about something happening like this too - so much. I would say being so reckless is digging yourself into an early grave. I would say you’d be dead and wouldn’t feel this pain but we would suffer. I would tell him each time after a famous overdose that he needs to be careful because that could be him. I never thought my words would become a reality and I regret saying them.

I miss him, I miss us, I miss my life before this pain. A young death like his, the death of someone meant to be by my side, is so hard because I go through life doing what they can’t. He didn’t deserve it.

The chance you can hear me

There is a selfish part of me that wished you stayed. Not all of it. Most of it is pure love. But there is just a part that wanted you for myself, apart from the pain you were in. I'm sorry for that. It was hard to understand.

I love you forever

Yours eternally

N

My best friend passed, gosh 10 years ago now. We had both been addicts,used together, etc. But I had just gotten clean, and I got a call maybe a month out of rehab thar she died. I have ptsd from that night, still get panic attacks if I sit and think about everything.

I was at the big e on Saturday morning, walking around when my phone alerted. It's was her birthday. It literally made me sad the rest of my day. She's missed so much, missed OUT on so much.

Just needed to vent. Love and miss you my NitaPita.🩷

I have shed a tear or more for my brother damn near once a day for 108 days. I am in no way stoic but I have never felt pain this everlasting. But we will all survive until it's time to meet them again. That's my only relief. Sadly, it will be years and years until then. I am in no way old yet and I have so many things to finish before I go join him. He never found his truest self. Always worried about money or status or material possession and chasing it eventually killed him. Wanted a rock and roll lifestyle on a blue collar budget.

How many of us witnessed their beloved avoid responsibility and chase desires and demons without any respect for their futures? Was that your experience with them?

First off, i wanna give some prelude of some sorts to my mom’s life through my eyes. My mom and dad were 6 years apart snd she met my dad when she was 14 -_- They got married at 18 and had me the same year. He is a very abusive person. He has been diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder and has even been arrested and charged with felony assaults on women and other people. He ruined my mom’s life, even when she broke away from him. My mom raised me pretty much solo until i was 13. She was very abusive to me verbally mentally and physically. I witnessed many overdoses and withdrawals and was the main caretaker for her, along with my 80 year old great grandmother. I had two younger brothers, which whom I raised because she was a really bad addict. One night, cps came by and she was in the middle of overdosing… so 2 weeks later We get taken from her by CPS, and never got to live with her again. I didn’t even really get to be around her again until i was 18. She even attended my wedding sober, which is a big deal if you know how addicts are.. She was doing well for a few years, she still popped pills every now and then and has always smoked weed heavily, but I didn’t care as long as she was able to take care of herself and the other two children she had given birth to in those years. She got one of those children taken from her, just how the first 3 of us did. It broke her. All she had left was my youngest sister (who was at the time only 2yrs old). We fought a lot after my wedding because, ontop of being an addict who relied on me to be her sole source of help and guidance, she took her jealousy, anger, resentment, and paranoia out on me. I don’t know why or what happened exactly but she stopped talking to me and moved back to her hometown in west Texas with my grandmother without telling me. Maybe it was the arguing… idk. She stayed there a few years and my grandmother let her live with her, helped her get an apartment right next door to her. But my mom just got worse… she was convinced the father of her two youngest children was out to kill her. That his family was going to murder her and take my youngest sister. So she packed up and moved to Oregon with my 2 year old sister. They basically back packed with strangers and on buses until they got there. Texas to Oregon… it took her 2 months. My poor baby sister… when she finally arrived in Oregon in 2019 she finally contacted me after 2 years, and explained to me that she was camping and backpacking and that Iva wasn’t with her anymore because her father came up there and took her. So she was “laying low” and enjoying the camping life… she was so confident and so full of joy. But then she went onto explain that she remembered some repressed memories during this trip and experience. She believes a Masonic lodge in her hometown got her pregnant at the age of 10 and gave her a c-section in the church and took her baby boy. She was fixated on one of her mother’s exes younger children and said it was her child. That is literally the last thing I hear from my mother… the last conversation, the last words I heard from her. She refused to contact any of her family for the next 5 years. From 2019-2024 she was homeless in Eugene, Oregon and I have no idea what her life was like. I tried so many times to find her, aside from flying there and scouring the area I assumed she was in. I found mugshots of her from time to time and that was the only way I knew she was alive… the last mugshot I found of her doesn’t even look like my mama. It’s a stranger whose soul was convinced they were free but was so so trapped. I get news one day that my mother was found dead near a homeless encampment on the side of the road, 50ft from it to be exact, with foil in her hands, dead from a fentanyl overdose… with nothing but the clothes on her back, a single penny, and a clipboard with papers. 6:03 in the morning is when they found her but assumed she had been dead for at least 8 hours…. All these years she went no contact, I just let her go. I didn’t think about the conditions she could possibly be living in, I convinced myself that she was couch surfing, or hotel hopping or staying in a shelter or one of those safe places to use drugs up there or maybe even in jail where she has a roof and warm food and rehabilitation from drugs… but she wasn’t. She was alone, cold/hot, hungry, thirsty, dirty, homeless, strung out on anything she could get ahold of, and so broke all she had on her was a penny. I don’t know why I let my mom do this to herself. I feel so selfish even mourning her because I didn’t hurt for her like this when she was alive. She deserved so much better, even if she was dangerous and abusive, I should have done more right?! :( It hurts so bad to know how alone my mom must have been… how confused she was at times… was she even my mom anymore? Was she herself anymore? why didn’t she reach out to me? Why didn’t she SAY “I’m homeless I need help” “please help me baby, I’m not ok”? Why didnt she say SOMETHING?! I’m so confused and I don’t know how to feel. This hurts beyond words and it is so hard to mourn someone you lost a long time ago… it is so hard to mourn someone who you didn’t even know anymore. And it sucks because I did know her, I had such a strong bond with her, she was my mother, but yet I didn’t know who she was in those final years. Not at all. I don’t know what to do or how to feel. I hate that there are so many more homeless addicts like this up there, they are all someone’s mama, someone’s dad, someone’s son or daughter, someone’s favorite aunt or uncle, someone’s first love, someone’s wife or husband…. I’m so lost

It’s been 6.5 weeks. I got the info about cause of death Friday… official cause of death drug intoxication, with top 2 being cocaine and fentanyl. I can’t hope it was a mistake anymore… or that there’s another explanation. Most of his big lies have come out now I think. The drug use I have proof going back at least until march, with suspected use since the previous fall, 2 side girlfriends, 10+ other women/exes/hookups he was flirting or sleeping with since January. I stopped looking at new years. I have some accounts to close, try to figure out how to take care of his loans with his “estate” or I guess give back his unpaid purchases….

I’m hurt, I’m tired, I feel like I don’t know what the last 5 years meant. If the last few he was calling other women as well as myself his soul mate. If he was sending them the same songs, telling them the same sweet things. All I have, is that he married me, had a kid with me, and spent the majority of the week and his time home with me and our son. I can’t trust what he said. That he meant any of it. And that hurts.

He was supposed to be my life partner. I wasn’t supposed to ever be alone again. He told me I’d never have to date again… and I would never ever receive the call I received, saying he died of a suspected OD.

I’ve read his journal, talked to his psychologist that diagnosed him with sex addiction, NPD and bipolar disorder, spoken with some of the other women and heard their stories… talked to his exes and his father about his previous go round with drugs cheating and lying. I think I understand his demons… his impulses… his inability to be the man he promised, and the man I know he could be. His inability to keep his vows, to keep his promise to be honest. I think I understand why, even after I helped him achieve all his 5 year goals and bought his self described dream home, and everything he wanted all his life, he still wasn’t fully satisfied and had to look elsewhere and to drugs to try to be happy.

What more is there to understand? Even so… I don’t feel healed. I don’t feel better. I just feel broken. I feel like all I want is the husband I knew without the lies back. The husband he pretended to be… to me, his family and the majority of his friends. I don’t know how to “heal” from this. I don’t know how to “move forward”. How do you let go of that? How do you possibly forget about all the unanswered questions and the big why? Regardless of the diagnoses I want to know why he didn’t tell me. With EVERYTHING he and I had been through…. Why? I don’t know what I’m looking for here. I’m just in pain.

She was my girlfriend from June 2023 to May 2024. She died of a fentanyl overdose at the young age of 34 less than two weeks ago. I'm in shock, feeling anger, loss, regret and incredible pain for her.

I knew she had a cocaine addiction when we were together, but I thought it was "under control". I had no idea about the fentanyl until I talked to a family friend at the funeral. She hid it from me extremely well. I think she was ashamed of her addiction or felt it would cause problems in our relationship. She was honest, but she wasn't open. She was addicted to cocaine for at least ten years, and fentanyl for two years.

I would give anything to have one more chance to talk to her before this happened. I would've forced her into rehab, gotten her a therapist, and a doctor. She had no professional support or social network. I regret not doing more, because maybe I could have saved her life.

I'm angry. I'm angry at her parents for neglecting her and causing her lifelong trauma. I'm angry at the ex-boyfriend she went back to who enabled her (she died in his bed after multiple seizures. They were doing cocaine and fentanyl). I'm angry that the people who were closest to her treated her like an object to be abused and not the beautiful soul who deserved love and protection. I'm not willing to forgive them, ever.

She had the most beautiful smile and projected so much joy outwardly, but I could see the pain behind her eyes. She never wanted to reveal much about her past, and I was honestly afraid to ask. She would isolate and self-medicate. I saw signs of it but had no idea what the extent of her addiction was-- the relentless grip it had on her.

She knew she was doing fentanyl, and an ambulance was called after her first seizure. She refused the ambulance ride, and hours later had a second seizure in her sleep that killed her. I will never understand why she refused the ambulance. Was her shame so deep that she couldn't admit she needed help, even during a life-threatening medical emergency? Did she just not care if she lived anymore? It's heart-breaking to imagine that her last moments were so deeply apathetic about her own life. COULD I have even helped, been allowed to help, if I had been there? Is my regret just a delusional fantasy? COULD she have been helped?

The tragedy of her life is that she could see the good and proper, clean life that I modeled for her. She wanted it and we would talk about it often. She wasn't satisfied with the state of her life, and we shared a dream of the kind of life she deserved. She had so many traits that would have made otherwise extremely successful: charismatic, beautiful, intelligent, and humble. She wasn't a piece of trash junkie. She was a beautiful soul who was the victim of a shit upbringing that she could never seem to overcome. And I can't help but think that I could have always done more to help her. If I had known it was life-or-death, I would've given absolutely everything to ensure she defeated her demons and lived the life she deserved.

I know tragedy is a part of life. I know fentanyl is everywhere and in practically every street drug now. But I'll never reconcile the unfairness of life, that good people are taken away from us because they were never given a chance. That shame and guilt prevent people from asking for help when they are in desperate need. And I can't stop ruminating over the even slim chance that if I had just FORCED her into rehab that she would still be alive, regardless of whether we were together or not.

I miss you, Lanea. I know you are a full-blown angel now, and I know your pain is finally gone. I'm sorry I let you down.

I just lost my best friend and I’m going mental

Today is my birthday. While I am so grateful for all the amazing people who showed me love this weekend, I can’t help but be pissed my boyfriend isn’t here today. I’m not even mad at him, just mad he’s not here. I feel like I got more attention than normal for my birthday this year because everyone knows I was planning to spend it on a vacation with him and didn’t get to do that. It’s sweet that everyone reached out or spent time with me and I’d obviously be more upset if no one acknowledged my birthday at all, but it still sucks. I worried briefly that I didn’t seem enthusiastic enough at times throughout the weekend and then remembered it’s been less than 5 months without him. The only thing I really want, I can’t have. The only person I want to see isn’t here. I’m officially older than he will ever get to be. I love my people and by tomorrow I’ll look back and be happy I didn’t stay home all weekend but this first one without him is rough. Just wanted to say this to people who might understand.

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

My brother overdosed on June 28th, and it’s been 8 weeks. I read that the standard time to get results back are 4-6 weeks, so I don’t understand what is taking so long.

Possible Trigger warning talk of drug use and unaliving thoughts. This is a comment I saw on another post that I thought was absolutely beautifully written. I asked the commenter if I may share it and they said yes. So here it is what I would like to call Darkly Lit Night Sky enjoy .

Coming from one true heroin/fentanyl addict, I can honestly tell you.. it was peaceful.. the last 3 times I’ve OD, It was exactly like what I had searched for my whole life.. I just got to the point I wanted to be at, and eventually just went to sleep, had it not of been for emergency services using Narcan to bring me back, I would’ve been so sweetly relieved and serene as I had always searched for.. it was a beautiful dark world, I didn’t even know I was passed/passing until I came to with EMS reviving me.. The second time, he said he had already given me the “legal maximum dose” but he hit me one more time with one more dose of narcan, and I came to, but all I recall was the most beautiful darkly lit night sky, and it was all I ever wanted in life.. it Was just to go and be gone. Permanently.. but coming to, from it, I know I was angry and sad and frustrated and trying to figure out, WHY. Why couldn’t they just let me be? Why did they HAVE to bring me back? I went looking for my sister, who had just recently passed. And I was more angry and confused than ever when I woke up.. I had driven thru a gas station parking lot and apparently ran into a propane tank casing out front, and somehow still didn’t cause a mass explosion.. I was so angry and sad, but I just recall being unconscious as the most perfect and beautiful thing I had ever wanted.. just like a darkly lit night sky.. no pain, no suffering.. no nothing but sheer peace.. I know this may sound obscene and a bit insane, but it was what I was longing for.. I was very very angry for days to come, but over time.. I’m glad they got to me when they did. I know that I was suffering, and didn’t know an ounce of peace for my entire life.. I’m very blessed to still be here, raising my perfect beautiful babies. But at the time, it was the most peaceful time I had ever experienced. I hope this can bring you some peace, at least a spectacle of what you long to know… just know that he didn’t hurt, and passed as quietly and peacefully as one could.. All My love and positive vibes are with you 🖤🫶