Death & Drugs

Over the past couple of years, I've come to realize that my mood consistently takes a nosedive during this particular time of year. I assumed at first that it was just my PMDD doing its normal emotional gymnastics. It's quite intriguing how often I overlook the significance of checking the date.

7 years ago, around this time, I found out a friend of mine was in a medically induced coma. I can’t remember all the details, and I don’t want to give the wrong information, but he went in and never came out.

We were introduced through another mutual friend, and because she and I spent a lot of time together, he was often around. He was honestly one of the most respectful guys I’ve ever come across, and he had a heart of gold. It was like having another sibling around. I won’t say that we were best friends, but I will say that whenever I needed someone to come over and talk, he would never hesitate. We would spend hours sitting on the swings talking about anything from conspiracies to what upcoming raves we wanted to go to. He was always someone that I could speak to, and I knew he would never judge me. We made a promise to each other that we would both become addiction counselors because we had seen firsthand what drugs do to people. He confided in me about someone he knew who was battling demons and expressed how he wished his love could just save them.

Life was crazy for me during this time, and hearing that he was in the hospital hit me so hard. I remember going to the hospital and seeing him hooked up to all the monitors and tubes. Everything was just beeping and moving his chest up and down. He wasn’t there. I knew he was gone, and he wasn’t going to wake up. I knew, seeing his heartbroken mom, that I would have to come to terms with the fact that we would never be able to keep our promise to each other. He lost his battle. He didn’t overdose. It was a blood infection that took him from us. It was the ignorance and mistreatment of our healthcare system that allowed the infection to get bad because they judged him like so many people do to those who are battling their own demons.

It's so hard to keep in contact with everyone while also going through your own issues. I was struggling with a relationship that should have ended long before it did. I didn't know my friend was going through any of these things, and there will always be a part of me that feels like I should have been a better friend. I should have been there for him like he was for me when I needed him. I was so caught up in my relationship that I lost touch with a few people. He was one of them. When I was told he was in the hospital and heard all the details, I was already in a downward spiral. I was depressed and drinking way more than I ever should have.

Most of the first year he was gone, I can barely remember because mentally I was so checked out, but of course my body physically held onto those memories. Every year, I would go through this weird feeling of being empty midway through October. I realized that I may be able to talk about his death, but I’ve never fully come to terms with the fact that I’ll never see him again. For seven years, I just keep telling myself that we just lost contact and he’s doing well, and then it randomly hits me again that I’m lying to myself. He wasn’t the first friend I’ve lost to drugs. I couldn’t even tell you the number of people in my life who have battled addiction and lost. It’s just been something that’s been a part of my life ever since I could remember.

The sad reality is that I’m so numb to what drugs have done to the people around me. I understand why people do it. I understand feeling like life has no purpose and feeling alone. I understand wanting to escape from your own mind. I understand wanting to numb all the daily feelings of not fitting in, not feeling love, and not trusting people. I can relate to being so tired of dealing with the same people who disappoint you time and time again. There are so many reasons people do what they do, and the most basic is that drugs just feel good.

Humans seem to forget that dealing with addiction is fucking hard. Withdrawal sucks. No one wants to go through that. Especially someone who is already feeling pretty low about their life. The last thing they probably want to do is stop taking the one thing that in their mind is bringing them some sort of happiness. The thing with drugs is that you’re looking for the next quick fix. You aren’t thinking about your future because, most of the time, you probably don’t even see a future for yourself anymore. Telling someone you love them will never be enough to make someone stop using drugs. It is something that they must want for themselves. If they don’t want to get sober for themselves and they keep trying to get sober for the people around them, it’s not going to stick. You can’t get sober because your mom or your sister want you to. You must want to get sober for yourself and find a reason to want to live again. While you’re on drugs, you aren’t living. You’re a shell of a person that you once were, and it can be so hard for the people around you to stick around while you destroy yourself when we know that there is not much we can do. We want to help, but most of us don't know how to even help ourselves.

I miss my friend.