Grief Graffiti

August is Overdose Awareness month & while nothing can change the outcome for my son who died, my heart continues to break for those still struggling with addiction & the 300+ that die every day (in the US alone). My heart hurts for their families & friends, too, knowing first-hand how that pain feels.

As if we are not hard enough on ourselves already, we know what is whispered about our child. We know the judgment from others; we feel it emanating from them. It is not only in their words, it is in their body language, a nuance or in a thoughtless, hurtful statement. We are embarrassed and humiliated by not only the lengths our child went to feed their addiction, but the extent we went to as parents to try and help them. We are embarrassed by the things we forgive, such as lying, theft and mental terrorism, that are used on us by this person using opiates and opioids. We go the distance because of love and guilt. ‘If my child had cancer, would I ignore it or pretend it didn’t exist? Did I cause this; am I responsible for their addiction?’

I’m grateful for the progress made in the stigmatization of this disease & that there’s more open dialogue, resources & help now, but we still have a long way to go. I still hear & feel people’s judgement & blame, both on the families & the addict. I’ve learned to distance myself from those people, people who haven’t been touched by the disease personally, in their family. But I also understand their viewpoint, a point I also viewed from before I experienced it myself.

As a parent losing a child to drug addiction, there is some sense of strange relief when your child passes away from an overdose, knowing your child is out of pain, relief that you are no longer living in a nightmare, wondering where they are or if they are dead, waiting, wondering if you will see them again. Waiting for the phone call in the middle of the night which is why you sleep with your cell next to you every single night on the charger with the volume turned all the way up. Then there is guilt for feeling this way when your child is gone. It’s all part of the process and being human. As a parent you don’t regret anything you did to try to get help for your child and help them find a cure to their disease. Your only regret is that you did not truly understand it sooner. 

Today I read a speech a mother gave at the FAN IOAD Rally (Face Addiction Now – International Overdose Awareness Day) yesterday on this topic & her point of view moved me to tears. I hope we can all find a way to see it from this perspective, one of love, compassion & forgiveness. If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that this whole journey of life we’re on is about learning to let go of hate & vengeance & learning to love unconditionally. As Susan Sek says in her speech which I have added below, “I hope all of us leave here tonight with pride. Pride in ourselves, pride in those who fight the fight, pride in those who lost the fight, and pride in those who took up the struggle on behalf of someone else.”

I was going to apologize to everyone tonight, but I would rather say thank you.

To everyone in recovery or in the life, I was going to say I’m sorry that I misjudged you and that I thought that being friends with you encouraged my son to stay in the life. I’m sorry I thought one of the reasons he couldn’t get better was because he was with you.

Instead, I want to say thank you. Thank you for accepting him where he was at and giving him a place to feel accepted without judgment. Thank you for looking out for him when he couldn’t look out for himself. Thank you for making him feel loved.

I’m glad you made it through. You are the true poster children of addiction. You are the humanity and the beauty addiction cannot overcome. You are the hope that it can be beat and the proof that all of our efforts to battle the demon of addiction is worth it. And most of all, when I look at you, I know that despite the addiction my son was still in there.

To his friends who shared their stash with my son when he was broke or had no ride and he was in a bad way, I was going to say I’m sorry for blaming you for him continuing to use, that I thought you were taking advantage of him, and blamed you for the choices he was making.

Instead, I want to say thank you. Thank you for keeping him out of dangerous neighborhoods and dangerous streets where his desperation would have taken him if he hadn’t gotten something from you. Thank you for easing his pain and keeping him alive. Thank you for calling me and letting me know where he was and that he was OK during the times when he was bad. You weren’t keeping him in the life, you were helping him through it.

And if you didn’t know my son, I thank you anyway, because I’m sure you did all these things for someone.

To everyone who has lost someone to substance use, I was going to say I’m sorry that I misjudged you as well. I wanted to apologize for seeing you as one of ‘those’ families and seeing your kids as some of ‘those’ kids.

But instead, I want to thank you. Thank you for accepting me into your tribe and not holding my previous ignorance against me. Thank you for allowing me to tell my story honestly, and for telling your stories honestly as well so I could see I was not the only one who made mistakes or got angry or just didnt understand. Thank you for allowing me to see you and your children as people worthy of respect, so I could see myself and my son as being worthy of respect as well.

I hope all of us leave here tonight with pride. Pride in ourselves, pride in those who fight the fight, pride in those who lost the fight, and pride in those who took up the struggle on behalf of someone else. I will walk out of here proud of my son and myself and all of you.

Many years ago, my son joined the tribe of substance users, Four and a half years ago, my son joined the tribe of those who overdosed, and I joined the tribe no one wants to belong to, the tribe of those who lost their loved ones to substance use. But I leave here tonight knowing we are all members of one tribe, a better tribe, a tribe of warriors.

You are all my tribe, and I thank you.

~Susan Sek, FAN IOAD Rally, 8/29/24