THE BLAME GAME

Recently I had posted my opinion on who's to blame - the addict or their drug dealers.

Since then I have lost my brother to an accidental overdose.

He took what he thought was a Roxy 30mg for kidney stone pain.

Simply put it was not a Roxy 30.

It was fentanyl.

He laid down to get some rest and that was it.

He was gone.

To be honest for weeks immediately after his death I was just fucking pissed off.

I was pissed at the person he got it from, who is also someone very close to me.

Dammit I was so angry.

I was even pissed off at myself!

Why?

He had reached out to me for help and me knowing his history of addiction and knowing he had been clean for a good while I didn't try to awfully hard to locate him anything for pain.

I now regret that choice, I thought I was protecting him and his sobriety.

I've struggled so hard with my decision.

I've struggled with anger.

My anger towards myself and the one who gave him the substance.

I struggled very much with the whole "Who's to blame" debate.

I wanted to blame the person he got it from, I wasn't sure if I could ever look that person in the face again and not feel hate verses the unconditional love I carry for them. I struggled hard, VERY hard with the whole situation.

After some time I had to look at the situation as a whole not just the fact that he was gone.

He sought this drug out for pain, the hospital he had tried to utilize for his kidney stone pain treated him like a druggie due to his past and therefore he was left to treat the pain on his own.

He asked for something for pain from someone he trusted and that someone gave it to him.

He knew the streets of our small town had been flooded with counterfeit pills, overdose deaths are outrageous here and he knew the risk.

But having severe pain and dealing with judgemental hospital staff leaves a person few choices.

The streets are usually the only choice one has in this type of situation, unfortunately.

I had to keep reminding myself that it was given to him PER HIS OWN REQUEST.

He didn't mean to die.

The person he got it from didn't mean for him to die, they suffered a great loss too when my brother died.

It was an all around fucked up situation.

I, in a sense, lost two family members that day because my brother is dead and the other person has become a shell of the person they once were.

We live in an extremely small town and rumors are abundant and spread fast therefore this person has had to live with lots of unfair accusations along with their own guilt.

It was an accidental overdose.

The one who gave it to my brother could have and probably would have died instead.

Basically it was a toss up as to who was gonna die that day...

Drew may not have been my brother by blood but he was my brother.

Love makes you family not just blood. That is something he and I wholeheartedly believe. When your an addict, in recovery or not, you tend to make your own family and Drew and I had a sibling bond that will never die.

I miss him so damn much, we were each other's night time therapists, we were always "on call" to save each other in any situation no questions asked, best friends and family!

Although I write this through tears, shaking hands and a broken heart, doubting I'll ever get over losing him - I can say with confidence I do not blame the person he got it from.

He made his own choice that day, I just hope he finally has the peace he longed for!

Rest my dear brother, I love and miss you so much! I know our souls will meet again!

A SIDE NOTE

Y'all these pills on these streets are not safe anymore!

Please don't risk your life or the lives of your friends and family.

If your struggling with an opiate addiction go to a Suboxone clinic or a Methadone clinic please!

Fuck the stigma attached to them, it's better than death.

Contact me and I will be more than willing to help you find recovery resources.