The opioid crisis in this country is alarming. Every single day I read about another person dying from an overdose.
I used to believe drug overdoses happened to “those people” and definitely not anyone in my family. We grew up in a strict Catholic household, attending mass weekly and had dinner together every night as a family. My parents were tough, but loving and I remember my childhood as a happy one filled with long days playing outside with my twin brother, Scott.
And then life changed
Those happy days turned dark quickly when I lost my … Read more...
“About four months ago, I was in such a dark place that I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it out alive. To be hones, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. Thirteen years of heroin addiction and failed attempts at getting clean had brought me to a place of such hopelessness and despair that giving up seemed like a viable option.
“I just want to see the twins turn 40,” my Father had eerily written to my siblings when we were 38 years old.
In my heart, I knew Scott would never see 40.
But I kept that to myself for fear if I said it out loud it would come true. We just celebrated our 40th birthday on June 24th this year and it was the hardest birthday I have ever had to face. Not for fear of becoming older, but because I had to go it alone.