Losing a Loved One to Addiction
TRIGGER WARNING: This post makes mention of substance abuse, suicide, prostitution, and overdose.
I am sharing this for all of you who have lost a loved one to addiction. If there is a community guideline violation within this text, please notify me. My goal is to send and receive awareness and support.
Four months ago, I received word that my family is more dysfunctional than I ever even imagined. A couple of years ago, my youngest cousin on my mother’s side was diagnosed with Schizophrenia. She grew increasingly delusional before finally being admitted to a psychiatric facility in Minnesota for the better part of six months. She seemed to experience some relief there and was subsequently released from treatment. She was stable for a period of time, started being a mom again, and genuinely seemed to be doing well.
April 8th, 2022 was the 13-year anniversary of my grandfather’s suicide, and I think it was no coincidence that this event coincided with another episode for her. The next day she was reported to police as a missing and vulnerable person. On Thursday, April 14th, 2022, my sister called me at 1:40am to report that she had been found. She stated that she was puking the entire ride home. Shortly after, she didn’t want to talk much and slept for the next two days.
Upon waking, she swiftly confronted her mother in a loud and violent manner with her kids in the next room. Her mother was asking her to go to the hospital, and my cousin became paranoid that that was just an excuse to place her on a 72-hour psychiatric hold. My sister revealed to me that my cousin has a meth problem on top of her Schizophrenia, and this isn’t the first time this has happened. She often prostitutes herself to support her habit. My cousin later confessed to her mother that something sexual in nature took place during the time she was missing but she still refuses to discuss it in detail. My sister told me she was totally off her rocker. It seemed she has discontinued her medication and was having a break with reality. Later that week she lost legal custody of her children and is considered a missing person once again. Navigating addiction and mental illness is so heartbreaking. She used to be the sweetest most talented girl I know, and now she’s on the fast track to pass away at the age of 24 while leaving two beautiful babies in her wake.
By nightfall I was crying on the shower floor. A weird grief moved through me knowing my family was suffering and I have to distance myself from that. On the other hand, it completely reinforced the fact that I made the right decision by leaving years ago. I can’t imagine being there now and actively being exposed to these things again, much less my son. It has made me so grateful for my own wife and kids. Even our worst day pales by comparison.
My youngest cousin was located and returned home briefly only to find that days later her older sister was discovered unresponsive by police in her apartment. The police notified my aunt around June 15th, 2022 and my sister called me sobbing. Needless to say, we were utterly devastated awaiting conclusion on her manner of death and trying to decide what to do with her remains. The toxicology findings were that she died of a fentanyl overdose, her remains were cremated as it was too expensive to transport her the three-hour trek north, and her funeral was held June 30th, 2022 at the Vinyard Church in Duluth, Minnesota. She was twenty-seven years old.
The whole thing has been surreal and heartbreaking. Amid my own grief I was forced to juggle the various reactions and poor coping skills of my family members. I spent the first couple of days in shock before the real grief hit. It soon came to light that she had been hospitalized for sepsis and covid just weeks earlier. It makes me sick to know that that sweet little girl I grew up with strayed so very far. Since her death, her younger sister has gone missing again. It is assumed that she is running the streets of Minneapolis the same way her sister did and will succumb to the same fate while her children sit in foster care. In the days that followed, I wrote this:
“How many times must one family tragically bury their loved ones before their time? I can no longer sustain the blows or wailing phone calls. I find myself reduced to tearful shock, nausea, and exasperation by the circumstances that keep my family rooted so deeply in generational trauma. So many of us have lost the fight trying to claw our way out. Perhaps least of all was [she] suspected of that same outcome.
She was a devoted big sister, a lover of God and goodness, a talented musician, a gifted student and artist making her way in the big city. She was the first daughter of my uncle, who is also my namesake.
She was only just beginning.
[she] leaves behind a little sister who I worry won’t know how to navigate without her, her parents, grandparents, cousins, nieces, nephews, and everyone who had the joy of loving her.
She was so far from herself toward the end, and we had drifted apart due to the very nature of reckless mental illness. Still, I can’t help but remember that beautiful little girl with big brown eyes and a song in her heart.
[Her] legacy could have been worlds apart from the addiction that consumed her. I will forever grieve that missed potential, and those left behind to suffer.
Rest now, babygirl. No more pain.”
Subsequently, I sunk into a deep depression and forced myself back to my support group where I told [her] story and cried in front of a room full of strangers. It has been difficult to process and even now I am frequently having to pause while writing this.
I tried to travel home for the funeral, but I was too new in my current role and my job only offers three days bereavement leave for immediate family members. Unfortunately, that means that [her] passing did not qualify. I was able to attend via facetime, however. As I sat in my car and saw my entire family grieving, I quickly resented all of it. I do need to go home eventually, though. If for no other reason than to learn the truth of exactly what happened.
If you have lost a loved one to addiction, I invite you to use this space to share your wisdom and reconciliation in the comments below. Anything helps. Thank you for reading.
Sun. I just finished reading your post, and I am slowly typing each letter on my keyboard, as what you said processes through my mind. I am in shock. No joke. Your words have touched me deeper than anything I ever imagined could. I feel those tears coming to my eyes, slowly working their way up. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. What you have just described is my worst nightmare. I suffer from an addiction. A p**n addiction. And I don't want to end up like that. I want to love, and be loved. I want to show my talent to the world. I don't want to fall into the filthy pits of addiction. It hurts me, it really does. I want to show the world what love means. What caring beyond boundaries means. I want to show the world what it means to be a good person. But each night, I curl up in my bed, under the covers, and I cry, as I am now. Because I know how I am going to end up.
ITS NOT FAIR!!!!! ITS NOT FAIIRRR!!!!!! Can't I live a normal life?? Can't I look a person in the eye and smile at them, without any evil in my heart?? Why is that so hard?? Why? Sun, it hurts. It hurts deep inside. Where no one can reach. In the inner depths of my heart. I'm a failure in life. I am. Everyone loves me now, but once they know my secrets, I'll be a shame. A disgusting excuse of a human being. I know that's how your cousin must have felt as well, Sun. I'm not sure, but I am pretty confident. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to stop. Its evil, Sun, its evil. Its a disease, incurable. I hate it with all my heart. I cry myself to sleep everyday. I cant stop. I cant stop no matter how hard I try. And I try. I try.
I just want someone to understand. That's all I want. Someone who understands what I'm going through. And to be there for me. And I feel so, so selfish for wanting that. Who am I, a disgusting coward, to ask for someone to be there for me??? I don't deserve it, I don't deserve it. Can't I ask for someone to hug, to tell me its ok, that I will be there for you?? Is that too hard of an ask?? I'm an evil psychopath, I tell you, that's what I am. A crazy, disgusting, evil psychopath with no hope whatsoever.
I'm sorry to hurl my thoughts at you like that, Sun. I know this is not the place I should've done that. I don't belong here. I hope you find people who can help you with that. I know I was of no help 😞.
@thoughtfulGrapes1163
Thank you for such a well thought out reply, Grapes.
To be fair, I don't think any of us are all good or all bad. Like most things, personality has a spectrum, and we all fall somewhere in between. I could truly feel your words through the screen, and I am very grateful for your support. My hope was that my story would resonate with someone, anyone, in need. I am still alternating between shock and grief myself. I am very sorry to hear you are hurting as well and hope you have found some relief since this post.