My experience with how my life has carried on after my Bruv’s death is anything but passable. I had a thriving, successful real estate business in Ontario, prior to May 11, 2018. Upon arriving back to Ontario from Steven’s bedside around June 1, I listed a house the very next day and sold a few and listed a couple more over the three months that followed. I literally can not remember a single event from June to September, really. There I was, walking around conducting business in a complete and utter fog. It was as though my head was stuffed with cotton batten, but I was still able to drive, answer questions and see with my eyes. I was numb, except for the tireless throb of sorrow and grief. My Dad died three weeks after my Bruv died and I flew out to Edmonton for a week to be there with him in his last days. FUCK ME. As I write this, I feel tremendous sorrow and unbridled anger at the both of them for fucking leaving me…still. It’s March… why do I still feel this way? An...
Have you lost a loved one to the fentanyl overdose crisis? I have. This blog is to honour my beloved brother, to hopefully assist those grieving from their loss, to bring awareness to the role mental health plays in addiction and to advocate against this overwhelming overdose crisis we are in the midst of. EVERY LIFE MATTERS.