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POST SEVEN: Grief is a B*#ch.


When someone you love dies from an overdose and if that person who died has been struggling with addiction, the grief you might endure is different than grief felt by someone who has say, lost an aged parent, or lost someone due to illness. That statement is in no way meant to diminish the pain felt by those who have lost someone they love from something other than addiction and subsequently, overdose. Let me explain: my experiences growing up with a brother (and Dad) who was suffering and battling addiction from the time I was eight years old and he was 13, kept me in a state of “pre-grief” for 36 years, with the only reprieve being, when Steven cleaned up. It’s been fifteen months since Steven died.

What it was like then:
After my Brother’s and my Dad’s death, I drowned myself in gin and despair. I was grieving so intensely, that the consequences of my actions during that time, were of little concern to me. Everything was affected; my once thriving career, my income, my credit, my physical well-being, my parenting, my health, my relationships and my outlook on life. It took too many black-out drunks for me to realise what a shit-show I had become. Somehow, through the haze of gin and intense grief, I knew that somewhere in my shattered heart, my own death was impending. I knew that I did not want to carry on the legacy of my Brother, Dad, Uncles and cousins who had all passed an untimely death because of drugs and/or booze. No longer was I willing to use the excuse that Steven had died, therefor it was my absolute right to spiral down into the abyss of despair and grief. And if Steven is still “with me”, as I am so positive he is, he would NOT approve of his little sis grieving him in this way. He loves me and he wants me to be healthy; physically, spiritually and financially. He wants the best for me… I can see this now.

What it’s like now:
I quit the booze. And with that, came some serious personal growth that I choose to endure. My grief was like a dead flower that has slowly started to soften, regain colour, unfurl, and benefit others. I attend grief-meetings whose attendees have all lost a loved one to fentanyl/overdose, I work hard every, single day at my job and I volunteer and give back to people suffering in their addictions by training them and others how to administer Naloxone (medicine that reverses the side effects of opioid overdose. I hand out Naloxone kits at every event I can and to people at-risk who are without a home). I am present for my sons and My Guy and I’m told I have a sparkle in my eye again. I can feel my brother guiding me and I speak to him on the regular and honestly, I could care less if you think I’m crazy for doing so. I feel, for the first time in my life, that there is a power, greater than myself and Steven is a part of that power. I feel love and sadness and joy and a multitude of other emotions and that’s a-okay with me. I forgave life, for taking my brother away from me and in doing so, I feel a great responsibility to improve myself every, single day. These improvements happen sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, but they always materialise because I work for them. Also, I’m a bad-ass… so there’s that. xo







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