I lost my son. He was 39-years-old, fighting mental health and addiction issues. It was an ongoing battle that most people in my small town were aware of.
We were once again on a journey to get things right after a long couple of exhausting years. He had moved home, taking a new bunch of medications for severe bipolar disorder.
It had been a good morning, but by noon something was wrong, and by the time he walked downstairs to go to bed, he was angry, and I was just too exhausted to follow and continue.
I found him dead in his room the next morning.
There was no clear cause of death but assumed overdose.
I do not even know how to describe that first year. But this is what I do know – before my son’s body was barely across the river bridge, the rumors started. Everybody had a story.
All of a sudden, people came out of the woodwork with stories and ideas on what happened.
My son was discussed in the area as if people were speaking of the weather, the score of a ballgame, and they did not care if I was in the room or not.
It turned out to be a death by his prescribed drugs, causing a toxic reaction — not illegal, and not one over the prescribed dosage.
I do not know how I survived. It’s been just over a year, but I do know that my intense desire to defend my son and introduce the real young man who was MY son became an obsession.
I now find myself in deep sadness. I am grieving as if it was yesterday.
All the firsts are over; some wonderful things have come to light, as well as more answers. Everything I was demanding.
But it did not bring him back. I am still missing my son.
The people I called friends seem strangers to me. I feel betrayed.
Small hometown football hero who they all claimed to love was now fodder for the gossip mill.
I guess if there was one thing I wanted more than anything was to hear some good stories. Because by the time the first year was here, I had heard many.
They came from people I knew but had never really gotten to know. There were so many wrong things to say to me.
When your child is an adult and dies in a matter that is a suicide, overdose or killed, in any tragic way that might infer a scandal, my advice is: do not do as I did.
I about lost my mind. My anger was all I could feel.
I didn’t take much time to be gentle with myself or the people around me. I have gotten to a place I don’t care anymore.
I have to find a way to accept no matter how many people I prove wrong; he’s not coming back.
It’s Not Supposed To Be This Way
I have to accept this horrible reality of my son dying at home under my watch.
Now I have people say to me, “You have to forgive yourself and try to move forward.” Who are they to give me that permission? So even though the hoopla has settled, I am stuck in a place of bitterness.
Yes, I have begun to see a counselor, and I no longer talk about him constantly, I don’t flood my social media with his pictures, or quote after quote on losing my son.
I loved him; he was mine. I know how much he loved me. I cannot stop thinking about that morning.
I don’t have a regular sleeping pattern, but I’m working on it. I’m paying more attention to my health and trying to get back out in the world.
When your child dies in a way others can’t seem to wrap their mind around, be prepared.
I think my battle with my home town was more about me than my precious son. It was a way to stay away from this deep sadness.
He didn’t need a hero anymore. His battle was over.
I try to send the love I thought I could no longer give him to him as if he’s just away in a different part of the journey of life.
I know he would not want me to live so bitterly. But I cannot ever see myself having much of my old self back — just pieces.
I don’t know if what I’ve put on here will have a message. But I’m still glad I decided to do this.
He was mine, and he was beautiful. I miss him so very much at this point.
I understand your pain and it is heartbreaking. You can never prepare for the comments to come. I know this. Within two years, we lost my mother, my nephew, 26 to overdose, and my son, 28 in a boating accident. Even the comments said to me, around me, and behind me, somehow find their way to my ears. My son’s accident was traumatic, 3000 miles away, and we were helpless. People find a way to criticize him for choosing to go boating in an organized group. It can be a cruel world. I have learned to rewrite my address book. I now accept that certain people should no longer be in my life, but new ones keep entering. I hope you can do that.
Hi Paula,
I am so very sorry you lost your son. There will never be anything that could so dramatically change who I am. Erase the person I thought I was. Never. I do not look at the people or the place I have lived my whole life as I used to. I really want nothing to do with anyone as I feel so angry. Tragedy in the community used to bring us together and we all cared. Now it’s who has the best stories or the latest scoop. I’m not sure when it started to change so much but I must say that I have to take responsibility for some choices I made which were disappointing to my family and close friends. I’m a recovering addict. It’s been a very long road and I had already distanced myself from my old play ground years ago…it was a battle but when I saw what was happening to my son it was worth the battle. I quit feeling sorry for myself and I focused on Eddie. I could do anything if it meant my kids were happy and well. That includes my family. They are very good people. I decided to do my best to stop the criminal activity that was rapidly taking over our small county. Suddenly when I started standing up and fighting it affected almost every effort I made to keep my son safe and away from the people killing him. We had finally got a doctor to diagnose him as having a severe bipolar mental illness as well as possible multiple personality issues. I was told adding chemicals other than his prescribed medications was the equivalent of having a severe head trauma and he had the cognitive thinking capabilities of a 17 yr old…he was almost 40. This was not something I had prepared for. He was always so happy. Popular. Strong. We had a good family and we were happy. I decided in the late 90s i was going to lose weight and chose a very wrong way to do it. I did not see his struggle. I feel horrible and angry at myself for not knowing or noticing ….when he died the circumstances were sketchy, I kept fighting and am still fighting for the truth. I do not care that people think I need to step down because of anything true or false others have to say about me or my past. Eddie hated the way he was. I know I was the first one to drop the ball…but so many things were done wrong. So many people hid things. I’ll never stop trying to stop the drug traffic in my home town. I have grandchildren here. The pain is unbearable. I wear a mask most times. Pretend I’m doing fine. Inside my heart is crumbling. I miss him so very much. He was so easy to be around and had blue eyes and a smile that could light up the world. I was honored to be his momma…everything reminds me of him. It’s been 15 months. It’s still excruciating. All the emptiness.
I hope people in your situation think about their words more as time passes. Because in any kind of circumstance our loss and pain is greater than anything we have ever had to feel. It’s huge and it’s heavy. Just knowing they are gone, and there’s nothing we can do about it is more painful than their careless words could ever be. If they only knew. Most cannot wrap their minds around what it feels like to bury their child.
God Bless you Paula….
Jackie
Jaclyn, this article resognates so much. The love you had and have for your son is so obvious. I too have lost an adult son, 23y/o who was incarcerated at the time. I’m sure people gossip about it too. But he was such a warm, happy, giving and loving kid and I also enjoy talking about him. I’m so sorry we are all stuck in this club.
Hi Jennifer… Yes the love for my son was deep and next month it will have been two years. I’m still bitter.. however I’m climbing… Not anything in this world will ever be the same and I know that. And I will never look at people the same even the ones I have known for years. And maybe they were the biggest disappointment. Living in a small town there’s a lot of secrets and when one comes out it usually includes a few more on people who feel they don’t deserve it. However I look at it like this, if you weren’t out doing things you shouldn’t be you would not have to worry. I have found it in my heart to forgive some. My son’s stone is up now and it is magnificent I have to say, but even that was picked at. I don’t know when I realized that the people I remembered were not the same anymore but I know this my son figured it out way before I did. I miss him every waking moment I’m very sorry for your loss Jennifer ❤️God bless and hang in there.
Jackie
Thank you for sharing your story. I’m so sorry for your loss. I loss my 24yr old son on 10-5-20 to an accidental opioid overdose. Even though my story may be different than yours, I wanted to share. Through his early years battling addiction, I struggled inside with the shame & stigma surrounding the disease. But I knew my son and I was never ashamed of him and when I looked at him I couldn’t bear the thought of him thinking I was. To ensure he knew this, I became very open & honest about his addiction and made a point to educate people on what shame can do to an addict who is already struggling with their self-worth. This also allowed me to not care what people were saying and it eliminated their opportunity to draw conclusions on their own. Because I left them no room to do so. Even in his obituary, I was very candid and requested people educate themselves & cast aside judgement. Please don’t let other’s make your grieving even harder. Let them judge & think they are better by talking negatively. It only shows how shallow & insecure they are. You know your son & who he was.
Hi Susan,
I’m very sorry about your son. There’s so many things I would have done differently. But how in God’s name could we ever prepare. I do talk candidly about my son’s issues now…as difficult as it is at times. My community is very small and my son had so much family. The opioid crisis is rampant. Just since my son died there’s been more. They can say all they want about prescription pill toxicity but in my heart I feel it was an opiate. I have driven myself into madness fighting for the proper investigations. As well as professionals trained in their field. But we don’t get that luxury in these very small towns. My son’s mental illness played a huge part in his addiction issues. I fought it because I was sure if he got clean and sober he would be okay. In hindsight I knew better. I no longer care what anyone says, like you I’m very proud of my son and the courage it took to keep fighting the battle. I’m at the point now where I just miss him terribly as I’m sure you know all too well. Eddie was funny, loving, and loved the adventures of life. He taught me so much. Again my heart goes out to you …. I know how you long to hear his voice, hug him, or just have him there to fix a favorite meal. I try to stay in the good moments now as often as possible. I guess it’s gotten easier but it’s not better. I’ll never be the same.
God Bless
Jackie