Overdose

​On August 1, 2012 my cousin Jeff died. Just 21, gone too soon. It was a tragedy to my entire family. However, the real tragedy is how it happened. When he turned 21 he got inheritance from a dead family member. He got his friends together and rented a motel room. He bought heroin and spent the night binging. Into the night his friends realized he was face down, not moving. Who knows how long he laid like that? 

​Only 21, dead. His brother does drugs too, though not such terrible ones. Yet, after his brother died, he was still smoking marijuana and his mother was allowing it, knowing one of herchildren had just died of a drug overdose. 

​It has been a little over two and a half years and the effects can still be seen. His mother has never really recovered. My immediate family is on the other end of the spectrum. 

​At Jeff’s age my uncle was on his way to his first war. My mom was furious. She couldn’t understand the selfishness of his actions. Seeing what he did to his family. At 21 her brother could have died in war, but he still had the audacity to waste his life on drugs. It isn’t fair. His mother still cries. My aunt almost cancelled her wedding because she didn’t feel right getting married without him there. Our family lost someone. 

​What is even harder to live with? Knowing he brought it on himself. Grief turned to anger quickly for many of us, which then turned to guilt. How can you be angry at someone who isn’t even here? But it remains his fault. To this day, I feel guilty thinking that, even though it remains true.

 Jeff: January 17, 2012