After Our Son's Death Due To A Heroin Overdose, Many Friends Encouraged Me To Start A Blog Because They Felt I Could Help Other Families Struggling With Loss And Drugs.

     I was already walking around in a daze for over a year because our daughter had left to live her life without saying goodbye. My heart hurt because we weren't emotionally and mentally there for her for quite some time. Then, Kyle, our son, zapped us of our brain: the car wrecks, the totaling of three cars, the lies, the overdose, the breakdown. Then a year later, Kyle, our son, passed away from a heroin overdose. I wallowed in unbearable pain. There was nothing but agony, and anger at myself, my husband, and Kyle's friends, who knew he was using again, and yet told no one. 

     And then something extraordinary happened a few weeks after his death: Kyle's voice broke through the fog. "Mom, this had to happen. You're going to write a book which will help many people. This is one of the reasons I died. You'll write a book about your journey of healing and your experiences with me, and this book will help thousands of others who have lost someone. People need to know there is life after death. This had to happen so you could develop spiritually." I remember thinking, What does he mean?

     I muttered through tears, "So I had to lose you so that I could help others and spiritually develop? This isn't fair. I'd gladly choose you to be alive over any of this suffering."

     He replied, "It's the way it's supposed to be, mom.

     Because of Kyle's visits the first few years after his death, I was able to trudge through that horrible misery. I slowly found the courage to fight for my life and for my marriage: I wrote a lot, paid for trauma therapy, took natural healing workshops, and delved into tons of spiritual questioning. Over those first six years after his death, instead of tumbling entirely into that cavernous hole of loss, I grew in ways I could have never imagined. Am I perfect today? Nope, but almost…. Ha! Ha! I wish. 

     The spiritual growth and healing have been breathe-takingly painful and yet remarkable, not only for me but for our marriage of 40 years. It would have been so easy to divorce or lock myself in a room after Kyle's passing and emotionally shut down entirely to the world, but I wanted my life back, so I knew I had to do something to heal. And I think my husband knew he would lose me if he didn't agree to attend counseling. As a result, both have learned to show respect and talk to each other without judgment. However, we're still perfecting the art of being human.

      I was lucky that Kyle spiritually remained earthbound until we were both strong enough to let each other go, finally trusting the healers that we would still be able to talk to each other. He helped me not to go insane, to stop blaming his friends, my husband, and most of all, myself for his death. 

   Recently, I learned that from 1999 to 2020, over 10,000 have died from heroin alone nationally. That's over 125 people a day. "Overall, drug overdose deaths rose from 2019 to 2020, with 91,799 drug overdose deaths reported in 2020. Deaths involving synthetic opioids other than methadone (primarily fentanyl) continued to rise, with 56,516 overdose deaths reported in 2020. "

https://nida.nih.gov/research-topics/trends-statistics/overdose-death-rates

    I was floored. Honest, I had no idea that so many people had died due to opioids alone. But then, I realized that all the writing, growth, healing, and learning that allowed me to be at peace might benefit others. Now, I'm ready to share my experiences with people who have gone through a similar loss. It's time for me to be there for others and share how I went through hell and survived. I also realized that by taking a lot of healing workshops, I learned many things that could help families, children, and adults to live a happier, more fulfilled life.

   Helping others means revealing my painful backstory: Kyle's struggles with A.D.D., learning problems, depression, Bi-Polar II, Schizophrenia, alcohol, and drug abuse. And equally important, we finally understand how our daughter, whom we still miss horribly after 11 years of silence, had to escape this crazy house to live her life, find out who she really is and heal her way. 

    But now I'm ready to start this blog. Or should I say I'm ready? How many people want to air their dirty laundry, right? But I remind myself there was a lot of beautiful, colorful laundry hanging on that clothesline too.

   Your comments on the blog are welcome, but if you prefer, you can contact me directly at my email, tbboivin8@gmail.net. Also, you may have had some similar experiences or want to ask for some guidance. I'd be happy to listen and write back.