Sigh – Death is never fair.

I’m so freaking mad or sad. It depends on the second. To begin with I was sad. So sad. Then after more information all I could feel was intense anger with sadness added in. What the f’ing hell was he thinking?

Today I missed some calls from my best friend. Followed by a text “V died”. I saw my phone. Read those words and stood there. In shock. Not possible. Then I called her back…

She answers. We sit in silence for a second and I finally ask what’s going on, please tell me that’s not real. No, it’s real. He’s gone. How? What happened? She doesn’t know. Her sister called and said he was in the bathroom when she went to bed and she just got up and he was in the bathroom still or again and wouldn’t respond. The door was locked. She was scared to go in as it felt off, felt weird.

She threw on a robe and went over. Broke into the bathroom door. He was gone. Slumped over. Not breathing. No pulse. Cold. Purple. Her sister called 911.  The EMT’s confirmed he was DOA and they proceeded to wait for the coroner. Nothing looked strange. Odd. Nothing. Maybe a heart attack or embolism. Maybe he was on the toilet as he didn’t feel good. They’d do an autopsy soon and confirm the results.

Her sister lost it. The EMTs tried to take her in. She wouldn’t go. His kids were all there. His daughter requested to say good bye to her dead father. His son was hysterical.

I was sad. So sad. You don’t deserve to lose your dad at 10, 16 or 18. You shouldn’t lose your partner in theirs early 40s. A parent shouldn’t bury their child. My friend shouldn’t be dead. No. No. No. No.

I had a sinking feeling and asked how he’d been doing – okay. I asked if it could be an overdose. No. Maybe. Idk. He’s be clean and doing so good. Finally working. Calmer. Happier. A better dad and husband. But she knew he’d dabbled again recently. But thought that was it. Then she told me “But he had to go to XYZ’s the other day to look at buying something for her.”. No, no, no, no. Huge red flag. The same ho that was selling my exhusband drugs. The same ho my foster son’s dad had begun hanging out with and getting drugs from. The same ho my client just told me her baby daddy was doing drugs with. This chick is no good. She’s bad. Gross. Awful. I want nothing more than to see her go to jail or prison.

After learning that I went back to hoping it was some freak health thing. Not drugs. It’s easier to think someone died from something natural than something preventable. To think they had no choice but to die. Not that they made a choice to do something that directly caused their death.

Later I’m headed to the store. They’d like chocolate milk for the kids. I get that and a ton of candy. We might as well all eat our feelings with sugar.

I pull up and the police are there. What? No. They shouldn’t be. It was something freaky. They left already. But I KNEW in my heart this was bad. They’d only be back if there was a reason.

A panic attack basically follows. I could not go inside that house. Could not do it. Negative. No. Her stepdad told me to go on in. Thankfully her mom met me at the top of the stairs and I passed off my goods and nicely ran out. Police. Death. No. I see Jamie’s lifeless body almost 19 years ago when I think of those two things together and it makes me sick

I then called friend who was no longer there and asked why the police were there. Oh, I didn’t tell you. No, I walked into that and was blindsided.

They. Found. Fentanyl. For real. It’s an accidental overdose. Now they’re quietly searching the house to ensure there isn’t more. Trying to put everything back nicely as one of the kids was hysterical she wanted everything just how her dad left it. He bought some kind of drug. He did some kind of drug. It was laced. Here we are.

He made a choice that led to his death. He had been doing so good and a relapse brought him to this. Dead.

I’m so fucking mad and sad. I’d like him to come back to life to f’ing scream at him. To tell him how stupid this was. My kids are crying. His kids are crying. Fucking bullshit. I know it’s an addiction. I know he didn’t plan to die. But god damn it, it was preventable.

And then I’m soooo mad at the ho. I have no doubt the drugs are associated to her. I hope this is it. I hope they can link them to her and I hope her pathetic self goes away. I’d love to run into her right now. But in the end – I don’t need to go to jail and that’s what seeing her face would do. Yes, I know it was the user’s choice to use. However, it’s also the dealers fault for dealing laced shit. It’s HER fault for seeking out men that have past addictions and doing whatever the fuck it is she does to get them using again. She’s scandalous. And if I now know FOUR men that have relapsed with her present. How many more are there? Too many. And if there’s some laced drugs in our small town there WILL be more OD’s.

I’ve been clean for 17 years now. I’m so thankful I am. I have no doubts I’d be dead or in jail if I wasn’t. It’s the best decision I ever made. Yet, it hurts so much to lose those that just weren’t lucky enough to get out and stay out.

The coming days and weeks are going to be long. Sad. Depressing. These children have saw too much death. These are my same friends that were also friends with K who was murdered nearly 3 years ago. They’ve lost someone like an aunty, they’ve lost their dad, they’ve lost their baby cousin who was stillborn. They’ve lost too much. Their moms lost too much.

It isn’t fair. It’s not okay. It’s awful.

Most of all – this was preventable. God damn, if you think you want to get high, relapse – Stop first. Think of how your family will feel if you accidentally die. Hell, write your own obituary first. Maybe by the time you’ve made it that far you’ll change your mind and chose sobriety. I have no doubts if he knew he was going to die, he wouldn’t have gotten high. He’d of never purposely left his kids. Never.