Many of the directors and volunteers of the foundation spend a lot of time talking to people who have lost loved ones to addiction. We hear “They didn’t want to die” many times. That’s what makes this whole thing so tragic. Death is final. We know that by using a drug, that person was chasing a high, looking for release, seeking an escape, or wanting that “normal” feeling that they have come to rely on and need to function. What they didn’t know was fentanyl was going to kill them that day.
Amara didn’t mean to die; she never wanted to die. I have a string of texts between Amara and me from two years ago. I guard and treasure this last communication with her. One of her texts makes me cry every time I read it:
A beautiful life lost forever
I know she was trying, but I also know she was still using. Her body had come to rely on her drugs to function. And as I’ve said before, she was in stage 4 of her disease, and I honestly don’t know if she could have ever stopped and functioned as she did before she started using. But I know the last thing she wanted was to die. One of her friends reached out to me after her death. He said “She was so beautiful inside and out, such a great person. She never wanted to keep using. She wanted to come back to you because she loved you all so much.”
I believe that with all of my heart, and it breaks my heart to know she couldn’t stop, even with the help from three treatment centers, the love and support from her family and all of the prayers we covered her with on a daily basis. Maybe God was saving her from experiencing a worse kind of suffering, I just don’t know. Maybe if fentanyl hadn’t been in play, she could have been healed from her disease. There are so many what ifs …
What they leave behind
Regardless, death was not her intention, nor is it the intention of so many we’ve lost. I don’t have a solution; I can only join all the other families and friends who are mourning their loved ones. It’s a horrible place to be. There are some days when we can’t function and have to remember to be kind to ourselves and cancel appointments and just rest. When will it get better? I don’t think it ever will. It’s so senseless, and every day my body and mind try to process the loss of my daughter. It is never real. She left me and went to a place that I can’t go right now. She’s just simply gone, and that’s that. It makes no sense.
We can help you!
If you’re reading this and struggling with substance abuse, please, please reach out for help. There are resources on our site. If you plan to keep using, contact us for fentanyl test strips and Narcan–we have both on hand. If you want to chat, use our contact page to initiate that talk. WE CARE FOR YOU, and you have others who love you and don’t want to lose you. Really.