I guess I will post a pic of the most recent friend to die a drug/alcohol-related death:
This pic was taken the summer of 1996, the year we graduated. That's me on the right, Robbie on the left. He's wearing his senior shirt, I see, and I almost put it into his coffin six weeks ago but kept it instead (not that it held any significance but that I have a million pictures from that summer and I don't think he ever changed clothes until fall...); died of massive brain destruction from a two-car wreck, his fault, head-on, and he was thrown out the back windshield. DOA, practically, as he was shocked back to vitals at the scene but was for all intents and purposes as brain-dead as they come, was disconnected from life support the next day, and all organs were donated. He, like me, was married for 10 years and had three--unlike me, my two to his three--kids, two girls (5 & 9) and one boy (3). I grew up with him, and he was easily my best friend. I had only seen him once in the past two years though, and we only lived 10 miles apart, but he owed me $400 on a car I'd sold him and he had defaulted on the deal (long story, but there were no problems related between us) and was ashamed over it and hadn't come to hang out in that long; to my discredit, though I had no concern over the money and had told him so many many times before we became seperated, I didn't bridge the gap either. He came by after Christmas one night, late, drunk, and we talked for quite a while, rather out of the blue, and he cried and I cried and we spoke of how much we meant to one another, he saw my family, et cetera, and then, yeah, like happens, he died in February and that was that. I carried his body as I had carried his drunken body many times in life. He was horrified of death, and he beat me to it. But, as it is, no more worries for him. I really only worry for his children, as I can't imagine mine having to deal with the death of me or my wife at their ages. He had finally beat his Xanax addiction as had I, though neither of us knew the other was also in withdrawal-Hell; we had withdrawn at the same time, last year, and we had started taking them together a decade ago. He died full of booze, instead.
I have had many more die, oxycodone & Dilaudid, Xanax, alcohol, suicides... and that's all there is to that, I guess. "Miss" doesn't even come close to describing it.
zombiesarepeaceful said:
Suicides are not cowards. I have the utmost respect for those who go through with suicide.
You--and the other similar statements by others--are right. Yes, we have one life, and if it ends by our own hand directly or indirectly doesn't matter. The person matters and what we all had together when we were alive. I may go one day with a planned suicide; so far, my family knows that it will be my choice, and one day it may be that way, one day a long way away, when I'm old and tired and want to go with dignity and lack of fear of the unknown... but if it happens otherwise before then, so be it.
