Twenty-six days ago, deep fear and sadness entered my mind. Things within came to a halt. Yet, no matter what, I keep moving forward like many others.
I press on through nightmares and a constant flow of thoughts that won’t shut off. I smile and show up to work every day. I coordinate daily routines, feed the family, get grandkids up and ready for school, attend Bible study, and so on. We carry on while stepping outside of grief to do it all. Which means at some point in my day, I step back in.
After the death of a loved one, most people flow through stages of grief. There is no determined time frame for healing. You step forward, you step back; you gain wisdom through the pain of loss. The process after death is all part of life.
That part, I’m comfortable with. I have perfect peace in the grief journey following death.
In my situation, an outside jab stings me over and over. I’m navigating grief through someone living. There is a frightening connection between the two that I’m struggling with.
It has a name- Fentanyl.
Relieving the pain for someone coming to the end is essential in compassion and care. I’m thankful for the medical community and the efforts they extend. I’ve never experienced end-of-life care first-hand. I admire those who journey through those days with family members.
However, watching them administer fentanyl every half hour to hour triggered an internal compromise. It wasn’t about the loved one before me; she deserved comfort and care. The mental battle is for the loved one estranged from me.
Fentanyl isn’t just a drug cut into other drugs. It’s the primary drug of choice for many people lost in addiction.
It is 2024, and we’ve all heard of the epidemic-level killer. We know the deadly outcome of this foreign and domestic created substance. Documented facts and the numbers are probably worse than stats tell us. For those living this nightmare, our reality teaches us the hard truths.
The use of medical fentanyl versus the street drug are two different things, I know. But my mind won’t grasp the difference. Each dose punched me in the gut. Fentanyl is a relief for those in end-of-life care and is a death sentence for those playing Russian roulette with their life.
Being between the two was a mental game of tug of war.
Almost a month later, the worry for my living loved one is palpable. Every day I reconcile her two choices- to live free or be ensnared by addiction. Yes, there is a choice to be made. Every person who activated long-term recovery once sat in the trench of indecision. They had to fight their own brain and mind and choose a path toward detox and sobriety.
There’s been little conversation about the dilemma of grief in passing and grieving the living. Those hurting through loss need time for healing. They deserve the space and to allow the flow of emotion. I keep my turbulence to myself. My family needs to walk through this time without my fears.
I’m a parent of someone living on the fringe of life. There’s only one other person who fully understands, but even he can’t understand me as a mom. From the beginning, I’ve been alone. People support and encourage. Some listen and cry with me. No one feels what I feel or comprehends what it is to live in my shoes. No one tried and fought like I did. Long after everyone walked away, I stayed until I joined them outside of addiction.
I flounder between guilt and grace when it comes to stepping out of the addiction cycle. I know I did what was necessary for my physical and mental health. I accept all consequences and surrender what I can’t control. I place my loved one in the hope that she will turn to Jesus- who is ready and able to do what a mom never can.
This past month taught me precious lessons on embracing life and understanding death. God gave me deep insight and blessed me with overwhelming peace. While I balance the unsteady emotions of living grief, He calms me with love through final mourning.
This is relationship and the gift we open the day we receive Christ. We are blessed in the good and blessed through the bad. Our part requires trust and surrender. God has our back. Rest in Him.
This is an updated edition of a post originally published on Authentic Truths
Featured Image Image by Michaela from Pixabay
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