Addiction and death.
I am sorry. It’s sad, I get
it. Through common acquaintances, I have
caught whiff of another death in the scene recently. This was heroin. The older I get, the more pathetic I tend to
find it. Yes, that could have easily
been me. That being said and the fact
that I have managed to escape alive so far makes me feel I am more than
qualified to speak on this. Death from
addiction is not something to be mourned.
Addicts are severely twisted individuals desperate for love, attention,
connection, etc. The massive outpouring
of emotion, condolences, reminiscences and such only serve to romanticize the
moment of death to those who struggle with an addiction and are still alive. If you want to do them a service and show your
love, mourn their mess of a life while they are still alive rather than
encouraging it. If they make it to the
point where the addiction kills them, if you really cared for them, their death
is a relief. If it comes as any shock to
you, you are in a terrible state of denial.
The fact is though, that when an addict dies, their circle of enablers,
largely other addicts and people with their own ugly issues, is forced, for a
moment, to take a stark look at where they are headed. This is where the grief comes from. Honestly, many have either long forgotten or
never really knew who the individual really was so what is there to grieve? They grieve their failure as a friend, their
lack of strength to walk away from the party and they grieve themselves. I’m just not feeling very sympathetic about
this. I am not sorry.