Grieving Overdose Death

Samantha Ruth is not only a psychologist who helps those dealing with their grief, she also knows loss firsthand after her husband died unexpectedly. Her mission is to change the way the world views both grief and mental health, so people can openly speak about whatever issues they have and get the help they need without fear of judgment, labels, and repercussions.

She talks with "Grieving Overdose Death" about dealing with grief from an overdose, why this grief is unique, and ways people can heal from an overdose death. One of her mottos is: "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass…It's about learning to dance in the rain."

If you would like to learn more about the services offered by Samantha Ruth, please use the following links:

https://linktr.ee/samantharuth

http://www.samantharuth.com

https://www.facebook.com/groups/griefhab7/

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-be-ruthless-show/id1554585454

If you would like to tell your story about an overdose death, please contact Susan Claire at [email protected]

http://grievingoverdosedeath.libsyn.com/

Music provided by La Atlántida

From an early age, Miranda loved animals. At any given time, she had as many as three cats, three dogs, five chickens, a parakeet, a horse, as well as fish and rodents. She went on to become a certified pet care technician at age 11, and a wrangler at 16.

Even in these happy times, Miranda suffered from mental illness and was later diagnosed with bipolar disorder. She earned a bachelor's degree in psychology since she found the subject of mental health fascinating.

At the young age of 25, Miranda was discovered by her parents, Jim and Wendy, in her bedroom from an apparent overdose of prescription drugs. Jim talks about how he has found solace by dedicating a memorial website to Miranda on www.forevermissed.com, and establishing a charitable foundation to improve animal welfare and mental health services. For donations to the foundation, contact information is as follows:

If you would like to tell your story about an overdose death, please contact Susan Claire at [email protected]

http://grievingoverdosedeath.libsyn.com/

Music provided by La Atlántida

At 35, Noel was on a great path after being clean for a long time. He was in an accelerated nursing program, was a daddy to a beautiful daughter, and had everything to live for. But then COVID-19 hit, and his mom, Kathleen, feels that it had a lot to do with his relapse since he was alone and studying virtually. Isolation is not good for anyone suffering from this disease and so many more people are meeting the same fate at this time, she said.

Kathleen remembers her son with the following sentiment she wrote soon after Noel passed away in May 2020:

Can't Imagine by Kathleen

When my kids were small I always thought

I could never imagine what my life would be like if one of them died.

I still can't imagine it because I didn't lose him just once.

I lose him every day—over and over again.

I lost him when I said goodbye and hugged his empty body-

my warm tears falling on his cold face.

I lose him every morning I wake up

And remember he isn't here.

I lose him when I come out of a dream where I meet his eyes.

I lose him when I reach for the phone to tell him something funny

like his brother isn't happy with his new tattoo or that I love him.

I can't imagine surviving the loss of a child

Because it's not one big final loss,

but a thousand losses every day.

I can't imagine tomorrow, the next day,

The next week, month or year, because

I haven't lost him to that time yet.

There is no describing the impossible

even while you are living it.

My glass will never be half full or half empty again.

The glass is broken—shattered and scattered in a thousand pieces.

Grief is a thousand pieces.

It doesn't come just once for a moment in time-

It just keeps coming and coming and coming.

A cold, dark tsunami that I am inside of forever.

I still can't imagine what it's like to lose a child

Because grief gets in the middle of the fact

and I am light years away from believing it.

I can't imagine what it's like to lose a child

even though I have lost one because the cold, hard truth

is unimaginable even while you are in it.

I lose him over and over again.

With every tear that falls, with every breath that's so hard to take.

I lose him every time I see his empty chair at the table.

I lose him every time I pass his room and see his empty shoes.

I lose him every time I look in the mirror where he once saw himself

And see a mother I do not recognize.

I will never be able to imagine the loss of a child because it isn't a place

you get to where you say, "I'm surviving without my sweet boy."

Like the same two waves never reach the same shore.

It comes and comes and comes and washes over me every day

and every day I am different. You lose your child but you never lose the loss.

The dark storms of grief never let up so you try to learn to wade through

the waters of the rest of your life, not imagining what it's like to lose a child,

but imagining what your life would be like if you didn't.

If you would like to tell your story about an overdose death, please contact Susan Claire at [email protected]

http://grievingoverdosedeath.libsyn.com/

Music provided by La Atlántida

Mary Kate loved the '60s: the colorful clothes, the message of peace & love, and the rock music like Pink Floyd. Her mom, Carol, said her daughter was born in the wrong decade. Everything changed when Mary Kate started losing weight and her parents found out that she had been using drugs. They were able to check Mary Kate into rehab, where she was sober for 15 months before she was found passed away in her sober-living residence when she was 22. It has been a tragic journey for Carol who has coped by reaching out and helping others.

Carol shares this message with others who have lost someone close to them called The Departure Date, Your life is like a mist. You can see it for a short time, but then it goes away (James 4:14): "You, as all of God's children, live one final breathe from your own funeral. Which, from God's perspective, is nothing to grieve. He responds to these grave facts with this great news: "The day you die is better than the day you were born" (Eccles. 7:1 NLT). Now there is a twist. Heaven enjoys a maternity-ward reaction to funerals. Angels watch body burials the same way grandparents monitor delivery-room doors. "He'll be coming through any minute!" They can't wait to see the new arrival. While we're driving hearses and wearing black, they're hanging pink and blue streamers and passing out cigars. We don't grieve when babies enter the world. The hosts of heaven don't weep when we leave it."

By speaking out for her daughter and the stigma of addiction, Carol and her husband, John, have been featured in several publications and videos (Use CTRL + link):

It can happen to anyone

Families mission to fight opioid addiction

Family honors daughter

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_jlTEI7OQqk

If you would like to tell your story about an overdose death, please contact Susan Claire at [email protected]

http://grievingoverdosedeath.libsyn.com/

Music provided by La Atlántida

When Melody was born, she was named for peace, love and harmony. She lit up a room with her smile and was hilarious without ever knowing she was funny. All that changed after she tried heroin and addiction took over her life. Her mom, Toni, remembers how super close they were through her teenage years and beyond. Tragically, this vibrant, beautiful young woman died at 31 in November 2019, six months after her son was born. Toni struggles with the tug of war between the joys of caring for her grandson, without having her daughter. She also struggles with grieving for her daughter, while not missing the addict that possessed her.

If you would like to tell your story about an overdose death, please contact Susan Claire at [email protected]

http://grievingoverdosedeath.libsyn.com/

Music provided by La Atlántida

Joanne remembers everyone liking her brother Johnny. He had the happiest and loudest laugh, and the biggest and best hugs. He was great at soccer, and track & field, and won many awards. They hung out together since they were close in age and were referred to as the favorite brother/sister combination. But all that changed when Johnny succumbed to mental illness and addiction for most of his adult life, and he died from an accidental overdose in 2018. Joanne advises others in her situation to keep moving forward and try to reach out to help others.

If you would like to tell your story about an overdose death, please contact Susan Claire at [email protected]

http://grievingoverdosedeath.libsyn.com/

Music provided by La Atlántida

Suzanne's son, Johnny, suffered from addiction until she got the knock on her door she was dreading and was told the news she never wanted to hear. Her son had died from an overdose at the age of 46. Johnny's younger years were hopeful when he was studying to be a medical doctor, but he succumbed to mental illness and addiction for most of his adult life. When Suzanne thinks of her son no longer on Earth, it is hard for her to breathe. She wants others dealing with someone in addiction to hug them and let them know they are loved deeply.

If you would like to tell your story about an overdose death, please contact Susan Claire at [email protected]

http://grievingoverdosedeath.libsyn.com/

Music provided by La Atlántida

Elaine was a world traveler who had a passion for cooking, and loved all types of music from rock 'n roll to reggae. She had her daughter, Stephanie, later in life at age 38, and they shared a very close relationship. However, Elaine was addicted to alcohol as far back as Stephanie can remember. A few months ago, the day came that Stephanie dreaded for so long when her mom passed away from her addiction. Stephanie is dealing with never hearing her mom's voice and laugh again, never being able to hug her again, and accepting that she will never be able to tell her that she loves her one last time. Stephanie wants others to know that addiction is something that so many people struggle with behind closed doors and never to feel ashamed of your loved one who is more than their addiction.

If you would like to tell your story about an overdose death, please contact Susan Claire at [email protected]

http://grievingoverdosedeath.libsyn.com/

Music provided by La Atlántida

Quincie loved hunting and riding his motorcycle; loved his children, family and friends; and was a really good cook. But he also put his family through 10 years of heartache and pain as his addiction grew from marijuana to heroin. He passed away at the age of 31 from an accidental overdose while living in a halfway house. His mother, Jennifer, is coping with her son's death through activism. She posts regularly about addiction on Facebook and her Twitter account (@_jennystarfish_) and was recently featured in an article on MEDPAGE TODAY entitled "Many Residential addiction Tx Centers Don't Offer MAT, at a Deadly Cost" https://www.medpagetoday.com/special-reports/exclusives/88870?trw=no. She speaks about addiction to help others and as reparations to her son since she did not fully understand the disease of addiction.

If you would like to tell your story about an overdose death, please contact Susan Claire at [email protected]

http://grievingoverdosedeath.libsyn.com/

Music provided by La Atlántida

Maddy was a young woman of extremes—a soft, kind and gentle heart with a powerful, fierce and stubborn mind. She never quite understood the word, "No", subsequently she could always open your mind to try and see things her way. She excelled at school, winning a partial scholarship to a university where she planned on being a lawyer. However, from an early age she fought against a smothering internal cloud of depression which led her to substance abuse. At the tender age of 20 in July 2020, she was found by police from an apparent overdose. Her father, JB, talks about his deep love for his daughter and how he is trying to find his way without Maddy in his life.

If you would like to tell your story about an overdose death, please contact Susan Claire at [email protected]

http://grievingoverdosedeath.libsyn.com/

Music provided by La Atlántida