Last night I attended an Overdose Awareness Day event hosted by Today I Matter, an organization founded by a father in memory of his son, Timothy Lally. Today I Matter’s mission is “to reduce the stigma and shame of mental illness and addiction, and to promote the physical, emotional, and mental health of our community.” People gathered on the front lawn of the state Capitol to remember those lost as good people. Over 200 posters of the lost circled the event. Each poster had a photo of the person and a few words honoring their spirits and to recognize they were much more than their drug problem.
I was not prepared for the powerful emotions the event would rouse in me. These were but 200 of the million plus lives lost to the overdose epidemic. Family members spoke of their lost loves ones, many of who hid their drug use due to the public shame of stigma. Most of them died alone. Some died in their childhood bedrooms, other died hidden in thickets. Everyone of the deaths was preventable.
Earlier in the day I responded to an overdose not far from the event. A homeless man likely in his forties was found in a church parking lot, with syringes and drug paraphernalia by his side. The fire department got there first and roused him with stimulation. He was awake by the time I got there. He said he’d been up all night. He was from a neighboring suburb, but he had no one who would take him in and there had been no room at the shelter. All his belongings were in two backpacks. He said he did not want to go to the hospital. I offered him some take home naloxone, but he said he already had some. I told him about a place on Albany Avenue that he could go to tomorrow and they would try to help him. If they couldn’t get him into a program, they might at least help him with a sleeping bag or a tent. He could shower there and they would feed him if he was hungry. He thanked us and walked on, going where I don’t know.
I thought about him as I stood looking at the posters that evening. I wondered what his story was, where his family was, how he’d come to be there all alone, how many years his journey had travailed. I hope he gets help and finds a safe end.
“I once was lost,
But now I am found
I was blind
But now I see.”
-Amazing Grace