In honor of Overdose Awareness Day - August 31st

She sat in her car in the driveway with the lights off staring at the house in front of her. She had

been sitting there for almost an hour just thinking. Thinking about everything that had happened,

the heaviness she had been carrying, and how tired she was of pretending she was okay when she

really wasn’t. Her phone was sitting in her hand but she didn’t know who to call. She didn’t want

to bother anyone. She didn’t want to explain herself. She didn’t want someone to tell her that

things would get better when, in that moment, she couldn’t see how they possibly could.

She scrolled through her contacts and stopped on one name. She typed, “Are you awake?” Then

stared at the message for a long time before deleting it. A few minutes later, she typed it again

and finally had the courage to press send.

Her phone rang almost immediately.

“Hey.. what’s wrong?”

She tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t come out. She just started sobbing.

The person on the other end didn’t pressure her to explain. They didn’t tell her to calm down or

ask why she waited so long to say something.

They simply said, “I’m coming. Just stay there.”

Ten minutes later, headlights pulled into the driveway. The person got out, walked over to her

car, opened the door, and sat beside her. Then she finally whispered, “I really thought nobody

would care.”

The person beside her took her hand.

“I care, and I would notice” they said. “I would miss you and I’m really glad you called me.”

That was it.

She broke.

Years of holding everything in came pouring out, and for once, she didn’t have to apologize for

crying.

She cried because she was hurting, She cried because someone came.She cried because, maybe

for the first time in a long time she realized she wasn’t invisible.

They stayed until the sky started turning blue, she looked out the window. The same problems

were still there.The same life was waiting for her, but something had changed. She was still in it.

She opened the car door and stepped outside.

The sun was coming up.

She stood there for a second, taking it all in, and whispered to herself “I made it.”

And maybe nobody else would ever understand how big those three words were.

Because they weren’t just about surviving one night, they were about every tomorrow she almost

never got to see. The birthday she hadn’t celebrated yet.

The people she hadn’t met yet.

The places she hadn’t seen.

The songs she hadn’t heard.

The laugh that hadn’t happened yet.

The version of herself she hadn’t become yet.

She had no idea what her life was going to look like from that moment forward.

But she was alive.

And maybe that’s the part nobody talks about enough the person who almost didn’t make it

through the night is still a person with a future they haven’t gotten to see yet.

She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring But she made it home.

And tomorrow was waiting for her.

In Loving Memory

This blog is dedicated to every life lost to overdose, every family member left behind, and every person still fighting for recovery.

They were never just a statistic. They were loved, they mattered, their lives mattered

We remember those we've lost, we honor those still fighting, and we keep fighting for the lives we still have the chance to save.

You matter, your life matters, your story is not over.

In honor of Overdose Awareness Day - August 31st.