Stigma

Have you ever lost someone that you loved so very much? Have you ever felt the pain of knowing that you won't ever see them again? Have you cried those burning tears for them? Have you ever had someone tell you that that person does not deserve your grief?

I have.

Have you ever been told that you aren't allowed to have your loved ones picture up on your desk? Have you ever been told that you aren't supposed to bring up their name, because it makes others "uncomfortable"?

My mom has.

Have you ever known that as your loved one was dying there was someone with them? Someone that could have saved him? Someone that could have had a hand in helping him still be here today? Someone that, instead of helping, walked away because he was "too fucked up."

I do.

Yes, my brother died from a cocaine and heroin overdose. Was he a bad person? No. Do I miss him? Every single day.

But today, those of us that have lost our loved ones to this kind of death. This disease that takes over the mind--the addiction, we live with a stigma. We live with a stigma that is attached to us for the rest of our lives, because of the way our loved ones died. As mentioned above, I have been told before that my brother did not deserve for me to mourn his death. He "made his choices, and therefore caused his own death." According to the person that said this, people only deserve to be mourned when they die tragically, or from natural causes. Someone dying from cancer, or in a car accident, or simply because they're old are the only ones that are "allowed" to be mourned. But because my brother decided to get involved with drugs, and because they eventually took over his life, he doesn't deserve to be mourned.

Nobody wants to hear about how Justin died because it makes them "uncomfortable." My mom is not allowed to speak my brother's name at work for this reason. She was told to take down pictures of him that she had because they made people uncomfortable. However, other people in the office have pictures of their children and loved ones on their desk. Why is my brother different? He's different because if people ask about him, my mom says that he died of a drug overdose. And that must mean that Justin was this evil person. It must mean that he was no-good scum. And that, of course, his death doesn't deserve to be mourned, right?

Wrong. He deserves every bit of mourning that we have given him. And will continue to give to him. Justin was loved by many. Not just his family, but friends too. Justin made people laugh. He irritated people, and made people mad. But he made people smile, and he comforted people. So why does his death have less significance than someone else's?

He was a son, a brother, a friend. So why is his loss not as important as losing someone in a car accident or from cancer? Why don't we deserve to cry tears over him?

Not all drug addicts are scum. Not all of them live/lived meaningless lives. Justin made me laugh. He was my big brother and I never imagined that I'd have to be without him.

People make jokes about addicts. When Amy Winehouse died, I couldn't believe some of the things that I read. People were cruel, saying that she deserved it, and that she had it coming. She struggled with her addiction. That doesn't mean that her death wasn't tragic to someone. That doesn't mean that her family didn't mourn her. There are people in the world that cared about her and loved her and were broken about her death. And yet, there were others that sat and made jokes at her expense about how she deserved what she got. Whether or not she really died of an overdose, her family will live every day with the same stigma that my family does. Because she was an addict. And of course, because of that, she was obviously no better than the mud on the bottom of my shoe.

As strange as it sounds, the most comforting thing for me to hear when I tell someone about my brother, is to hear that the person has been there before too. They've had a loved one that they've lost to the same kind of addiction. Or better, they've had someone that got through the addiction. Now, this may seem strange to some. But these are the people that I can create a kinship with. Because these people understand the stigma that we walk around with. And they don't judge my family. They don't think my family must be bad. They don't automatically judge my brother. They ask about him. About his personality, about what kind of person he was. They are the ones that really want to hear about him.

So, my wish? That someday this stigma will go away. I feel this is a far-fetched wish. But I can still wish, right? I don't want people to simply assume about these people that we have lost. I want people to think outside their little bubbles and think that just maybe these could have been good people that made mistakes. I'd like to not get "the look" when I tell someone how Justin died. And I'd like people to realize my love for him is no less important than the love you had for a loved one that you lost. And I'd like people to realize that all deaths deserved to be mourned. No matter what.