Losses my brother to heroin. Was there when he was found dead.

[Nataliecisar]

Warning I go into great detail.

I am 20 years old and i recently loaded my oldest brother. He was 41 years old. My brother was battling addiction with heroin. Wasn’t a 24/7 addict but he used once a month whenever he was “bored” or he just wanted to feel that first time high. This went on for a year and a half. He would over dose every time he used and 2 weeks ago was his last overdose that killed him. I spent literally everyday trying to fight for him scaring away drug dealers with my mom. Calling him to see where he was, following him around until 4 am with my mom. Helping my mom revive him everytime but it seems like all of that went to nothing. Cause he’s gone now. No one other than us knew about his problem every one knew him as that friendly guy that liked his beers and loved a good time. He had a heart like no one could imagine. He was the biggest mommy’s boy and I was the closest sibling to him. We definitely had the closest relationship out all the siblings with him. I reminded him of my mom he said. The morning of the 6th of June is the day he left my life. I slept in until 12:00pm cause it was Sunday my day off. My mom came home from church with the happiest look on her face came directly to my room to tell her how church went. She usually brought my brother to church every Sunday but this time she didn’t Bc she wanted him to sleep in. Before she left to church she said he was alive in his room with the door open. When my mom was done talking to me she went to go wake up my brother with breakfast. When she went into his room the door was closed and she found him dead on the floor with a cut on his head because I’m guessing when he overdosed he passed out and hit his head on the corner of the night stand. He had the needle in his hand. My mom screams something I’ll never forget, “oh my God kids come here something terrible just happened Your brother is dead”. When I got into the room she was freaking out she tried narcan which usually worked but it didn’t this time his body was cold, purple looking and puffed up. He had a smile on his face:(. My mom was so desperate to get him to wake up I saw her drag around his body around the room to see if it would wake him up. It was the most saddest thing to see. I didn’t cry I didn’t panic. I somehow was just silent and called the ambulance and my mothers family to come help since they live near by I knew he was dead this time because something just felt like it was the end besides the fact he showed all the signs and that he had no pulse. I called them to help her comfort her. The paramedics came tried to revive him 4 different ways 8 times each way. My mother’s family came as well so did my dad who was in the middle of working his friends from work drove him considering they didn’t want him to drive in that state of mind. My other older brother came to the scene as well. My twin sister was screaming throughout the entire time it happened. He was pronounced dead after they tried it all. They team of investigators took pictures of his body considering it was going to be treated as a homicide since it was an overdose. It took 8 hours for them to come and take his body out of his room so me my mom my dad my other brother got a couple hours to spend time with his body, give a kiss pray over his body and say our goodbyes. It’s honestly one of the most hardest things I’ve ever went though. I usually check on my brother that died to see if he’s alive while my mom was at church that day I woke up in the middle of my sleep while she was at church to get something to drink from the fridge and that day I didn’t decide to pop my head in his room to check on him like I usually would. If only I did. We still live in the same place I can’t sleep, I think about him and the smile on his face that he left with. I think about every detail that happened that day. I feel like everything is so horrible now. It’s just pure misery. My mom is strong some days and other days she’s a mess . I can’t walk around the house alone without fearing death. The day after my brother died I found out I was pregnant which I’ve never had a pregnancy scare ever I thought I was infill for the longest time but I’m keeping the baby, I feel like it will heal the family although this isn’t how I wanted my early 20’s to be. I’m trying so hard to stay positive but I can’t seem to at all. Does this get any better? I feel like I’m losing my mind without him.

[Kellie86]

I am so incredibly sorry for your loss. I can't imagine how that must have been for you and your family. 

My brother also died from a heroin overdose, 7.5 years ago now. My sister found him. 

I think you did a really brave thing, coming here and sharing your story. I shared my story and connected with others on this website when it first happened. It was really helpful for me to talk to people who truly understood my pain.

I know you can't possibly believe this right now, but it does get easier. The first few weeks and months are literal hell, I wouldn't wish that pain on my worst enemy. I'm so sorry you are going through this, and being pregnant on top of it all. The best advice I can give is to be so fucking kind to yourself. Allow yourself to feel the feelings. Shower every day and eat good food that you enjoy and go for walks in nature. Read positive books and watch funny movies and spend time with people who make your soul happy. 

I found this beautiful description of grief that I wanted to share. I hope it brings a little comfort to you:

As for grief, you’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive. In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything…and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life. Somewhere down the line, and it’s different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O’Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you’ll come out. Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come. And you’ll survive them too. If you’re lucky, you’ll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.

Take care❤️