This is the hardest thing for me to write.
I told you before about how John had continued smoking heroin after our honeymoon and had changed so much in such a short period. I tried to get him to stop, but I should have done so much more. Not once did I ask him to go to rehab or see a therapist.
Not once did I throw out his drugs, or tell him that I wouldn’t keep paying his share of the rent since he just stayed home and smoked all day. I made it known I was unhappy, but I didn’t really consider that John was in serious trouble.
I’ll never forget the day he died. As long as I live those memories will haunt me.
I came home from work one day. As usual, the place was a mess, thanks to John. He had left dishes and takeout containers in the living room in front of the TV, and there was a little pipe on the coffee table. I was so tired from work and fed up. Why couldn’t he at least clean up after himself?
I called out his name, but he didn’t respond. I had noticed his car outside on my way in so I knew he was home. I got a bad feeling in my gut as I yelled his name out a couple more times.
I pushed open the door to our bedroom and saw John sleeping in our bed. Except he wasn’t asleep; he wasn’t breathing, and his skin was cold to the touch. I panicked and tried to give him CPR, and called 911.
But it was too late. John had overdosed on heroin, which had slowed his breathing down so much that his brain wasn’t getting enough oxygen and he died. I was a widow in less than a year after my wedding.
I will have to live with my failure to help John for the rest of my life. I know it’s not my fault, but I can’t help but feel guilty. I know I could and should have done more to try to stop him.
Please don’t let this happen to you or someone you love. If you suspect a drug problem, get help right away. Please learn from my story and don’t make the same mistakes.