Overdose of Reality

2nd-Annual-Gloucester-MA.-Overdose-Vigil-luminaries-2012Photograph from overdoseday.com, 2nd Annual Gloucester, MA Overdose vigil of luminaries, 2012

The last time Susan Cyr saw her son Eric alive, he was dressed for a job interview and asking which cologne he should wear “because he wanted to smell right.”

When the 32-year-old did not return home, his mother enlisted a friend to help scour Raynham and Taunton for her son. The police found him the next day in the parking lot of a Taunton CVS, his body slumped in his mother’s Toyota Camry.

“That day he left my house, he was my wonderful son. He was happy, very energetic, talking about going to college again,” Cyr said. “He wasn’t expecting to die.”

Heroin, laced with the drug Fentanyl, killed him five weeks ago, his mother said.

This was taken from an article in the Boston Globe and is available at this link right here: Heroin Capital of the United States

CAST THY BURDEN

Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee: he shall never suffer the righteous to be moved (Psalm 55:22)

We sometimes hear the expression used, “cast the burden”, and it is useful to consider what this phrase really means. Used intelligently, it is one of the great keys to spiritual victory. To cast the burden means to really insist upon harmony and peace of mind, and to cease from worry and anxiety there and then.

If, when faced with trouble, whether it be old or new, you can affirm positively the harmony of being and then refuse to reopen the case, no matter how much fear may urge you to do so, you have cast your burden upon the Lord, and you will win.

-From Essay by Emmet Fox “Cast Thy Burden”

“You are a signal, a messenger who lives the message, who embodies the meaning of the holy in every choice you make. You are a healer, a source of nurture and wholeness, here for a reason, a reason that restores the bridge of hope.”

Letter by Anonymous

I have to start off by qualifying for some good pain and expressing grief stuffed so far down, it seeps out slowly into my heart and my soul…it is an intense physical sensation that grabs my whole being and shakes it a little. I tend be poetic when writing about it, and by relating to someone else being ripped away from you by drugs…it helps heal that pain and grief.

For 10 years I visited all those places on earth that I saw in movies and read about in books. I hated the way I looked, hated the way it that made me feel, but if one thing was certain in a very uncertain life, it was the need to be free and to find something real.
It started with a joint of marijuana that I was so ignorant about, I didn’t even inhale at first. Then it went to having a couple beers. Then shots of liquor. On and on and so it goes to the next form or “freedom”. I wanted freedom for the simple fact that I lived in a good family and I felt so unloved and I just couldn’t exist without some sort of silence or fight amongst us. I snuck out, and stayed out, and I learned really fast the damage done by the endless, infinite obsession around me. Sister is not around she is at college down South. Mother and father play a role not unlike two policemen and guess who the runaway prisoner.was?
I was prisoner of my own soul, and I paid my own ticket thank you very much. I want to thank Heroin for being such thief. You don’t even wait til it gets dark, because dope never sleeps and while my mother waited at home I was searching for a fix that would make me feel less crazy, psycho alone.
To sum up the beginning of my life and the world I knew in New England: pain and anger from fear and lies ruled me like a crazy king. 10 years was how long it took me to get to a point in my life where the past no longer haunted me like a demonic ghost. I traveled in different circles as an covert agent moves on a mission to find the truth. Deep down was the idea that one day I would be okay, but the reality of it was that I had to walk my own way out of everyday hell. Waking up with a sickness that won’t let go not for a second, and seeped in such a saturated brain soaking in brown syrup I doubted I would ever see a happy joyous free day again. Not like those untouchable memories that are sunny, in the backyard playing catch or shooting supersoakers, a happy family you can tell by the smiles, now only photographs placed in spiritual books.
The Boston Globe reporter was not an addict, and therefore does not know the truth in matters involving a serious, life-or-death disease that is bigger than any cancer known to mankind. How is that possible? The truth is in the numbers of deaths involving drugs and alcohol from a disease that is so powerful it can kill families. A big percentage of the people in our country are involved with this disease. Alcoholism was first compared to cancer, noticing the contrast in responses to someone who has cancer compared to someone who has a cancer of the brain, of the mind.
When someone has cancer they are compassionate, loving, and either sympathetic or empathetic to what they are going through. Not so much with the junkie, or addict -and addict means alcoholics too – since the addict usually hurts those around him before anyone ever realizes he has a disease. The ignorance surrounding addiction today is astounding. With all the treatment centers in Massachusetts, and all the options available, there is still a negative perception of anything involving the words heroin, cocaine, crystal meth, bath salts, fentanyl, percocet, oxycontin, benzo’s, any pill that ends in pam, the list goes on ad infinitum but what should be recognized most importantly is the fact that more young kids and fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, brothers, sisters, are getting ripped away from us.
Ups and downs came and trouble went like the wind in the trees and breeze through your hair. That soft and seductive whisper as it rushes by your ear drums. Such a beautiful life I have lived to this day. Even now, as I sit in the shade from the angry sun shining and setting the afternoon ablaze.
The fire inside is burning live and well enough to finally be of service to others who need a hand to hold, or a hug, or a couple bucks for some gas, or maybe help through school, or maybe it is JUST LOVE!

Where there is shadow, may I bring light
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