I was going through the archives here looking for a post only to realize I never spoke about it. Well fuck me.
In Feb of 2013, my little brother overdosed and ended up in a coma for several weeks because of it. He was lucky that his friends cared enough to call for help. He was only 21 at the time. From what I understand he's doing well now.
I don't know why I never wrote about it. I was home two weekends in a row. One for that. The next for the weekend event that friends and I (yeah, Steve too) attended. By home I mean the event was down the street from my pediatric's office.
Saturday. Fuck. Frank's brother overdosed and didn't make it. I never got to meet his brother, as he was living in FL in rehab. He was 22. Just fuck.
That's probably why I didn't write about my brother at the time. I don't have words for this and I still don't know how to healthy process that weekend four years ago. Four years. It just doesn't seem like it.
All I'm asking is whoever you pray to or however you think we'll of others in times like these, I don't need them. But Frank and his mom do. More his mom.