Poppy Fields
2/2/25
I remember the day I found out she was gone. A call from a friend says she relapsed upon returninghome from the facility we had all met at. I had experienced the death of a friend before, but this was the firsttime it felt I had been robbed, that death had stolen another life far too soon. I wept that day for all who lovedher, for all who saw the light she could bring into a room, and for those who had felt her warmth but could nowonly perceive cold in the darkness without her. At the time it felt like all hope was lost, if she couldn’t stay clean, how would I be able to? How would any of us be able to? The answer to that question was clear, wewouldn’t. In the two months I’d been out, this was the fourth time I’d seen death enter like a thief in the night,and over the course of the following years, I’d lose count of many more.
Most people don’t just say one day, “You know, I think I’d like to be a heroin addict.” In fact, I’d sayalmost none do. The path for most I’d met during those few years I spent in drug rehabilitation centers wasaddiction through over-prescription of opiate-based painkillers. Studies show that some 80% of today’sheroin users started oU by abusing prescription painkillers, products pushed on the American populationby pharmaceutical companies for massive profits. Families like the Sackler’s made Billions of dollarsputting our sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, into a prison of the mind. This is a place so
unlike any other, it’s a place where not only your brain lies to you, but so does your body. It aches and writhesand twists as you fiend for a dose, willing to sell your most precious belongings, your body, your soul to getwell. If the brain is already lying to you, as is the body, how were we supposed to know that the people sellingit, prescribing it, and lobbying for it were too. We had no chance. These people are complicit in the deaths ofmore than 727,000 Americans from 1999-2022, and the torture of many more. They are responsible for anestimated 1.4 million children who grew up without a parent or other immediate family member as of 2019.All the while generating $35 Billion in revenue from OxyContin alone.
She made an impact on me as a young man, not in any “extracurricular” type of way, but as a friend.She showed me that I could feel love for a woman that wasn’t purely driven by sexual desire (although, shewas beautiful). When I would tell jokes she would snort with laughter, which gave me the confidence Ineeded at the time. Often in these places you come across people who remind you of someone else, but Ihad never met anyone like her. She was confident, radiant, and fireball of energy; I think about her almostevery day. But she, like many others, fell down a slippery slope and could never reascend. There was another friend I met during that time who I spent a lot of time with outside of the center. He got me a jobpacking boxes when I got out. I was grateful for the ability to put money in my pocket, something that hehelped me do many times throughout our friendship, and something that I returned more than once. Therewas a small group of us that lived together, worked together, and helped each other out. At its best, it wasthe first time in my life I felt happy; at its worst, a mixed episode that left me with lasting scars. This was a
formative time in my life, one in which I’d learn several key lessons that I will carry with me for the rest of it; thefirst of which being to avoid violence at all costs, a lesson I had to learn the hard way.
Evil, corrupt, and lost in the pursuit of the almighty Dollar, the Sackler family deserves no sympathyand will receive none as the American people attempt to heal from the damage they caused. The recentnews in early 2025 of an additional $7.4 Billion settlement being made by Purdue Pharma and the Sacklerfamily brings the total fines to roughly $16 Billion, a measly sum for the price of the lives of nearly a threequarter million Americans. If you take the estimated numbers and do a small amount of math, you will find theprice the federal government has put on each life is roughly $22,000. That’s how much your son’s life is worthwhen he dies of an overdose. They’re sorry you lost your brother, father, son, friend, etc., here’s a newHonda. It’s the nature of the illness of addiction to lie and tell you you’re in charge; maybe these people areaddicts too, addicts to the most potent drug known to man, Power.
My friends who have passed on all had something in common, they just couldn’t find love forthemselves. If you don’t have love for yourself, why would you treat yourself any diUerent than they did? Whywouldn’t you stick a needle in your neck? That’s the closest vein to killing the pain. Why wouldn’t you hit thewoman that loves you? You never thought you deserved her anyway. Why wouldn’t you want to die when theonly thing you hear from the voice inside your head is, “I hate you”. Being a fuckup is a self-fulfillingprophecy, if you think you are, then you are. Break the cycle.
As much as I despise the things my friends did, I love them. Without them I would not be the man Iam today; they took me in as a younger brother and I owe them for that. My wishes for them are the poppyfields of the afterlife be filled with flowers of love, rather than hate as they are here. As I close, I think tomyself, what does one pay back a dead man? I suppose all I have is my pen.
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