When We Lose Someone to the Disease
Heavy heart tonight, Keep Going family.
My friend just died. They found her in her apartment, surrounded by tequila bottles, dead on her couch. The last time anybody talked to her was Friday. Today is Thursday. Who knows how long she's been there by herself.
I hate alcohol. I hate drugs. I hate what they do to people. I hate how desperate and sad people get, feeling like they have no relief anywhere else, so they turn to substances to make things better because that's all they feel like they can do. They feel like they have no hope, nowhere to turn, nowhere to go, no one to talk to.
And it just sucks.
I'm grateful - so fucking grateful - that I'm not stuck in that place anymore, because I was right there. That could've been me so many nights. That could've been me. It's terrifying because this happens every day. So many people. So many beautiful souls lost to this disease.
But it also makes this work - what we're building here - so much more meaningful. There are so many people hurting, so many people who just need to know that if they keep going, they can get through it. If they would just keep going, they would discover they're stronger than they know.
It sounds so simple, but it's so hard at the same time.
Living life on life's terms is difficult. Recovery doesn't just happen - you have to really want it. You have to do things intentionally, really intentionally, to make healing happen. You have to believe that you're worth it. You have to believe that your life is worth it.
I wish this girl knew she was worth it. I wish she knew how amazing life can be when you actually live it - when you shut out all the noise, all the bad, crappy noise, and just listen to the lovely, beautiful music that can flow through your life if you allow it.
But you're the only one who can let it in.
I wish she would've known she could let it in. I wish she could've put herself first. She's left behind a beautiful family, and now we just have to move on. We have to keep going because that's all that's left for us to do.
I'm going to make a special bracelet in her name, in her honor. Because even in death, her story can remind us why we keep going.
For anyone reading this who's struggling right now, who feels like they're in that dark place my friend was in: You are worth it. Your life matters. There is hope, even when you can't see it. Even when it feels impossible.
Reach out. To someone here. To a hotline. To a friend. To anyone. Don't sit alone with those bottles, with those substances, with that pain.
We're here. We understand. And we believe you can keep going.
If you're having thoughts of using tonight, of giving up, of ending things - please reach out:
  • National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 988
  • Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741
  • Or message anyone in this community
Tonight, hold someone you love a little tighter. Check on someone who might be struggling. Be the light my friend needed.
Keep Going - for her, for yourself, for all of us.
With a heavy but determined heart, Lynn
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Lynn Adams
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When We Lose Someone to the Disease
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