“Overdose” Widow
#TogetherWeCan break the stigma around drug poisoning deaths
August 31st is International Overdose Awareness Day (IOAD). It’s a global movement that started in Australia and in Canada there are a lot of events run by Moms Stop The Harm, an advocacy group I’m part of (and no you don’t have to be a Mom to join). You might see purple ribbons, events or buildings lit up purple for this day. And it’s another inescapable reminder of Michael’s preventable death and the many other thousands of other people’s someone special who are taken too soon.
A few days before Mike died, we had celebrated something special… our three-month wedding anniversary. I remember feeling a little silly for making a fuss over what I assumed would be a tiny milestone, of which we’d have many more to come. That was the plan.
If I had known then, well, I would have done a lot of things differently. For starters, I would have definitely ordered us extra pepperoni on that pizza and a tiramisu each (it was so good Mike made me promise we’d get one dessert each next time).
But I didn’t.
And now I’m an “overdose” widow.
I put “overdose” in quotes because I don’t use that term. The coroner’s report lists Mike’s cause of death as unintentional “acute fentanyl toxicity”. So when I talk about how he died (and I have been asked this a lot more than I should, but that’s a rant for another day) I’m more likely to say he died from fentanyl poisoning or drug toxicity. Or if I’m feeling fancy: accidental fentanyl toxicity due to an unregulated toxic drug supply (rolls right off the tongue).
Language is important and the way we talk about our loved ones has an impact.
When I think of the word overdose, it implies that there is a known substance involved and that there is a correct dose to begin with. It suggests that they took too much of this dosage. Instead of one drugs, they took ten drugs! They wanted to get high, and then higher! In other words, they’re too blame.
No.
Our loved ones are dying from often unknown substances disguised as other things, with unknown strengths and capacities. There can be no correct dose from an unregulated poisoned drug supply.
It’s easy to judge and other when our social conditioning has taught us to, but finding a way to understand is essential to our humanity. I now understand that people with substance use disorder aren’t using drugs to get high, but to escape pain. They take risks because they don’t see other options.
All this to say, I’ve never really connected to the word “overdose” to describe Mike’s death. It feels wrong, reductive and misleading. And I understand that it’s part of our language. His deaths and other deaths like it are sometimes reported in the media using the term overdose (although I do notice that is shifting). And it reaches people who may not understand what “death due to fentanyl toxicity from an unregulated drug supply” means.
So just as people reappropriate words that are originally used in a disparaging way, I want to reclaim this word in a way in terms of my identity as a widow, and have it in quotes to try and get some of the nuance across.
It’s hard not to think back to that time right before he died, innocently celebrating three months married with a hike up a mountain and takeout from a favourite restaurant, and beat myself up for all that I didn’t know.
I’m plagued with questions I’ll never get the answer to. And I wish I’d done things differently. I’m also aware that I could have been more aware and prepared, and had naloxone in the house, and been in open discussion about a potential relapse. I’m aware that I could have done all that and it could have still been the same outcome. The drug supply is so toxic that he still could have died. I could still be an “overdose” widow.
Part of the challenge of talking openly about this is because it’s not just my story. Mike fought hard every day in his recovery. And devastatingly one slipup cost him everything. And while he was open about some aspects, he kept a lot of it quietly inside. I can’t ask his consent about sharing how he died. And that is tragic. I also don’t want how Mike died to overshadow the importance and meaning of how he lived wholeheartedly and with love.
And I know in my heart he would be proud of the change I’m striving for. And if his legacy could help others, he would want that too because he deeply valued honesty.
Being open and talking about the hard things is the only way we will break down the stigma. And breaking down the stigma is the way we tackle shame. It’s the shame that keeps people silent and disconnected, and disconnection is a driving force behind addiction.
I’m sharing what I’ve learnt in advance of IOAD, which this year has theme of ““Together we can”, highlighting the power of our community when we all stand together”.
I hope to add awareness around what someone else might be going through. And reminding us that we never, ever, ever know what someone else is going through.
I sadly can’t ask Mike and break down that shame and stigma cycle. It’s too late. We never got to celebrate four-months married, he never got to eat his favourite pepperoni pizza again, but maybe it’s not too late for someone else.
Script to share:
In this spirit, I also wanted to share a script I wrote based on my experience as an “overdose” widow. It’s a spec script of The Office, of which I’m a huge fan. I felt like this was a good way to get my points across in perhaps an easier to digest format. I’d be honoured if you read it and it if helped explain my point of view in a way that’s meaningful for me.
You can read a PDF of my script here.
Resources:
Get help with substance use in Canada and the USA.
Here are some resources from advocacy group Moms Stop the Harm by province.
I found this book Overdose by Benjamin Perrin helpful in understanding the crisis.
More information about IOAD. #togetherwecan #IOAD2024 #EndOverdose