OxyContin (A Poem)

I know a pill that takes your pain
When it slides down your throat
Or travels through your nose
Or courses through your vein

I know a pill that makes it better
You're numb to the world
It all melts away
And you're lighter than a feather

I know a pill that makes you blind
There's no right or wrong
Even the good is bad
You leave everyone behind

I know a pill that takes your soul
You live a double life
Drown in your lies
But tell yourself you're in control

Taking the Power Back

For the past two days I've felt completely paralyzed. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't smile. I can't move. My bed has become my island and everything that surrounds it is hot lava. I honestly want to venture out of self-induced isolation, but I am afraid to get burned. The world doesn't seem safe right now so I'd rather be alone.

Looking back, I think this started with the confrontation online the other night. After talking it out with Blake's family and a couple of his friends, they reassured me that they were supportive of whatever I felt was right. They never saw my actions as tarnishing Blake's memory and urged me to brush off comments made by people who don't know me and my real intentions. I was comforted by this, but still there was a small seed of insecurity planted in my head.

This seed was watered the other night after another jarring conversation, this time with someone who knew Blake very well. I'm not going to go into details out of respect for that person, but this interaction set me back to the time right after Blake's death when I was questioning everything. Did I know him at all? Was everything a lie? Did he ever love me? It felt like this person enjoyed saying things to have these questions resurface, even after I explicitly explained how the way they were saying things made me feel. I should've let it go. I should've backed away. But I continued to push back, thinking that maybe somehow I could change their mind.

People have told me a thousand times at this point that I need to find inner confidence in knowing who Blake really was, what he wanted, and how truly in love we were. If I am at a place where I let that guide me, no one can rattle me. I have nothing to prove to anyone. Negative comments or critiques won't touch me because I know the real truth.

I am giving people way too much power over me. I refer to myself as a people pleaser, but pleasing other people should never be at my own expense. I can still strive to make people feel comfortable, happy, and loved without taking away from my own comfort, happiness, and love for myself. Every time I give someone the power to instill doubt or insecurity in me, I am chipping away at my self worth. If I cross that line and don't respect my own right to these things, no one will.

That's not to say I need to be selfish and only worry about my own wants and needs, because that would make me no better than the people who have gone out of their way to put me down. Instead, I need to protect myself above all else. There is absolutely no reason for me to waste two days of my life paralyzed on an island of my own making. I say "my own making" because I can't blame the conversations or the two people I had them with for getting me to this point. No one put me here but myself. It was my own decision to let these things affect me in a way that caused me to shut down. I need to take the power back.

What Would Blake Want?

My blood is boiling and my heart is pounding out of my chest. I am going to try to remain calm so I can get my thoughts out.

I was just about to go to sleep after finishing my last post when I got a message from an acquaintance that I went to school with at USC. I am going to copy the entire conversation because I think I'll lose important details if I try to paraphrase:

Him: Hey I met someone who was friends with Blake, and they said they were really mad that you posted all those things about his heroin problem on Facebook. You totally have a right to grieve, but that is a really private thing that you publicized to thousands of people that didn't know him and now know him as a heroin addict. I really agree with him and felt I should say something.

Me: Well I respect your opinion, but I had full permission and encouragement from his family

Him: You should respect Blake, what would he want?

Me: He would want people to learn from his death. He wouldn't want people to have to hide their addiction because people would judge them for it. He would want people to find strength and get help. He would hope that what happened to him could serve as a lesson to others.

Him: Well I really hope that’s the case

Me: It is. Whoever is "mad at me" probably doesn't know me or Blake that well, so they can be mad at me. That’s fine.

Him: Ok....

Me: I know what I’m doing is right, so you can be mad at me too. That’s fine as well

Him: I’m sorry but I felt they should of told you

Me: Will you tell me who it was? (no answer for several minutes) I'm glad you at least told me yourself so I have an opportunity to talk to you about why you feel this way, but I think it's really a shame to not tell me who it was so I can have the same opportunity with the person you met. How can any of us grow from this if we say things behind people’s backs instead of confronting them? If that person is so mad at me, then I'd like to give them an opportunity to confront me about it

Him: Because it isn't my place. Just like saying certain things isn't certain peoples rights. You are in a bad place

Me: I am in a bad place?

Him: and you need love and I understand why you are doing those things

Me: I need love?

Him: but you should take that stuff down

Me: I am trying really hard to not judge you for your accusations about me, but how are you so certain you know so much about me, what I'm going through, and why I've chosen to do the things I've done? None of this is because I need love. It's out of love for Blake

Him: Look, it is up to you, but I think I have a very valid point. Goodbye

...And then he blocked me.

Rereading the conversation now that I’m not in the heat of the moment, I realize there are definitely places where I let myself get upset and combative instead of really hearing him out. Although this confrontation would’ve meant a lot more to me coming from a person who is actually friends with Blake and not some random person who barely even knows me, I do see his point. I was very quick to rattle off several reasons why Blake would want me to share about his addiction, but I had to ask myself, is serving as an example to others what Blake would’ve wanted his legacy to be or is that what I want?

The interesting dilemma here is that once a person has passed away, you can no longer ask him what he wants. All I can do is trust that his family and I knew him well enough to know what would make him proud. But this brings up the hardest thing about finding out about Blake's addiction.The terrifying question that I had to ask myself: Did I ever really know Blake at all?

This is a really big point of insecurity for me. With all of the lies and secrets, it's easy to convince myself that everything must have been a lie. But when I look at the way we look at each other in the videos of us, read the heartfelt and romantic messages he wrote me, think back on all of the deep, intellectual, spiritual, and emotional conversations we had, I know without a doubt that our love wasn't a lie. I knew the real Blake Norvell. So what if I didn't know about his drug use? His drug use was his addiction, not who he was as a person. And who he was as a person is COMPLETELY separate from that. 

It's very unfortunate that people can't separate the person from the addiction, which ironically, has been a lot easier for me because of the way Blake hid it from me. People like this guy and "Blake's friend" see the addiction side of him being represented and talked about and are blinded by that. Yes, addiction was part of his life- there's no denying that. To deny that and sweep it under the rug would only perpetuate the same stigma that causes addiction to persist and get exponentially worse. I can only imagine that he completely hid his addiction because people view it as a sign of weakness, a flaw of character, a horrific label that makes you lesser. Who would want to come clean and get help if they knew it would be greeted by those kinds of judgements? So yes, addiction was part of Blake, but it was not who he was.

Anyone that knows me or has read anything I've written knows that I have nothing but love, admiration, and respect for Blake. Learning about his addiction hasn't changed my view of him, and it pains me to think that it might have changed others'. I wish with all my heart that that wasn't the case. I wish that people could look at an addict with compassion and see their heart and their struggle and know they are the same person inside, but they just have a disease. Maybe then they'd have a fighting chance of finding the love and acceptance they need to start getting better.

So now that I've had time to cool down and think about his question "What would Blake want?" I have a better answer. The Blake I knew would do anything and everything in his power to help others, even strangers. I know in my heart that if his story could help save even just one person, he would give me his blessing a million times over to share any detail of what happened. He would risk people thinking badly about him if it meant that others could see him, a popular, well-liked, respected person, and know that if he struggled with addiction, maybe it can affect anyone. Blake was generous and truly selfless. He would want people to hear about his addiction and learn from it.

What's Haunting Me

May 1, 2013- 3:16 AM
"hey briana are you there i need to speak with you immediately"
"?????"
"Call me as soon as you get this"

I woke up at 6 AM to get ready for work and saw these messages on my phone. Why was Blake's roommate contacting me in the middle of the night? My heart started racing. I knew it had to do with Blake, or else why would he be contacting me? We had met several times at that point, but were definitely not close enough to message each other about anything besides Blake. What was wrong?

I messaged back. No response. I called. No answer. I texted.

I waited.

This went on for hours throughout the day. I tried to leave voicemails. I took every opportunity to send a quick text during breaks at work. I even sought the guidance of one of my coworkers. What should I do? Should I just ask Blake what it was or wait a while to give his roommate the opportunity to tell me before alerting Blake that he went behind his back?

I had been texting Blake throughout the afternoon, but nothing abnormal about the night before had come up in our conversation. After I had fallen asleep the previous night, he sent me a few paragraphs worth of ranting about an argument he had just gotten into, how frustrated he was, and how he didn't know what to do. After waking up that morning, I calmly explained how I could see both sides, he was going to be ok, and that things actually were working out for the better.

Around lunch time he finally responded. He didn't mention anything about the fight he was in, or my reflection on it, but instead just said: "I love you so much baby doll. I want to be able to just come home to you. I would do anything." I thought this was sweet, but not out of the ordinary. He was always good at sending me messages like that. He went on: "Baby I want to hold you and just hold you. I never want to leave you."

What I didn't know at the time was that he almost did. In the middle of the night he had overdosed for the first time. His roommate's frantic messages to me at 3:16 AM were because Blake wasn't breathing and had to be taken to the emergency room.

It wasn't until 6:30 at night that I finally caved and just asked Blake what happened. It was clear his roommate had no intentions of responding to my calls, texts, and Facebook messages, so I might as well just ask Blake why I was contacted in the middle of the night.

When I asked why his roommate messaged me at 3 AM he cooly responded "Oh, it's because I had an allergic reaction." He went on to explain that they were watching movies downstairs and his roommate accidentally gave him something that had nuts in it (he is very allergic to nuts). He said the reason his roommate probably wasn't responding to me now was because he was so embarrassed that he made a big deal out of nothing.

A big deal out of nothing?

I try my hardest never to think about this, because I know it's one of those "what ifs" that only torture you and never lead to anything positive. But every once in a while, the events of that night and the day after take over my brain and haunt me.

What if I was awake to receive those messages at 3 AM?
What if his roommate responded to me and told me what happened?
What if Blake was honest about the overdose?

Would everything be different now?
Would Blake have realized the gravity of his drug use?
Would he have gotten help and gone back to rehab?
Would it have worked this time around?
Would he be alive and healthy?
Would I still be able to see him and touch him and hold him right now?

I can't wrap this post up with a positive message about how I believe I can eventually stop thinking about all of this. But maybe that's not the point? I think this will always haunt me. How could it not? I know there is nothing anyone (or I) can do or say to make this better. It will always be horrific and there's no way around it.

But can I be at peace with it? I think so. This peace started with me not blaming myself, his roommate, or Blake. I realized pretty quickly that there would be no point in that. Pointing fingers and casting blame only leads to anger, resentment, and more pain. My heart is already heavy enough with sadness, I can't add all of those feelings to my load as well.

What happened, happened, as awful and unfair as it all seems. I will never be able to change the events of that night or the way it unfolded the day after. What I can do now is learn a lesson from it. For the rest of my life, I will ALWAYS inform the family of a person who is putting his or her life in danger, by their drug use, lack of eating, risky behavior, or otherwise. If I ever feel like I'm not close enough to the person to make that call, I will tell someone who is. If I ever feel like I'm not knowledgeable or strong enough to handle what they are going through, I will tell someone who is. It is through our silence and our inactivity that these problems quietly grow worse.

And maybe after you've told someone else, things still keep progressing in the wrong direction. That happens. But at the end of the day, what matters is that you can look inside yourself and be at peace with the fact that you did everything you could.

Hitting the Anger Stage

I think I've finally hit the anger stage.

I love Blake, but I kind of hate him right now.

Anytime I've been angry about Blake or his death before, it has only been because I was mad he never told me he was using because I would have done everything in my power to help him. That wasn't anger. What I feel now is anger.

Late last night I finally (for the first time since he died) looked up the symptoms of heroin use and the effects of abuse. Maybe I already knew these things on some level, but reading them all officially like that on a medical website was terrifying.

I always thought that since Blake never stole from me that he must have respected me too much to let his drug use directly effect me or our relationship. That's actually ridiculous that I thought that.

What about all of the times he drove me?
We could have easily crashed and gotten seriously injured or I could've died.

Did he ever share needles?
There are so many things he could have contracted...

What about when he was carrying drugs?
I could have been arrested for just being in the same car as him.

How could he continually put my life in danger like that? I know he had a disease and was sick and all of that, but what about me? What did I ever do to deserve having my life jeopardized on a daily basis without me even knowing? I feel like a complete idiot.

I went downstairs, woke my parents up, and got into bed with them. I started crying so hard it hurt.

I really hope that this anger phase passes soon because the majority of my progress depends on me being able forgive him and be at peace with what happened. After realizing all of those things he did to put my life at risk, I don't forgive him.

I am so consumed with anger right now.