Petrina J. Roudebush / Roundup
“Baby, I have profound love for you.”
Every time I think about the night he said those words to me, I start to cry.
Brandon had the most beautiful mind. Every word that escaped his mouth was insightful, honest and genuine. He was such a complex individual who not many people truly understood. But I did, and that is what made me fall for him so deeply.
He was almost six feet tall with red-brown hair, freckles and the most beautiful soul-piercing hazel eyes. His talents matched his mind. Brandon was an amazing musician. He taught himself to play guitar and even toured the United States with one of his bands, A Heartwell Ending, and played the Vans Warped Tour a few years ago.
When Brandon and I first started dating, I was not aware of the full extent of his drug use. He had struggled with his addiction to heroin for close to three years. It was definitely time for him to check into drug rehab, in order to help get his life back on track,
I tried to help him take away all the pain he felt, but in reality, his addiction was stronger than our love.
Drugs had become a way for him to escape the pain in his life. He would have done anything to alter his perception of reality, to find something greater in life than what he had experienced. All he wanted to do was run away from his problems.
Polydrug use is the taking of more than one drug to enhance or counteract the effects of another drug. It also happens when the user’s preferred drug is unavailable, so they use a different or closely available drug.
Brandon was a polydrug user. He often used more than one drug at a time, and when he could not get a certain substance he would use anything he could get his hands on.
From having felt love before, I knew the feelings I had for Brandon were real. He was not just one of the tens of thousands of people who die each year from drug overdoses. He was everything to me.
Then, one night five months ago, I received a phone call that changed my life. Brandon’s close family friend told me he died of a heroin overdose. My worst fear had come true. I was speechless and consumed with feelings of panic and anxiety.
On the night of Nov. 13, 2008, he was at a friend’s house. They had been strung out on ecstasy and Temazepam, a sleep aid, for two days. But they wanted something stronger, heroin — or its well-known street name, “black.”
His friend shot up first and almost immediately blacked out because of the combination of heroin and the recent withdrawal of Soboxin, an opiate blocker. When he regained consciousness an hour later, he found Brandon in the corner of the room with a syringe in his arm.
Brandon was pronounced dead on arrival at Lakewood Regional Medical Center. The drug combination of both uppers and downers caused Brandon’s heart to stop.
I decided to drive to Lakewood that night to say goodbye to the love of my life.
Once I arrived at the hospital, all the fear and panic rushed throughout my body and all I wanted to do was run away. Everything felt like a nightmare and all I wanted to do was wake up in his arms again.
I had lost everything in my life that seemed so promising.
The depression I felt after his death was debilitating. I wanted to end my life and forget all the pain I was experiencing. But I knew Brandon would not want that for me. He knew I was strong enough to overcome the depression.
Though I am still grieving, knowing that he is not here and how alone he felt, the sadness is somehow different. The more I thought about life, the more I wanted to be here.
Drugs have impacted my life in a negative way and I wish for no one to experience the pain that I have. Substance abuse is not the answer that many individuals search for to solve their problems. It is not worth the temporary satisfaction, and it ultimately causes more anxiety and turmoil than pleasure.
I want to keep his memory alive and share his impact on my life with the world.
Brandon taught me to love myself for who I am and to appreciate each day, because you never know what the future will bring.
Brandon, 22, a heroin drug addict of three years prepares a vein in his left arm while sitting on a pull out couch in his living room in Bellflower, Calif Nov. 1, 2008. (Petrina J. Roudebush / Roundup)
