I have great news. The heroin overdose epidemic is over! I know, I Googled it. The most recent story about it was in May.
At least that’s what the lack of news stories about it would have you believe. I guess the news cycle has cycled onto better things now that the people who bring you the news have whipped the populace into a narcan frenzy, equipped all sorts of people with narcan that will expire and be thrown away, or used incorrectly, or sit in a medicine cabinet somewhere waiting for the chance to do some good.
Sad news that you probably won’t hear anywhere but here-people are still dying from heroin overdoses. All the narcan in all the trunks of all the police cars in all the cities in all the world isn’t going to stop people from going off on their own to get high. It’s the way of the addict. Isolationism is the goal, and a good way to obtain it is at the end of a needle, or now that the dirt is more pure, through the nose.
The only people that I have ever brought back from an overdose were lucky enough to have been found by chance; a set of legs seen under a bathroom stall, a person slumped over the wheel, a man unconscious in a field, that kind of thing. The others? The smell of their dead body alerted neighbors, and the police were called, and they called us, and we would find them, sometimes with the needle still in their arm, alone, blue, and dead.
Doing heroin is not okay, not acceptable and absolutely deadly. Those who insist on getting high will come to an ugly end, either broke, diseased and lonely, or dead. There are no success stories of addiction, no shining light, no example of how it can be done. Some people recover, and great for them, many do not, and may they rest in peace. because the only peace they had while they were here came in little bags.