The Hijacking of a Brain

In the last months of Sam's life, he became more cynical and doubtful of the good that surrounded him. He had been such an open and nonjudgemental young man but his mind was changing. Meth made him paranoid and angry. There were nights that he would wake up freaking out at his dad's house. I worried that he may completely lose his mind and attack others. He was more and more willing to push the limits, regardless of the consequences.

Sam was very clear that he was not concerned about dying. He wasn't suicidal but he was also not intentionally trying to live. He also didn't seem to understand or even care how his death might affect us. That was the drugs. He began to think the world was a bad place. One he didn't belong in. He became irrational and even tried to provoke conflict amongst us.

He also became less loving and more angry at me towards the end. He resented my positive outlook on life. He still hugged me and told me he loved me and we still had deep and thought-provoking conversations but was quick to become annoyed with me. I know it was the drugs but it still hurt me deeply.

I had always been his warrior and there were many times that he relied and counted on me. These days, we would have our talks and then he would push me away. Ultimately, however, I know he loved me. To try to tell myself he didn't is petty and stupid. We have all loved and resisted showing it at the same time. It's called being human.

Sam also thought he was being followed. We tried to tell him that he wasn't and that the drugs were hijacking his mind but he didn't believe us. One day, just a few months ago, he came to my house in a very paranoid state. He looked from window to window, back and forth, back and forth. I tried to tell him it was the drugs but he wouldn't (and probably couldn't) listen. I reminded him that paranoia was just a symptom of his meth use.

Eventually he began to settle down, took a shower, and took a nap. When he woke up, we had a long conversation. We talked about his siblings and he felt so much shame. He felt horrible that he hadn't been there for them and he broke down and sobbed heavily while I held him. I have never seen him so vulnerable. My boy was still in there.

I told him that his siblings love him so much, they just want him to live. I reminded him how young they all are and how much time they still have together. I was wrong, time was growing so short by then. Terrance, Spencer, and Lauryn held no resentment towards Sam. They wanted him to be their brother, to be who he once was.

Later that night or the following night, he broke into my home while I wasn't there. He sent his dad and I goodbye texts. I screamed and nearly collapsed as I called 911. It felt like my world had instantly shattered. Ironically, when the real call came several months later, it was much less dramatic. Probably because I was alone in a hotel room and risked being arrested if I started freaking out in the middle of the night. Also, I didn't really believe it.

We have had to say goodbye to Sam in life form but we know his spirit is all around us. At first, I was sure he would reveal himself in sunsets and eagles. I have since realized that knowing Sam, he will also mess with us, because he already has.

There was the other night when we were asking Alexa how a giraffe sounds. We asked her a couple of other animals and then asked her to stop and play music. Her response "An eagle sounds like this..." followed by a whole host of other animals we didn't ask for. We could not get her to stop. Then, just yesterday, I was texting someone and suddenly, my phone was calling Sam's phone.

Sam's brain was taken from us but his spirit was not. In 2016, when he informed me he was using heroin, my greatest fear is that I would lose him to it. In the end, it was the meth that really changed him into someone he was not. We still saw glimpses of Sam but his reasoning and thinking were growing darker.

We are still waiting on his toxicology report to determined exactly what substances were in his body when he died. My heartbreaking hope is that it proves that he was very very high on multiple substances. Since he is already gone, the only reassurance I can give myself is that he didn't die in pain or scared as he lie there and froze.

What an ugly and horrible path my beautiful son's life took. What started as curiosity and lack of fear lead to complete dedication to a life so dark I can't even comprehend it. Throughout Sam's journey, his honesty has been staggering. Yes, he has lied during times of using, like everyone does. However, the honest and open conversations about his experiences, thoughts, and feelings are ones I will never forget. Because of all of the things he told us, we could only imagine the parts he didn't.

In the beginning, Sam was a brilliant mind, a deep thinker, and accepted everyone for who they were (although he would absolutely call someone out on their crap). In the end, he had little regard for his own life. He didn't want to be clean, he wanted to use. He didn't try to die but the last time we saw him he was sober, had a check to cash, and absolutely understood the risk of going back to the streets.

Unfortunately, the higher he got, the more normal his decisions seemed to him. Risk, safety, and consequences got blurred, and now he is gone forever.

My beautiful son so desperately wanted to want to be clean, he just couldn't.