When I lost my brother, I never really processed what had happened. I was 18 years old and in love with life. I had great friends, a beautiful girlfriend, and I felt like I was on top of the world. Then I got a call at 12:00 pm on August 31, 2018, from my dad saying that my brother had died from an overdose and that I needed to come home. My heart skipped a beat, and I instantly froze.
My brother grew up a genius. He was energetic, talkative, and really smart. He read books faster than anyone I knew and remembered everything. He would teach some of our older family members history and politics when he was in high school. He was like a cat, smart but he did not give a f*ck about the rules. He often got into trouble, and he didn't make it easy on my parents growing up. Trouble at school in his early years turned into trouble with the police later on.
I never realized that this tragedy, one that touched me, my family, and all the lives my brother touched, gave me a responsibility to help this community for him.
He turned to drugs as an escape from reality, and unfortunately, that habit stuck. It eventually took his life at the age of 23.
I am doing this for my brother, and for the thousands of others losing their lives to drugs.
So please, if you can, donate. It can save lives and help improve so many people's lives, not only those dealing with drug problems, but also those dealing with mental health issues.
