On May 12, 2013 my younger sister Sophie died from a drug overdose from oxycontin.
She was 23 years old. I will never forget that morning because me and my family members lives changed forever.
One of the worst aspects of the pain due to her loss was she had so much going for her. She was an amazing dancer, genuinely cared for others, and smart too. Many times I saw her light up a room when she entered. It tortures me to think what she might have accomplished with her life.
Growing up in Southern California it is easy to feel the glitz and glamour emanating from Hollywood. Sophie often talked about living in Los Angeles and pursuing a career in the entertainment industry. Whether it was dancing, acting, or writing Sophie had a flair for it all and I am sure she would have been a huge success.
As far as I knew, Sophie had no prior history of drug use. Probably because she watched her older brother (me) crash and bungle my way through my early twenties. There was a seven year difference between us. I never talked to her about my experiences and I wish now that I had. I was embarrassed to tell her. She held me in such high regard. My drug use stemmed from a deference toward authority and I thought it was kept secret. It was naive of me to think that. I am sure Sophie overheard my parents talking about bailing me out of jail or how worried they were about me. Like I said Sophie was not stupid, she knew what was happening. I can remember Sophie chastising me for being immature and being a let down. That has now become my most precious memory of her.
Sophie moved to Los Angeles when she was 20 years old. It was a dream come true, to live in the big city with her family only an hour away. I remember her being so excited her first night in her apartment, and how nervous she was for her first audition. Sophie was strong, she was confident and I was excited to see her take flight.
Then Ben happened. My sister had boyfriends in the past. They came and went, nothing too serious as she made her way through her young life. From what I could tell from the conversations we had, she was aloof about falling in love.
I did not like Ben from the very beginning. He was 26 to my sisters 21, which in itself is not awful but, I also sensed a self destructive and egotistic nature in him. I do not know why Sophie had a heart for this person but love is a mystery.
About half way into my sister’s 22nd year she sustained a Grade III sprain in her ankle. For those who have never experienced a Grade III sprain, it put Sophie in excruciating pain and she was forced to be physically inactive as her ankle healed. The doctor prescribed her hydrocodone. This piqued my concern because I was all too aware of the danger of how easy it is to slip into an opiate addiction.
Her ankle healed. And as far as I knew I was just an overprotective brother being an alarmist hoping my sister did not fall into addiction. I asked her only once if she was off the pain meds. She told me she was. This haunts me to this day because I could not tell that she was lying. Perhaps I was blinded by my desire to believe her, or the space created by her growing up and living on her own made it to hard to see since we were not as close. I have had nothing but time since to reflect on how I could have behaved in certain moments, maybe Sophie would still be alive. How could her addiction go undetected by me!?
When I try to put the pieces together all I can assume is Ben was all too happy to enable her growing opiate addiction. I believe this because Ben nonchalantly asked me once if I had a painkiller to spare. He said he had a job interview and wanted to be relaxed for it. I was concerned. I asked Sophie later if maybe I had not understood the moment in the right context. Sophie said painkillers were apart of Ben’s life at one point but not any more. Did she lie to me? I will never know, and be tormented by this. If Ben was supplying painkillers from what I have now come to understand about addiction, not only did Sophie love Ben she now depended on him. Just what a boy like Ben wanted. Then Ben left. Their relationship failed and Sophie was devastated.
Looking back I wish I was more attentive to her during this time. She was dealing with heartbreak. I gave her a shoulder to cry on but I thought we all go through heartbreak. It makes us stronger, plus I did not like Ben anyway and was glad to see him go. This was shortly before Sophie’s 23rd birthday. 6 months later she died from an overdose on oxycontin, a brand name painkiller which main active ingredient is hydrocodone, the same substance she was taking to fight the pain of her injury.
The pain of her loss is never far away. It has been 3 years now but the pain does not subside, I just do not obsess over the loss as much. A picture or a memory of Sophie will cause all the pain to flood back. The only thing that helps is to try and turn the pain into something positive. I now regularly participate as a social activist advocating stronger regulations on prescription drugs, and helping others to understand addiction better.
Sophie was not a degenerate or bad person, or any of the words people use to describe drug users. She was a bright, intelligent wonderful person. All I hope is that my story serves to help someone who is going through a similar situation, or serve as a warning to those who might suspect a loved one is suffering from addiction.
-Andrew N.
Irvine, CA.