I Hate Monday

Do I hate that Philip Hoffman died of a drug overdose? Not particularly. I hate that anyone should die of a drug overdose. Hoffman was incredibly talented. But in their own ways, so are the thousands of nameless addicts who die in obscurity every year, unnoticed by anyone but a few close friends and family. Each and every one of them was someone’s son or daughter, wife, father, brother, neighbor or friend. Every one of them had something valuable to contribute before their lives were overtaken by drugs.

It’s easy to condemn these deaths as self-inflicted. It’s rarely that simple. Many a drug addict got their start with legally and judiciously prescribed and necessary pain medications. Others did something foolish a single time in a moment of weakness, and the rest is history. (Yes, some of today’s drugs – crack, for one – can ensnare a user with just a single use.)

Anyone tempted by illicit or street drugs does well to consider the sheer power of even carefully prepared prescription drugs which may be taken in a tiny pill, of which well over 99% may be inert ingredients. Yet we expect those mere milligrams of medicine to have a good and powerful effect on our illness. It’s insanity to accept and ingest drugs from unknown sources prepared in unknown conditions, perhaps some squalid shack or trailer.

Addicts die every day without our knowledge. But every death of note, like this one, is a clear signal to avoid drug abuse. If you’re addicted, don’t be ashamed. Just get help. It could save your life.