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Left Behind

 

These are the stories of three individuals who have lost loved ones to opioids. The grief they share is unique because of the stigma attached to addiction. They hope that by sharing their stories they can help to reduce that stigma.

Yvonne

Yvonne Schallhorn is no stranger to the overwhelming grief that addiction can bring.

 

“I was upstairs by myself one night and I couldn't sleep. It was like four in the morning, the only thing that was here was my dogs and the cat…. I was in so much pain. I remember just screaming out to God, ‘What else is there for you to take from me? The only thing left for you to take is my life.’”

 

She says that losing her son Nick was overwhelming, to say the least.

 

Although she was spiritual before his death, she says that once he was gone she, “gave up on everything.”

 

“I just wanted to die, I didn't want to live anymore. There was such a big hole my heart.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE STIGMA OF ADDICTION AND YOUTH

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Yvonne lost Nick when he was 21, after years of drug use that eventually ended with fentanyl.

 

Nick started using drugs at the age of 13, but it was much different than your typical teenage experimentation.

 

Yvonne says that addiction took ahold of him immediately.

 

She believes that not taking addictive behaviour in youth seriously is a component of the stigma surrounding addiction.

 

“People don't think young kids like that [can] be addicts… People seem to think that you need time to grow into the behaviour, and I don’t think that’s true at all.  I think some people are predisposed, and once you cross over that line, it’s game over,” says Yvonne.

 

On several occasions she recalls being told to just ground him, spank him, or take him to counselling.

 

“It doesn't matter what you do. You could love them, you could hate them, you could yell at them, you could plead with them. You could do whatever, and nothing happens, and nothing helps,” says Yvonne.

 

Yvonne believes that society needs to toss the toxic misconceptions when it comes to addiction, including the belief that addiction is caused by poor parenting.

 

She says that for a long time she believed that she was, “just a bad parent.”

 

“There's many stigmas, and I think that we are in a time and place where we can start smashing the stigmas and adding some factual proof to [them],” she says.

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TAX DOLLARS, NO CHANGE

 

Yvonne believes that more needs to be done by the government, and that there is a lack of understanding by those that, “we hold in high regard” 一 including health care professionals.

 

Yvonne brought Nick to a treatment centre here in Calgary called, “Alberta Adolescent Recovery Centre” (AARC). She says that this centre treats the whole family unit, siblings and parents included and adds that, “most treatment facilities don’t do that.”

 

“Our Alberta government seems to think that 28 days is a wonder cure. They give you 28 days in a program, they do whatever they have to do, then they ship you back off to wherever you came from.”

 

She says that programs like this don’t offer a lasting solution.

 

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THOSE WHO HURT HAVE A MESSAGE

 

As Yvonne got to know other parents and families going through the same struggle, she learned that addiction doesn’t discriminate. Families can be picture perfect  — have a steady income and close relationships and yet still be affected by addiction.

 

Yvonne also believes that the families and loved ones who have been affected are key to changing the stigma around addiction.

 

‘People who hurt, they have a message.”

 

Reflecting on the day of Nick’s memorial service, Yvonne says, “It blew my mind when I saw my son laying there like that, when everything was all done. I remember phoning my mom saying I did everything I could. It’s over.”

 

Although at the beginning of her grieving process she struggled with her faith, Yvonne says that she has since found it again. “My journey has taught me, the more I become self-reliant, the darker my life got.”

 

Her advice to people who may be at the beginning of their own grieving process is simple.

 

“Let people love you.”

 

Yvonne feels it’s important for her to share her story, not only to help herself heal, but to help others who feel “lost and unable.”

 

“Everybody comes with a story, that's life, but not everybody comes with a story that can make change. That's the difference.”

Yvonne

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Yvonne Schallhorn’s son struggled with addiction from a young age and she wants to change the system that allowed her son to die.

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“It doesn't matter what you do. You could love them, you could hate them, you could yell at them, you could plead with them. You could do whatever, and nothing happens, and nothing helps,”
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"I remember phoning my mom saying I did everything I could. It's over.

Yvonne Schallhorn (above) lost her at the age of 21 from fentanyl. "Nick was that guy, that if you had a problem he would be the one to sit across from you and just chat it out." 

Yvonne (above) believes that more people need to create movement so the higher ups can gain a better understanding of what is happening. 

Kat

Kat​

Kat Wahamaa lost her son to accidental fentanyl poisoning and wants people to know that the deaths caused by the opioid crisis are more than just a statistic.

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When Kat Wahamaa’s son Joseph died in 2016 from accidental fentanyl poisoning, she struggled to regain her ground as an activist.

 

Kat has been using art as harm reduction since the 1980’s.

 

“The activist in me just couldn’t pull it together,” she says, reflecting on the grief she

felt during first six months following her son's death.

 

After her son’s passing, she decided to attend a public meeting about the opioid

crisis, hosted by the MLAs of her B.C. community, Maple Ridge, and other

surrounding areas.

 

What she saw and heard was so appalling that it reignited her sense of purpose as an activist.

 

“It wasn’t even a discourse that included any kind of facilitation or context… just people coming and ranting at microphones, saying misinformed, vitriolic things about people who use drugs,” she says. “The old hippy in me just wanted to have a love-in.”

 

Kat has since dedicated herself to spreading positive energy through quilt making saying, “this is my version of a love-in.”

 

She attends seminars and festivals with her quilt squares and art supplies, encouraging the public to share positive messages on them.

 

By using her art as a tool, Kat believes she can connect to even more people, regardless of whether or not they’ve experienced the crisis first-hand.

 

People who participate haven’t always lost a loved one to opioids, but they understand that there is a lot of negativity and misunderstanding towards the topic.

 

“This is a way to counter it with positive energy. Someone as young as two or three is capable of making a quilt square with positive energy. They don’t need to know all the ins-and-outs, or intellectualize anything, they can just do it. It allows the broadest breadth of people to participate.”

 

By reaching out to the public in her own way, Kat hopes to shed light on the fact that these deaths are more than just a statistic.

 

“We look at all these statistics and they are just big numbers... we don’t think that these are individuals, and [we don’t think about] the exponential effect that it has,” she says.

 

Kat believes at the end of the day, all this heartache connects people.

 

“This is our truth and reconciliation.. this is how we bring all of these traumas together, and we come together to heal.”

“We look at all these statistics and they are just big numbers... we don't think that these are individuals, and [we don't think about] the exponential effect that has." 

Kat Wahamaa (above) lost her son from fentanyl poisoning in 2016. By creating her quilts it allows people to remember those who were lost. 

Kayla

Kayla

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Kayla Tucker lost her significant other and the father of her child in November of 2017. Dan thought that what he was taking was heroin, but it turned out to be a toxic supply of fentanyl.

 

Dan struggled with addiction for many years, but after his brother died of a methadone overdose, he tried heroin for the first time.

 

“Dan told me that the grief was too much for him,” says Kayla, who lived with him and her daughter in Boston, Massachusetts, before he passed.

 

Kayla has since moved home to Calgary.

 

“I have my mom here. And my friends here understand and [they don’t] judge him for dying that way, or judge me for being so sad about it. It's been really helpful coming home,” she says.

 

Kayla also co-facilitates the support group GRASP (Grief Recovery After a Substance Passing), which is a bi-weekly meeting for families who have lost a loved one due to substance use.

 

Kayla says that through GRASP she has found comfort in knowing that all of the “deep, dark feelings,” that she experiences because of her loss are shared by other members.

 

“Just to hear that is like, ‘Okay it's not just me, and this isn't crazy.’ This is just what we are all dealing with now,” she says.

 

Kayla has experienced stigma firsthand, and she has lost many friends who didn’t understand that Dan’s struggle with addiction was not his choice.

 

She recalls people telling her that he was, “just a loser” and that she should simply break up with him.

 

But those judgements are far from the memories about Dan that Kayla holds onto.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After Dan’s passing, her experience with stigma continued as people would dismiss her grief simply because of the nature of his death.

 

“No one understood that he died, and that he was a person, and I loved him,” she says.

 

“I had nobody because all of my friends [and family] put me at a distance because I had stayed with him… I had no one to talk to that would actually understand,” Kayla explains.

 

This lack of understanding among her friends and family is how she became involved with GRASP, first attending it in Boston. The group has since become a very important part of her life.

 

Kayla says no one can prepare you for when someone close to you dies.

 

“Your world is turned upside down and it just stays like that forever,” she says.

 

At the end of the day, she says you just need to give yourself time to grieve.

 

“I remember my dad saying to me that you need to give yourself some grace, because you would not expect anybody else to just pick up and be okay in a month. You can’t expect yourself to do that. You just have to let yourself go through it, and just take the time, and be kind to yourself.”

After losing her partner, Kayla became co-facilitator of GRASP, a support group for people who have lost a loved one to addiction

“Your world is turned upside down, and it just stays like that forever."

Kayla Tucker (above) says that maybe if her partner Dan knew that what he was taking had fentanyl in it, he wouldn't have taken it in the first place. She says, "that shouldn't have happened to him."

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