Tomorrow marks three months since Trevor drew his last breath – all because someone, somewhere, thought lacing marijuana  with Fentanyl was a clever way to boost sales. The same weekend Trevor died, there were four people in the Sioux Falls area who also lost their lives to Fentanyl poisoning. Whether there’s a direct link between these cases, we may never know. Does the person who sold Trevor that deadly product know what they were involved in? I don’t think it was intentional but wanting to create that “higher high” so people will keep coming to you for the “good stuff” cost him his life. Do they even care? Was being involved people losing their lives enough to make them think twice about their current career choice? I don’t have these answers, and perhaps I never will. But I hope they are anxious. I hope they realize I won’t forget what they took from this family. I will keep asking questions and pushing for action and the truth for as long as I live.

I wish I could say the police and narcotic detectives have been supportive and seeking answers but I don’t think that is true. There was no sign that Trevor knew he was using Fentanyl. Not on his body, at the scene or in his communications. The detective suggested it may have been a “one off” and maybe he tried it just one time. I will never believe this to be true. We talked about the dangers of these many times.  He was looking forward to so many things. He had a job he liked. We just bought our flight, hotel and NFL tickets for the home opener of the Pittsburgh Steelers. He was talking about what to get his nephew for his first birthday. He had plans and he was in a good place though that was not always the case. There were times his depression and anxiety would overwhelm him, leaving him feeling hopeless and feeling he had no worth. Trevor battled depression and anxiety for most of his life. Once he was living on his own and old enough to drink, he began the common practice of self-medicating. His drinking habits soon became alarming – not because he drank every day, but because he engaged in dangerous binge drinking that nearly claimed his life more than once. My attempts to step in and help created significant tension between us. Trevor saw my concern as an attack on his freedom, and he clung to alcohol as his escape – a way to feel numb and many times, as a way to “fit in”. There were moments when I feared this conflict would drive us apart for good, but all I wanted is for my boy to survive, to thrive.

For years , alcohol was a significant problem until he replaced it with another addiction. He quit drinking completely and began using marijuana instead. Jeff and I resisted this change but eventually we noticed genuine improvements. His physical health and moods were better, he stayed out of the ICU teetering on death by alcohol poisoning. He became a vocal advocate for the legalization of marijuana in South Dakota. It has failed twice on the ballot. We looked at getting him a medical card for legal use but in South Dakota, the only mental health diagnosis that is recognized as a qualifying condition is PTSD. Along the way, we began to come to terms with the fact that he would continue to use it. This meant needing to purchase off the black market instead of a dispensary where it was regulated. Although I did not agree with it, I convinced myself that marijuana was a safer choice than alcohol. After all, alcohol is deadly. Over 178,000 Americans die from alcohol related deaths annually. I told myself that people don’t die from using marijuana. I don’t believe that anymore because my son is gone and our lives will never be the same again.