My Brother was Murdered

In a year of arguably the most success of my entire career, I am burdened with a horrible weight on my shoulders. I can't speak about it without overwhelming, gut-wrenching grief. At any given moment, I am one memory, one word, one thought away from uncontrollable tears. I had know idea that sudden grief is physically uncontrollable with nightmares that jar me awake at all hours of the night. From what I'm told, this could last for a year or more. The only moment I feel normal is when I'm working, building my team, and executing on our mission. Why?

My brother was murdered on March 21st of this year. His name was Shaun but I called him Joe.

Joe was murdered 7 days before his 35th birthday and I was forced to plan his Celebration of Life on his birthday. At the time, he was living with me, and he had told me just before he died it was the only birthday he was afraid of. I could have never predicted what was looming in his future.

My baby brother was an addict. That poor baby. It hurts my soul to think about it. He had a disease called Addiction. I believe each of us know an addict. Loving an addict is hard and it is more like loving a porcupine. Between the stealing, lies, foul words, you never know when they will hug you or stab you.

In December of last year, an opportunity presented itself to me to save him with the ultimate cry for help, a failed suicide attempt. While risky, I knew I was at a place in my life to give him a chance. I worked with the good folks at a hospital in North Carolina to get him a 2 week medical detox - he was given the gift of a clean slate.

At the end of his stay, I went to pick him up. I was blessed to get 90 days home with him. I was able to get to know the sober version of him. He was so sweet. He just wanted to be accepted and to have purpose with love and without judgement.

My daughter was still doing virtual school and I was working. He would make us lunch and we would watch TV at night. For him, this was probably the most vulnerable time of his life. He had believed that he was bad due to his addiction. He believed it was his fault. I finally asked him when it started.

I was shocked at what he told me.... He was 14 years when he was handed his first OxyCotin by his stepdad.

The initial idea of this is shocking. What was that man thinking? But if you look back at the year - it was 1998. At that time, all FDA studies said that Oxy's were a safe, non-addictive mechanism for pain management.

No one knew what was coming. Oxy's hit the market in 1996 and here we are 25 years later still paying the price.

My stepdad had cancer and health insurance. They would send home bottles of 120 Oxy's at a time. 120?!?!?! It was enough to addict everyone around him. My stepdad beat cancer but never beat his addiction, dying from it many years later.

Looking at my poor baby brother, he literally never had a chance. It was taken from him at that very moment. He was 14 and he suffered with that addiction until he was 34. Twenty years of his life was stolen from him due to Purdue Pharma's lies. The entire time he was made the villain because he was sick then hustled by pain clinics with deceitful solutions like suboxone. I'll talk about that evil on another day.

So how was he murdered? Let me start with this analogy - if someone put cyanide in your coffee and you die, would you consider that murder? Even if you bought the coffee from a food truck? Ok. I sure hope we agree. If someone puts cyanide in your coffee and you don't die, is it still assault?

My baby brother and his sweet soul had a small relapse the week he died. I gave him hell for it to hold him accountable. He wanted to be better more than anything. To try to save himself, he went to Church where a good man named Sam with Changing Lives helped him through a medical emergency. We found out later it was his first overdose. He was released from the hospital - then returned to church where he found and attended an AA meeting. He was so proud of himself. He was making the right decisions.

My daughter and I spoke with him at 8:57PM. He was so excited that he had made the right decisions. He had job interviews lined up for the following week. He had HOPE. I told him I loved him 3 times so he knew I meant it. My baby Z told him she loved him.

At 9:19PM, I sent him a text. "Use your time wisely brother." He never read it.

I was with my bestie Jenna, who have known her for 20 years. While we talked about the joys and tragedies of life, he laid down and went to sleep, only to never wake up.

I got the call around 2PM the next day. I screamed. My body convulsed. There were many days I expected that call - but not that day. The detective told us that there were no drugs or alcohol in the room. His computer was out and his resume was on the bed. It was clear he was looking for work. We didn't know what happened. He was doing the right things.

It takes about 90 days to get back toxicology. I wish I didn't know that.

His official cause of death was an accidental overdose. In his system was Diazepam and Fentanyl. We all know what Fentanyl is. Diazepam is Valium. My baby brother thought he took a Valium. In his mind it was safe. Wrong to "relapse" yes, but not worthy of a death sentence. He wanted life.

On the day he died, the State of Maryland issued an Overdose Alert - warning of a deadly "batch" on the streets. I wish all states did that. The week my brother died, the morgue told me they had 4 others in the same week. With a big network, I personally know of at least 3 others in the same timeframe. To cope, I share a text group with other suffering siblings lost to Fentanyl. It's a different kind of pain, our siblings were supposed to get old with us.

2021 is on pace to be the deadliest year yet for Fentanyl related deaths. I have tremendous empathy for the COVID deaths and feel significant heartache for my friends who have lost loved ones. But our communities should know that Fentanyl deaths are on track to outpace COVID this year. Why isn't this being reported?

The news portrays overdose deaths as despair deaths. I have sent the news this information and they won't cover it. I have called my reps, no one wants to hear about it. Fentanyl deaths are not despair deaths. It is murder.

I am politely asking those of you in my network, can we get some data and news coverage on this? Who is profiting from this? Why isn't this being addressed?

Last but not least, when I think of cannabis's Schedule 1 status, and that there is still a debate over this, I'm disgusted. We have had a safe alternative for pain management since the beginning of time. Any local municipality, state authority, or federal government that continues to deny this yet allows opiates to continue to hit the market is only creating more addicts. The addicts will be forever cursed with a disease called Addiction. The most logical and easiest way to fix this is to stop creating addicts and that is done by making cannabis accessible.

Pictured above is my family cemetery. Joe is the second person I put here. My grandma put two sons here in 2004. I put her there in 2011. I put my baby brother there this year. I sat on her grave while I watched my brother Kenny and daughter fill Joe's hole. I have plans to buy all the plots surrounding it so that I have places for my people. I'm only 39. I wish I didn't know that I have to plan that.

That is the blessing and burden of the weight I carry on my shoulders.

Why is this on a business networking site? I believe everyone here has been impacted by the Opiate Endemic. I'm ready to talk about it openly and I'm inviting you on the journey to start calling a spade a spade. Fentanyl deaths are murder.

This is my story. Tell me yours.