The National Addiction Memorial honors the loved ones we’ve lost.

Matt was extraordinary…and so it goes….

He loved anything that made him move fast and found peace cruising on a long board or dropping in on a snowy mountain.

He watched off the wall movies and left the subtitles on because he said it made him pay attention.

He wiped noses and tied shoes for the love of teaching art.

He connected with all creatures, big and small, especially four legged ones.

He said, “yes sir” and “yes ma’am” and gave respect to everyone who crossed his path.

He juggled oranges and could walk on his hands.

He loved to discover new words and challenged us to figure out the definitions.

He diced an onion in under a minute.

He persevered and became a second degree black belt in martial arts.

He conquered his fear of performing before crowds and grew to love strumming his guitar for anyone who wanted to listen.

He missed a lot of planes yet always managed to get to where he was going.

He worked on sculpting an Aetosaur that is permanently on display at Appalachian State.

He let a spider take up residence in the corner of his room simply because he didn’t mind sharing the space.

He believed it when he was told by his mom at the age of 7 that he ran so fast his feet left the ground.

Underneath his many layers, Matt struggled with anxiety and depression. He turned towards drugs and alcohol to ease his pain. His personal battles led him searching for a higher high until his very last day when heroin finally won. Matt conquered many things. Addiction wasn’t one of them. We are hoping by sharing Matt’s story, we contribute to the end of the stigma surrounding addiction and help people realize that addiction isn’t a choice, it’s a disease.

We are heartbroken, yet grateful for the 24 years we spent together. We take comfort in knowing one day we will meet again. He wouldn’t want his addiction to define who he was because he was so much more than that.

Matt was a dreamer, a teacher, a poet, an artist, a friend, a son, a grandson, a nephew, a cousin, a brother. He was ours and we were his.

Selena Bologna had the biggest heart and smile. Selena was a daughter, a sister, and a good friend. She loved deeply and was a very giving person. She struggled with drug addiction from the time she was a teenager until she was 26 and it took her life. Selena started out using drugs recreationally but after some time it turned into a lifestyle that she couldn't get out of. Things really took a turn for the worst when Selena was sent to jail for a DUI. Instead of jail helping her, she was introduced to fentanyl. Selena needed help and never received the appropriate treatment. This addiction took Selena's life and replaced it with broken hearts. Selena was so full of life and potential and her life was taken too soon. Selena should be remembered for her fire spirit, her boisterous laugh, and her giving soul. Addiction is a silent killer and it needs to be talked about. We are hoping that Selena's memorial and story will help save another family from having to go through this heartbreak. Rest in Peace, Selena Francesca Bologna (December 6, 1993- May 11, 2020)

My beloved son, lost way too soon to addiction. Miss him dearly.

A love letter to my Elizabeth ....

My darling baby girl
My Life’s light
My Life’s Love
My sweet and so very troubled daughter

Honey...you always hated the dark. Remember all the times I would lay next to until you fell asleep. My sweet Lizzy it’s not dark any more.
Honey...can you see the light? Mommy wants you to follow the light
You, see It’s ok to leave this earthly world now
Lizzy...Do you see Heaven? You do don’t you, awww honey it’s time to run through the clouds and sit with the Angels

And honey when you get there, I just know...
Roxy your sweet pup will be waiting to jump in your lap again
Grandma and Grandpa are gonna wrap their arms around you, and smother you with kisses. With them you will be safe for all eternity.
Uncle Dan is waiting too. He can’t wait to entertain you again with his Donald Duck imitations
Sweet cousin Mike wants a hug too...and you know once he starts hugging he can’t stop
And all of your relatives that you never got to meet during your earthly visit- are waiting to embrace and care for you now
See why is is ok to follow the light Elizabeth...because all those times you felt all alone while you were here are no longer. You will never be alone again my precious baby girl

Elizabeth, you are free now ...
No more addiction
No more drugs
No more demons

My Sweet Angel
You are safe now
Our Savior, knew it was time to save you and He did
He knew you tried. Just like we knew you did too
He knew you wanted to be free from the addiction that consumed your life for so long, exhausted from all the years of trying so hard, but never succeeding
He knew you were so very tired
He knew it was time to bring you home and save you from a life that you could no longer navigate on your own
Home, free from all the demons of addiction that haunted you on your earthly stay

So tonight, Elizabeth, when your mom looks to the starry skies above
I will view them as heavenly openings for you to shine down on me and Nug
And in those moments, we will see you with Roxy...as you always wanted to be, happy and free from addiction

Love mom

Kevin Michael Simon 3/11/1992 – 1/29/2016

Kevin was a kind and gentle soul who loved his family, his dog, his friends, and his music.

We were caught completely off guard. He didn’t look like what we thought someone suffering
from substance use disorder would look like. He graduated from college, came to all our family
functions, and maintained lifelong friendships.

He also suffered from anxiety and he discovered that heroin made him feel ‘normal’.
We will forever miss our beautiful boy

David was a kind and loving young man. He was adopted as an infant by Jeff and Madelene Myers and raised in Howell, NJ. He had a great group of friends and loved skateboarding and especially gaming.

He dabbled with marijuana from a young age and this ultimately led to heroin. He fought so long and hard to get sober and stay sober but the addiction grabbed him back. He lost his fight yesterday due to an accidental overdose.

We hope that by supporting your organization, we can save just one "David" from the ravages of addiction. He would want that.

My dad was funny, adventure seeking, talented, and always let us know how much he loved us. He was fascinated with the moon and the stars. He enjoyed skydiving, fishing, racing jet skis when he was younger, and riding quads. He was full of life and had so much intuition. He was a fighter, and never wanted his addiction to define who he was, because he was so much more than that. He never let us forget how important we were and that whatever we wanted to do in this life, we could. He meant the world to all of us.

My son was an only child. He had this sparkle in his eye and everyone wanted to be around him from the time he was born. In the summers there would be as many as 13 kids a day at our house. He had a heart of gold and would help anyone. He stuck up for the kids that were bullied and was full of jokes that made everyone laugh. He was my best friend. I had him when I was 17 so we kind of grew up together. We would ride bicycles for 12 miles or go camping on our weekends. He would go to the skating rink with his dad on their weekends. At 15 he worked three jobs to get a quad he wanted because I couldn't afford it. He graduated from technical school with a license that only he received. He was the only one to match the paint colors; he was color blind. About that time he started experimenting and since he was a teenager and one thing would lead to something stronger he ended up addicted. He also became a father. He told me once that when he left this earth he wanted to leave something good on it. It was ironic because I had always said the same of him. They say waiting for the phone call is the hardest part...at that time I thought they were right. His drug of choice was Opana which is Oxy and Morphine mixed but with plastic mixed through to stop people from misusing it. On February 2, 2013, RJ was taken to the hospital with multi-system organ failure. I had to fight for his life as much as he did. Withdrawal would not remove the plastic. Friends helped me find two other cases and I located a CDC case which had happened in Tennessee the previous year in which plasmapheresis was the only thing that might help. I fought until they did it. He was in for 26 days and nearly died. We left the hospital 26 days after he entered but he needed kidney dialysis. He was weak, had no control of his bodily functions, and had some brain damage from being without oxygen but we worked on it. He slid down the stairs one day and there was a "pop". The plastic that was left in his kidneys came free and he didn't need dialysis anymore. He was back to himself just weaker and sober. He stayed that way for 5.5 months until he was around his old crowd. They got high that night; his heart couldn't take it. I woke up like a shot at 3:32 am. The coroner said that was about the time he passed away. That was the worst call I ever got; my ex-husband telling me my son was dead. He was the best part of me; it died that day too.

My mommy was the most amazing person I have ever met. She would help anyone out, she would give the shirt off her back. She and my stepfather worked construction, building big houses in East TN. My stepfather was the only father I had, so I called him Daddy. Daddy fell off a 3 story house and landed on his feet. He was in a lot of pain and had go to a doctor. That's how it started. Doctors gave him oxycontin 80s. And their struggle began when someone introduced them to needles. The addiction got 100x worse. We lost our brand new double wide. Me and my sister had move into my grandma's. But when mom and dad would come get us to stay with them, my sis wouldn't go. I told my parents I was miserable. Not even a week later I came home from school to see a single wide in our yard. My parents were junkies and I mean hard core junkies. My mom could do 1,000 mg of morphine (5 200 mg pills) in one shot and not die but still be sick. One of their closest friends said he had seen my dad hit my mom with 7 200mg pills and she told him ok, I'm not sick, give me more so now I can feel it please. And he did. Throughout their addiction they somehow managed to be great parents. I always had what I wanted and needed, the bills were always paid, food to eat. They were the strongest people I knew then and they are the strongest people I know now... But the hustle game got them penned and sent down state to do a bid. When they got out they separated. My mom did well for awhile, but old hurts (her baby sister's death) got to her and she started on drugs again. Then her mother died and she was lost. She bonded to my son but I knew somewhere deep down she was ready to go see her family.

When the bottom is not good ENOUGH.

My beautiful girl whose love meant the world to me, so much more than I understood until now, made a terrible choice many years ago. The reasons for which I’ll never understand. That choice led her to a life of addiction and pain.

So long to suffer. So deeply to fall into despair in a life so short. How many beautiful daughters and sons will it take for us to say ENOUGH?

The number of lost lives is staggering in itself, but also consider the devastation left in the wake of their addiction. The toll of sorrow and despair is enormous. In the end all we’re left with is pain that leaves a bottomless hole in our heart.

Jen fought through 10 years of recycled treatments. She was told we can’t help until she is ready. The answer will come when she reaches her bottom. Really? Would that course be acceptable to any other patient or family with any other disease?

The way to beat this is to fall as close to death as you can over and over again. Each time ripping the loved ones from your side as they can’t stand the pain themselves. Till there’s no one but you, alone at your bottom, left to die.

It has to change. Shatterproof sparks a new hope of a realistic understanding. Please take the time to listen and support in any way that you can. The addicted all have families that will continue to suffer until we all say ENOUGH.

My brother Russ was a great person. He was kind to everyone and would drop everything to help someone. He was a wonderful friend, son, and uncle. He loved boating, fishing, playing the accordion, and being around people.

His struggles started early in his teens with alcohol. My parents took him to counseling, tried "tough love", etc. He was diagnosed in his twenties with bipolar disorder but his doctor just gave him meds and no direction to seek counseling to learn coping skills, so he began to drink more until that wasn't working.

I knew he smoked pot on occasion but it wasn't until after his death and autopsy that I found out he was using opioids. Apparently my parents and I were in the dark as many of his friends knew but no one said anything to us. He was such a high functioning addict we never knew. He worked his whole life, owned his own house, paid his bills, etc.

I always thought he just struggled with alcoholism and would research rehab places for him that took his insurance and show him. Most of the time he would get pissed at me and say I was just no fun, but one time he told me "what would I do if I went there and wasn't me anymore, I'm the life of the party, I'd lose all my friends." That broke my heart.

The last conversation I had with him was a few days before he died, and he sounded really tired. I asked him if anything was wrong and he said that I worry too much. Then he was gone.

I can't imagine the daily struggle he went through, to not only deal with a mental illness but several addictions as well as the fear and shame that go with them. I am glad he is finally at peace but I miss him dearly.

Please if you know someone who is in trouble with addiction, say something. Yes they may hate you, but it's the right thing to do.

My sweet Charles was a such a kind, outgoing, caring young man. He left behind two beautiful babies when he passed. He’d struggled with addiction for several years but had been working on getting clean. He tried so hard to fight the demons that had him chained in the dungeon of addiction. I watched my baby fight so hard to beat it. He would do great until one of his so-called friends would call or message him saying they had the devil's folds and, as all addicts know, when you first start down this recovery road it’s not too bad till you hear of someone personally having it and they’ll bring you some and you pay them later or whatever the case is at the time. My sweet boy had a rough life growing up and I blame myself everyday for him becoming an addict because I’m one, but I’ve been on this road to recovery for three years now and I was trying to help him walk it with me. I always thought to myself how great it would be if we could walk this road together as we did in 2013, when we both got our GED and walked the graduation stage together, that this would be another great accomplishment that we could concur together. But my dreams of that were shattered into a million pieces. I struggle everyday to stay clean. It's so much harder now because I’d love nothing more than to go get it and forget I was alive for a while. This pain is indescribable and the grieving never ends. I cry everyday. I beg for him to come back, but I know I’ll never be that blessed. But I push through for his babies, because I know he’d want me to make sure they live the happiest life possible, and that they know he loves them very much, and he’s always with them no matter what and they can talk to him. So as long as I’m alive my baby's name will remain heard. His story will be repeated every chance I get and his babies will know what a wonderful daddy they had and that he went to be with Jesus because Jesus needed a special angel just for them, and he knew their daddy was the only one that could watch them and protect them the way they need to be protected. I know this is all over the place but so is my mind. I struggle to get everything out in words nowadays so please excuse the wording. I hope everyone can make sense of what I’m trying to say. I pray for everyone who has lost a loved one or child, for there's no worse pain in the world that’ll ever compare to losing a child. Thanks for reading my sweet boy short story. May god touch and bless us all xoxo

I refuse to let your death be in vain and I will not allow the monsters who sell this poison to people who have a sickness be able to hide in the dark and continue to kill off more of my family, friends and neighbors while I stand by quietly and say nothing for fear of being shamed or judged... Because in doing so we allow it too continue and help them to exist and to be able to hide in the shadows... When we share our stories we bring this subject into the light ...and without our voices there will be no change ......It's a sickness, not a shame ....
My bother would give a stranger he never met the shirt from off his back ....and no matter what his faults or mine were ....it never changed the love we had for each other, and if the subject had been discussed along time ago u wouldn't be reading this post.

I grew up with her and her family in Lexington, KY. We were sisters not in blood but in heart. Losing her has been painful and remembering her I will do till I'm gone. She lost her life to heroin. She is missed and loved by her family and her children Ray, Keneatha, Brittany and Kayla.. They miss her dearly.. Her absence in their lives is heart breaking.. Her sister Lisa is lost without her.. But she will never be forgotten and she left us way too early.. RIP my sister, we love you and miss you so very much..

Teresa and I were married for 17 years. She was a sweet, innocent spirit who struggled with addiction throughout her life in addition to bi-polar disorder. As her disease progressed she got more desperate and was institutionalized over and over again, each time receiving inadequate care essentially for detox only. In the summer of 2019 I attempted to get her long-term treatment in a substance abuse program that I worked in, however, they refused to take her without explanation although I had been a therapist there for 12 years. While this angered me it devastated her, and she continued to spiral further out of control until I could find placement. During the interim she had to be placed back in a psychiatric hospital for stabilization. She was alienated from her family and had me and our little dog Sweetness for support. However, as much as I tried I couldn't fill the void she felt from the abandonment of her family. Her last day she said that her peers in treatment felt she deserved Another Chance. I always felt like she deserved one and attempted time and again to give it to her. I feel like the system failed her and left her disease to progress for no reason, setting her up to die. As her self esteem was already so low, she never recovered from the rejection of not being accepted into treatment at a place I spent 10 to 12 hours a day working. She died one day after returning home from treatment due to an accidental drug overdose, a combination of prescribed medications and alcohol. She was 54. I resigned the day she died.

He was a caring, genuine, hard working man. He was a son, a brother, an uncle, a friend and much more to many people. He is deeply missed.

Son, brother, father, nephew, uncle, true friend, kind soul, biggest heart. Sweetheart. I will love you more than forever!

Jay was my best friend. He was struggling with addiction but, like us all, we don’t show our struggles. He was a great friend, a great father, and a caring person. He won’t be forgotten, along with so many others of my friends I lost. Everyone talks about corona, but this epidemic has claimed more lives than covid19 in America, but yet our government did nothing to help until they realized how bad it was, then started funding. By that time the damage was done!

My Dad was the strongest man I know. He was a union electrician for over 30 yrs till he fell 14 feet when his safety harness broke and would never recover and evidently turned to drugs and alcohol to ease his pain and stress of not being able to support his family as he wanted to. He got tired of all the run arounds with drs to get medication to help him, and his injury evidently caused him to develop and suffer from mental illness as well. And it seemed to be just a never ending merry go round of nightmares for him and his loved ones. And he ended up over medicating and suffered a heart attack in his sleep. It was the WORST AND SADDEST DAY OF MY LIFE. But I have to stay strong for him. And to know he is finally at peace and isn't in pain anymore eases my mind.... FOREVER LOVED AND MISSED UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN. YOUR GRASSHOPPER, MELISSA. REST EASY, DADDY. I LOVE YOU 😘⚡R.D.E.Sr.⚡
⚡06*07*1959-01*07*2011⚡

Lucas, my adored boy, my greatest gift, my greatest heartache. Born with astute curiosity and a rare combination of strengths, he was also confronted by an undiagnosed physical ailment that led to 7 hours of surgery when he was shy of his 4th birthday. Unbeknownst to most as he was way ahead in the charts and physically tall, active and strong, we also wondered what all of the physical intervention and trauma left on his young mind and heart. To boot, opioids were part of his treatment during his hospital visits and surgery..... As Luc developed, his academic, artistic and athletic abilities developed just as quickly. By 10th grade, Lucas was an all-county soccer player, on varsity basketball and went on to play in the Jewish Olympic basketball tournament. He was named "Little Agassi" by tennis instructors, played the piano, and on and on. But quietly I watched a young man struggle with his identity, question his worthiness and underestimate his enormous value. Smoking pot took all that anxiety, fear and self degradation away, however temporarily. As he prepared for college, my fear grew as my heart and mind knew we were headed for trouble. What we shared was profound and true and real, a great love....and equal to that was the worry, the confusion, the signs. After four treatment facilities and relapses, I watched in disbelief. Lucas was filled with heart and kindness and compassion, often running to save, support, and lend a hand to others. Sadly, he was unable to give that to himself. My only thought was how can I save my beloved child? I could not, no matter how hard I tried. On December 19, 2016, I reached out to the Santa Monica police to check on Lucas as he had not responded to my text, quite unusual. That was the day my life changed forever. I am heartbroken. I miss everything about him; his giggle, his sweetness, his silliness, his affection, his attention, his determination, his hope, his wishes, his dreams, being his Mom (my greatest joy)....except the addiction. I pray Lucas is surrounding by light, at peace and without pain, holding our two pups in his arms and watching over me. I LOVE you Lucas. Forever your Mom.