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

Like many, Jimmy refused to admit he had a problem. Unfortunately, his failure to do so, cost him his life. Yet, for 39 years, he brought happiness to his family and friends. He will never be forgotten.

Struggled with addiction the last 3 years

It started early, and after many interventions and treatments and love, he still succumbed to its powerful desire.

Ronnie endured a lot of pain early on in his life. His struggle with addiction began at a very young age. Ronnie wanted to be free from addiction, he went to several treatment centers for help and finished both long and short term programs. He was even the director of Bridge to Life ministry where he and his former wife helped countless people overcome addiction. When pressures in his life became too great, whether it was from work or his social life, he would relapse.

She struggled with food and sugar addiction from childhood. When starting college she got a prescription for adderal. When she stopped college she started taking speed and got addicted but went to rehab. Had several years clean. Then she moved in with her boyfriend and started getting migraines and depression so the cycle of multiple medications started, and when she hurt her back at work the addiction to pain meds started. She went to rehab for that and seemed better but anxiety started and the xanax addiction began. She had been in 12 step recovery but was ashamed to admit that xanax was controlling her life. The shame and guilt was overwhelming and the depression worsened so more pills were prescribed. She overdosed on 60 Lamotrigine 150 mg, 30 Seroquel 400 mg, and 40 Alprazolam (xanax) 2 mg.

His struggle lasted for about five years. The first three he hid very well. The last two years he struggled. He overdosed several times (5 maybe). He stayed clean from October 2015 to January 2016. In that short amount of time he seemed happier and full of life again.

10 years. He battled the same story like everyone else. Jail, rehab, back to jail, and then the inevitable happened.

She was no longer the same person. The heroine had taken over. She stole, lied, neglected her kids, or wouldn't come home. She thought her family hated her but that wasn't true.

Jameson struggled for over 7 years and was in and out of rehabs and detox centers. He tried really hard to get clean but in the end the struggle just became too much for him to conquer. His life of just 22 years cut short by a disease that affects so many across this country. Many have called it an epidemic yet few people really know or understand what is really going on.

Trisha started off a bit wild in junior high with drinking. And she was just such a people person she just wanted to be on the go, doing something all the time. I don't know when she turned to hard drugs, but in the last few years she had lost her children and will to go on. And I, as her mother, am taking some responsibility for not having a very lovely home life when she was little. No drugs or alcohol really, but just lots of fighting in the home.

Steven fought hard against his demons. When he finally asked for help, he was determined to get well. He spent three months in a rehab facility in Utah, far from friends and family. He came home and continued his treatment, attended meetings everyday, worked hard to stick to his post-rehab plan, reconnected with friends, began developing an expertise in A/V production, spent time with his family daily, and made us all so proud of him. He was over 90 days sober when he died of an accidental overdose.

His struggle with addiction was so intense I don't really know if he understood it and I know the deeper he got into it he didn't feel good about himself. When he was retired from the Melbourne Police Department as a police officer I don't think he felt like he had a purpose. Even though he was a father, sometimes that's just not enough for a lot of us. We had a career our whole life and all of a sudden it's taken from you.

He was addicted to crack cocaine; had given it up and struggled to stay clean for the last six years of his life.

My father was an alcoholic who drank to numb his pain. He had a very difficult childhood that he never recovered from, and self medicating was his downfall. He wanted to end his struggle with addiction, but on his own terms, which was a recipe for disaster.

His suicide was brutal. We had made the decision to "cut him off" after repeated attempts to get him to treatment and his avid refusal to do so. He had been on his last "binge" for approximately 1.5 years (normal binges were 4-5 days with 2 to 5 in between). He called me on a Friday and asked me to pick him up the next day so he could look for a new place to live (he was living in a motel at the time) and that he was going to get help and repair his shattered life. He told me that he loved me and how proud he was of me. About 5 minutes later, he called and said to change the day to Sunday, it would work better for him.

When I arrived at his motel room Sunday morning (28 years ago, exactly, 12/18/1988), I found him dead on his couch from self inflicted cuts to his wrists. There was blood everywhere. I was 16 at the time and it took me many, many years to recover from this (in fact, I probably still haven't and never completely will). There was no note. There was no indication that he was suicidal (reflecting on it many years later, of course he was). I was left feeling as though he set me up to find this brutal scene out of some sort of sadistic revenge for abandoning him, and the guilt plagued me for years. I now know, as a 44 year old woman, that this scenario that played in my young, still developing mind for many years, was most likely not true, and it was his disease that got the better of him. He was extremely depressed and suffering traumatically from this disease, and he simply came to the conclusion that it was the only way out for him. Although part of me wants to believe that it was a cry for help and he didn't actually intend to die from the attempt - that he simply wanted me to find him that way as a desperate plea for allowing him back into my life (the diseased mind not only manipulates others but the inflicted as well) - the logical part of me knows that his brain was critically injured from such abusive drinking for such a prolonged period of time and he wasn't thinking rationally - he hadn't for years - and that he didn't actually set me up to find him; it probably didn't occur to him who would find him. I believe in my heart that if he knew what it actually did to my mind and soul, and the PTSD that has plagued me ever since, he would never have done that. He loved me too much for that, and would never want to cause one single day of pain in my life, let alone decades.

I didn't talk about his suicide for many years. I am embarrassed to say that I was embarrassed that I had a parent that committed suicide. Like it would reflect upon me; like I was a bad daughter or something and people would not be able to look at me or treat me the same after finding out. I didn't want to present myself as having a 'victim reality'. I also didn't speak of his alcoholism, as I was always afraid that people would assume that, I too, must suffer the same affliction as there is a known genetic factor in addictive diseases. Additionally, I had a very chaotic childhood filled with ups and downs, being disappointed more that not, and being forced to "hide" my dad's disease. I now know that the only way to heal and to continue to heal (it will be a lifelong effort), is to talk openly about addiction and suicide and hope to reach at least one person on my journey through life; be present and make them aware that there IS hope, there IS help, there are judgement free zones FULL of people dedicated to healing the mind, body, and spirit of someone suffering so immensely from this horrible disease; no matter the drug(s) of choice, past behaviors or choices and past recovery attempts that may have failed. There is a way out, and there are people that love you that will hold your hand through your journey called recovery - you may have burned some bridges, but certainly not all of them. But if you have, you WILL find someone (possibly in a recovery program) that will grab your hand and never let go - because YOU and YOUR life MATTER! And can be wonderful, and you CAN feel joy and hope again.

If you have a loved one that is suffering from addiction disease, BE PRESENT, BE PERSISTENT, UTILIZE COMMUNITY ASSISTANCE and PRIVATE NON-PROFIT ORGANIZATIONS to help direct them on the winding road to healing themselves as a WHOLE. It won't be easy; it'll be ugly and brutal at times. But compared to the option of losing them and living with the "what if's" for the rest of your life, EVERY step of the way will be worth it.

My dad never got to see me in my prom dress, graduate from high school or nursing school, walk me down the aisle, be present for my six children or my brothers three children, and to feel the joy of grandparenthood. He didn't get to grow old with my mom, and left her alone and missing him desperately for the remainder of her journey through life. Addiction robbed him of all of this and robbed us of him.

In my line of work, I screen very ill patients for suicidal ideation and intention and provide intervention if needed. These are not people with addictive diseases (for mostly all cases I deal with), but I still feel like I am making a difference in people's lives when I am able to identify someone with suicidal ideation and possible intent and connect them with the resources they need to begin to heal their soul. My advice? Become familiar with the signs of suicidal tendencies and familiarize yourself with the resources in your area. You may just save a life.