How It Began

One story. One loss. One decision to do something with it.

My high-school year I got my girlfriend of 3 years pregnant. As someone who believed in God, had reservations about the morality surrounding abortion, and a belief that I would give this child all the love in the world I talked her into keeping the child, getting married, and thought things were going to work out.

Three years later we divorced due to my immaturity, bad choices, and a power struggle between her and I that I didn't see an end to. My immaturity and bad choices continued throughout my 20's and even into my 30's. These choices affected my ability to be the parent I wanted to be and my son deserved.

In his teens he quickly fell into pot and alcohol. I have always felt that my shortcomings as a parent had a significant role in his emotional need for escape. That need to escape grew past pot and alcohol and he started smoking herione in his late teens. At age 21 after months of sobriety he relapsed and was one of about 6 or so people that died that week in the Rockford IL. area from fentanyl contaminated drugs.

10 days before he died ( while he had been sober for months) he shared with me a rap song (he was into rap and wrote rap songs on the regular) about his life and struggle with substances. His song ended on a happy and hopeful note. He said to me "I think it could be done the way it is, but I have a feeling there is more to it!, I just haven't lived it yet". 10 days later he was gone. The life not lived, the ending he wanted to live and write about was gonehad vanished! In my grief I wrote my ending to his song. It was just something I felt compelled to do! I had never written a rap song in my life! I didn't think anyone would ever see it. It wasn't my intention to ever share it. When I was done I did show it to my sister who had the horrific trauma of being the one to find him and try to give cpr to her nephew whom she loved as if he were her own. She cried, I cried, we held each other for a bit, and she looked at me with tears in her eyes and said we need to share his song and your ending at the wake.

Our song was shared with everyone in attendance, and his friends all gave me props for my first and last rap song contribution. Everyone liked it. Even his mom! We had to go and get more copies made! A couple of them told me Zach would have been proud. I have shared the song with people over the years and have had the majority of them tell me I needed to do something with it, but I was unsure what to do and too full of shame to really put it out there.

I know I should have done this long ago, but here now is my attempt to do something to help others in his honor and memory. That something is The Drug Lies which is what I named the song (he had not given it a title).

I can’t go back and fix what I didn’t understand then. I can’t give my son the ending he was trying to write. But I can do something with the truth now. Zach didn’t get to live the ending he believed was still ahead of him, and that’s something I’ll carry for the rest of my life. But his voice didn’t disappear. It’s still here—in his words, in his story, and now in what we choose to do with it. The Drug Lies is how I keep that voice moving forward—not to dwell in the past, but to reach someone who might still have time to change their ending. If sharing his story and my ending helps even one person pause, one parent look closer, one person fighting this feel more determined, or one person dealing with loss feel a little less alone, then this effort matters. I don’t have all the answers, and I’m not here to act like I do. This started with my son’s story and something I felt compelled to finish after he was gone. The Drug Lies is simply an attempt to share what’s real—what this looks like, how it happens, and how quickly things can change. If you want to follow along, learn, or just stay connected as this grows, you’re welcome here. That’s all this is. And that’s enough.