Today I learned that a friend of mine died.
I met her through my local alcohol support service. The official cause of her death isn’t yet known. She had underlying health conditions but she also relapsed less than a week before she died, and suffered from at least one seizure as a result.
She was found alone in her apartment.
She was only 41 years old.
Maybe her death was unavoidable and had nothing to do with her drinking; I’d like to think that was the case because she worked hard at her recovery.
But recovery isn’t easy and relapses are often part of the process. In this case – if alcohol was the culprit – my friend doesn’t get the chance to learn from it.
The same chance I got.
I don’t remember much from my last relapse other than my neighbour literally had to scrape me off the ground in front of my flat. Once inside, I passed out on the couch and began to vomit while asleep/unconscious. Fortunately I woke up. Eventually.
I don’t know how or why I ended up on the ground in front of my flat. Did I trip? Did I pass out? How long was I there?
What would’ve happened if I had collapsed somewhere else? If Mrs. M wasn’t around to make sure I didn’t choke?
Why am I still alive and why is my friend dead?
I don’t have the answers. I don’t know why fate is kind to some and seemingly cruel to others.
What I do know is that for some reason I’ve been given a chance to learn from my mistakes, and I am not going to waste it.
I have only one life to live and I will embrace it.
Fortunately, I woke up.
I am awake.
My friend, I wish you peaceful rest.