I want to start by saying in my old life, I didn’t realize the compassion that is necessary for dealing with the disease of addiction and those who suffer from it. Not to say that I didn’t have compassion for those who were struggling, but until it was actually pointed out to me, I didn’t realize how critical compassion is.
After Tommy went to rehab, someone said to me, remember to have compassion for him. No child ever dreams of having addiction issues. No child thinks this is what they want in their life. No person dreams of having the disease of addiction or having overdoses or ending up homeless because of this disease. No child or person dreams of living with the shame that is part of addiction.
I started looking at it through this lens and trying my best to deal with Tommy through this new lens of compassion. Compassion for this child who was struggling desperately and who wanted so badly to get clean. This child who was isolated even more because of covid and not able to see friends or return to anything that he’d known before. This child who struggled with this disease, but was isolated in our home and forced to try to do meetings and outpatient treatment via zoom and no personal interaction. It breaks my heart to even put this into words on paper because it is so unfair.
All of this leads me to the realization that even within the world of addiction and pill-users and overdose, there are qualifiers. I admit that we have succumbed to these qualifiers. In the obituary, which I’ve attached below, we qualified Tommy’s death as an ‘accidental’ overdose. Not only as if it makes it more acceptable, but honestly, how many of these fatal overdoses aren’t accidental? Yes, there may be some that aren’t accidental, but people don’t know that so many of the street drugs are laced with amounts of fentanyl that will kill them. And while they may have been told at some point that it’s a possibility, the power of addiction is so strong that they aren’t able to think clearly anymore.
I’ve had a few conversations in this last week that have touched on this. It kills me to have to qualify Tommy’s death as an accidental overdose. Of course it was accidental! And honestly, how dare anyone assume that it wasn’t just because I may not include the word “accidental” before I say overdose. I’ve been made so much more aware of the terminology that is used in this world and so much more effected by it. My son wasn’t a junkie. He wasn’t an addict. He had a disease that killed him. He was a smart, well rounded, well traveled, kind person who had a disease that killed him. I didn’t get to ask him, but I believe with every bit of my being that this was an accident. I’m so mad at this disease. I’m mad that the opioid epidemic in our country isn’t talked about more. I’m mad that I don’t have Tommy here with me. Most of the time I don’t let myself feel this anger because it’s just so very painful. I’m mad that I have to qualify his death. I’m mad that there are qualifiers. I’m mad that ‘recreational pill user’ is a phrase that makes this type overdose seem more acceptable to the general world. I’m sure that Tommy started out as a ‘recreational pill user’, but his addiction went further than that.
I’ve been shown so much compassion and kindness over the last few months. I decided to put this story out there because Tommy can’t. I can put this out there so that others don’t have to feel alone while they’re watching their loved ones struggle. I can put this out there in the hopes that it helps someone sometime. I hope that in putting this out there, people develop more compassion for those that are struggling. It’s a disease that doesn’t give up. I’ve seen it. It can come back at any time.
Tommy in Montana, August 2019
Tommy’s Obituary, June 2020
On Friday, June 12, 2020, Thomas Saliamonas (known by all who loved him as Tommy) passed away at the young age of 18.
Tommy was born on March 16, 2002 at Huntington Memorial Hospital in Pasadena, CA to Stephanie Lynn Wiley and Vitautas John Saliamonas.
Tommy was a kind, compassionate, “always rooting for the underdog” person. He had an undeniable sense of adventure and enjoyed snowboarding, skateboarding, hiking, biking and spending time with friends. He had a true gift of making people feel important, loved and included. He would do anything to make people smile and was quick to strike up a conversation.
Family was so important to Tommy; he was especially close to his four grandparents and would spend hours listening to their childhood stories, helping them out around the house, and most importantly spending quality time together.
Tommy graduated from La Cañada High School on June 3, 2020. While in high school, he wrestled and raced cross country mountain bikes. Academically, Tommy enjoyed four years of studying German and loved it so much that he spent the summer before his Junior year in Germany as part of a student exchange program.
Tommy had a twinkle in his eye from the moment he was born and had an adventurous, free-spirited approach to life. Alongside Tommy in all of life’s adventures was his brother, Peter Saliamonas. Close in age, just two years apart, Tommy and Peter shared cherished laughs, experiences and wild adventures together.
Tommy will be lovingly remembered by: his mother, Stephanie Wiley and partner Stephen Gascoigne; his father, John Saliamonas and partner Kelly Villasenor, his brother Peter Wiley Saliamonas, his grandparents Rita and Victor Saliamonas and Laurel and Webster G. Wiley III, his aunts and uncles Ilona and Behrooz Shakibnia, Rob Saliamonas, Dalia and Ignacio Renedo, Scott and Sarah Wiley, and Brett and Lindsay Wiley, his cousins, and extended family.
Tommy’s life ended too soon due to an accidental drug overdose. In lieu of food or flowers, please consider making a donation in Tommy’s name to the Gooden Center, a rehabilitation center in Pasadena, CA.
Details about a memorial service will be shared at a later date and Tommy’s family hopes that all who loved him will join them in celebrating and remembering his life.
Click here for a recent podcast episode on Armchair Expert by Dax Shepard worth listening to about the nature of how quickly relapses happen. I’m so thankful that he had the courage to put this out there.
