When people walked through the doors of Woodstock Academy’s Center for the Arts on March 25 they were greeted by the smiling, exuberant faces of those who had died by overdose.
Huge, beautiful pictures on 2-foot by 3-foot posters lined the entryway. They smiled from every foot of wall in the oversized atrium. A young man grins while holding a fish he just caught. A hat sits at a jaunty angle on another man’s head. A young woman holds a cat close to her heart. Another has her arms wrapped around a small child.
The pictures memorialize lives claimed by addiction. They remind us that the dead were once – and still are – sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters. They were loved. They loved in return, but left the world too soon because of opioid addictions and government, healthcare, and recovery systems inadequate to help them.
These dead are remembered on the posters as thoughtful, kind, adventurous, witty. Two adjectives are used to describe each person. They recall the best of who they were, not that they were troubled by addiction or mental illness, not that they had struggled with treatment programs or couldn’t shake the demons of powerfully made and marketed drugs.
John Lally’s son, Timothy, was the inspiration for the poster project of Today I Matter, a nonprofit established in his name. The 29-year-old overdosed on Jan. 21, 2016 after a long struggle with depression and anxiety. Treatment programs didn’t help Tim. Opioids made him feel better. His reliance on them, and his eventual turn to heroin, killed him.
At first, Lally couldn’t believe that addiction had found its way into his family. He and his wife are medical professionals. They were parents to two boys, were economically stable, and fairly well educated.
“We tried to do the right things,” he said. “We played classical music and read to them before they were born.”
His son’s struggles started in high school. His panic attacks got worse. So did his depression. Tim continued to struggle for years, going to treatment and mental health programs. Nothing seemed to work for him, and it was the shame of that failure that ate at him.
“Tim struggled with shame,” Lally said. “I blame myself. My shame contributed to his shame. He felt like a loser.”
Lally and his wife got a call early one morning telling them that their son had overdosed. Tim suffered brain damage and cardiac arrest and was on life support for three days. The family decided to take him off the machines and Tim died seven minutes later.
T.I.M.’s mission is to reduce the shame and stigma surrounding addiction and mental illness. It provides speakers and resources for families and individuals regarding the recognition, prevention, and intervention for mental health and substance abuse. It advocates compassion for those with addiction and mental illness.
“Compassion is an action word,” Lally said.
Then, he challenged his audience to join his efforts. Don’t stand silent if someone makes a derogatory remark about an addict or someone mentally ill. Don’t accept behavior that bullies and ostracizes others. Offer compassion to those you think are struggling. Reach out and show that you care.
“We need to stop judging, to stop shaming people,” Lally said. “Everyday can be a struggle for survival for some people.”
For more information, go to www.todayimatter.org.
Denise Coffey can be reached at dcoffey@courant.com.
