When I first heard that Prince might have overdosed on pain meds, I immediately knew that it was true. I was angry that it was true! Then as I sat and watched with the world all the replays of his magnificent concerts and performances, I saw something. Only someone with chronic pain would see it. The pain etched on his face, in his eyes. It’s my humble opinion that he started wearing sunglasses to hide the pain in his eyes. Then the autopsy report came out. He had overdosed on fentanyl. That is one highly dangerous drug, as the author of this article shares her own brush while using it.
I found this on Pinterest as they moved away from Prince dying of natural causes to he might have overdosed on pain meds. This sums up perfectly how many in the pain community feel. It’s hard to be a chronic pain patient in a time where we are looked at as the bad guys. I’m not a drug seeking bad girl looking for her next fix! I am a person in pain. Someone who, for a little while, just wants the pain to ease up. For most of us, opioids only take the edge off of our pain so we can be functioning, slightly productive members of society.
Prince was with me from youth to adult. As I grew older, his lyrics spoke to me in ways that no others could. Of love and hurt. Laughter and sadness. He taught me to party and dance like no one’s looking. How to blow off society’s shackles and be myself. I don’t know how to go on without hearing a new song freshly written by one of the masters. While he had hundreds, maybe thousands of recorded music in his vaults in the Paisley Palace, they are not new, not a sign of the times.
Prince died and it rained for a month. The world was shedding tears for the loss of The Beautiful One. We now know what it sounds like when doves cry.