Mom, I know how frustrating this must be from your end of things and I am very very sorry. In the past month since my one week relapse I have been falling apart piece by piece, mentally and emotionally.

– Brent Hastings, in a letter from the Plymouth County Correctional Correctional Facility in 2013.

Brent Hastings died of a drug overdose on March 12, 2014. He had taken a fatal dose of heroin mixed with fentanyl – a lethal combination of depressants that together shut down the body’s heart and lungs. He was 26 years old.

Now, 18 months later, Melodye Conway said she still has not recovered from losing her son. She said soliciting donations for the Sept. 20 charity golf event in Hastings’ name has been excruciating: “‘Hi, my name’s Melodye. My son died of a heroin overdose last year. We have this event to raise funds for the Herren project.’”

She is not alone. In 2014, the number of unintentional opioid deaths in Massachusetts clocked in at 1,047, according to data released in July 2015 by the Massachusetts Department of Health and Human Services. This was 15 percent higher than in 2013, and almost 58 percent higher than in 2012. The data also show there were 9 overdose deaths in 2013 and 7 overdose deaths in 2014 in Wareham, significantly higher than the 2 deaths recorded in 2012.

I know this letter may seem like – I don’t know – [messed] up but I needed you to really truly understand what was going on with me inside my head. It’s amazing – no – sickening how much emotional damage a week can do when I had such high hopes of finally beating this and getting to a place on top of my world for once, but good old disease of addiction put me in check real quick.

It was raining the day Brent Hastings died.

“I was in denial when I got the call. I got the call that they had found him, and the EMTs were there, so, in my head I was hoping that it wasn’t – that they were going to save him,” Conway remembers. “I was really still hoping against all hope that they would find a way. And they didn’t.”

Hastings had become addicted to heroin, after suffering a back injury at work when he was 20. He was prescribed Percocet, a painkiller, and muscle relaxers. Though he stopped taking the Percocet, after the injury healed, he was reinjured on the job, and prescribed Percocet again. However, ceasing the painkillers this time around was not quite as easy, and Hastings quickly found his way to heroin, as the street drug is less expensive than prescription painkillers.

Trust me when I say that I am not happy or enjoying my time here at the Plymouth County Club for losers and consistent [screwups].

Conway didn’t realize what was happening to her son, at first. She said she thought Hastings, who was working for a tow company around the clock at the time the first signs started to appear, was simply overtired, or sick.

“I don’t even know when I had that first inkling. I can tell you he was a little more defensive. Less willing to talk to me about anything,” Conway said. “Those were the little things, telling me, ‘Ah, if I had known … !’ Maybe we could have intervened a little sooner. … I don’t know if it would have helped, but it couldn’t have hurt.”

After failing a drug test in 2013, Hastings underwent two stays in the Plymouth County Correctional Facility. Conway said the tidal wave of the seriousness of Hastings’ addiction hit her, when she received the letter from the correctional facility.

I … succumbed to my own devil inside. I am truly sick of living this way, but I am stuck with this mountain in front of me every day. All of those Facebook posts you were worried about – well, you had reason to worry. I had always promised myself that if I relapsed I wouldn’t allow myself to survive it.

“I felt like … it was a turning point, where you could never go back from that, so what was forward going to look like?” Conway said. “If he overdosed – I know he overdosed multiple times before the final, fatal overdose. Each time just thinking, ‘Is this the last one? Is this the last time you’re going to see him?’”

Conway said she did not tell friends or family what was going on with her son, and tried to deal with it on her own. She began to isolate herself, because “I’d be in such a dark place, I knew I wouldn’t be able to interact on a level to hide it.”

“You start to shut down, and shut off people that you know,” Conway said. “I shut off family, and that might have been unfair to them, but that’s how I handled it.”

Conway said her biggest fear was the stigma that comes with being an addict, or the parent of an addict.

“Maybe I didn’t want people to know how deep and bad it was. … To be a witness to it, I guess, my embarrassment,” Conway said. “It sucks to sit in court with your kid, especially in town, because I lived here my whole life, so [I] know everybody. So I would just sit there … trying to keep [my] head down.”

I knew deep inside that I was going to jail for what I had done … and I could have gone on the run … but I didn’t – I walked into that courthouse ready to answer for my wrongs.

Even after Hastings’ death, Conway said she would hear people or see people write scathing words about addicts who had overdosed and died, because “[addicts’] lives matter less, for some reason.”

“That whole, ‘All lives matter’ thing is everywhere on social media … so I guess I am continually shocked when I see people speaking like that about addiction,” Conway said. “Those lives don’t count? … Imagine being an addict, and feeling that coming at you from all directions, constantly. … That [your life] doesn’t matter, and you are afraid to reach out to people, because you’re afraid of what they’ll think, what they’ll say. How they’ll handle you.”

“It’s a horribly difficult, painful thing to talk about,” Conway continued. “I [keep] wanting to wake up, and the nightmare’s over, and reality’s back, and he’s going to come walking through the door. … Every day, it’s the first thing that hits you, when you open your eyes.”

I love you Mom and I am sorry for everything I have put you through.

Conway said one of the places she often goes to dip out of the world is her son’s grave.

“I am at the cemetery, three to four times a week, straightening up the gardens. Because I have to be there,” Conway said. “I can … clear my head, and move on to the next thing, when I feel like I am really stressed out. … Fill my little jugs with water, and water the gardens, and let it go. Try to leave it behind.”

… Jail is not where I want to be.

I love you very much

Brent

The memorial golf tournament raised more than $16,000 last year for The Herren Project, a national anti-substance abuse initiative that meant a lot Hastings. Conway said she does not expect as much this year. With only a couple weeks to go until the Sept. 20 tournament, Conway is still looking for prize donations and tee sponsors.

The tournament starts at 12:30 p.m. There is a $125 fee for golf and dinner, and a $25 fee for just dinner. Chris Herren will also be at the event. To register for the tournament, contact Melodye Conway at 508-951-2300.