Why I Didn’t Go to Her Funeral — Even Though I Wanted To

After asking online whether I should attend the funeral of Marcy — a girl I once played a role in getting addicted to drugs — I received overwhelming advice urging me not to go. I took that advice to my therapist and sponsor, who told me showing up could put my own sobriety at risk. When the day came, I felt torn between going to the funeral or relapsing… but instead, I grabbed my dog and drove to the beach. We spent the day together, and while I’m still not okay, I
A little while ago, I asked the internet a question I couldn’t stop turning over in my mind: should I attend the funeral of Marcy, a girl I once played a part in getting addicted to drugs?
The response was overwhelming — and it wasn’t just online noise. I took that feedback to my therapist and my sponsor. My sponsor didn’t sugarcoat it: going would put my sobriety in danger. I needed to grieve in a different way.
When the day came, I was a wreck. I kept thinking about driving to the funeral… or worse, using again. Instead, I made a different choice. I grabbed my dog, got in the car, and drove to the beach. We spent the day there — just the two of us, the ocean, and the wind.
I’m still not okay, but I’m okay enough. I haven’t reached out to Marcy’s family, and I won’t. I understand now how devastating that would be for them.
Sometimes, doing the right thing means staying away — even when every part of you wants to go.