This is one of the hardest stories I will ever share, but it carries Matheson’s Legacy, and I feel compelled to give his final words a voice. Last Friday night, my world shattered when my sweet son, Matheson, passed away. His time here was a season, filled with immense love but also a profound struggle. Just one day before he left us, he wrote me a letter – raw, honest, and heartbreaking – about his battle with addiction. I’m sharing it because addiction doesn’t discriminate, and behind the disease is often a beautiful soul desperate for peace, just like my Matheson.
His Final Words
Matheson loved God; he even had John 14:6 tattooed on his side: “I am the way and the truth and the life.” He was searching for that truth, even amidst his struggle. His letter reveals the torment he felt, the war within his mind:
“Mom, First off, I want to say I’m really sorry… I have a disease, a mental illness… my brain just doesn’t function normally when I’m caught in the grip of addiction… The things I’ve done and ruined make me want to scream and cry because it feels so out of control…
In the grip of addiction, I can’t stop on my own… The rush brings me a false sense of peace amidst my shame… I can’t stand to think about how I’ve lied to you… Hurting you pushed me to make the difficult decision to seek rehab… I hope you believe me when I say I’m truly sorry and love you so much!
My relationship with God is real… But the high I chase is so powerful and deceptive… I don’t want this to be my life; I truly believe that… It’s frustrating that I gave in this time… there’s no such thing as “one time” or moderation for me.
I don’t like what I’m doing; I hate it… It feels like I’m trapped… I hope you can see the truth in what I’m saying because the lies I tell and the hurt I cause are not who I really am… right now, I can’t bear to face the person I’ve been these past few days.”
A Mother’s Plea for Compassion
Reading his words broke my heart all over again, but it also filled me with pride. Even in his darkest moments, Matheson had the courage to be honest, to reach out, to acknowledge his struggle. He wanted his life, his fight, to mean something.
And I want that too. Addiction isn’t a moral failing or just a series of bad choices. It’s a disease, a relentless battle fought daily. It can overshadow faith, strain love, and feel insurmountable. But please know, the person trapped inside often despises the addiction more than anyone. They are still yearning for light, still fighting. Unlike innocent animals driven purely by instinct, humans battling addiction face a complex war within their own minds.
Read More: Man Loses 360 Pounds Naturally, Internet Rallies to Support His Next Step
Matheson knew he was loved. He knew I fought for him. Ultimately, I had to trust God’s plan, and I believe my son has finally found the peace he desperately sought.
If you know someone battling this disease, please read Matheson’s words. Approach them with compassion, not judgment. Let them know they are loved, that you see the person beyond the addiction. Sharing these painful stories isn’t easy, but Matheson’s Legacy deserves to be heard. Perhaps his honesty can reach another struggling soul, another family, and make a difference. That is how I will honor my son.
Full Story: The Hidden Meaning Behind Princess Diana’s Cannes Gown: A Heartfelt Farewell to Grace Kelly
