He was the "Candy Man." A 6'10" point forward who could handle the rock like a guard and bang in the paint with the bigs. If you followed the NBA in the late 2000s, you knew Lamar Odom was the glue that held the Los Angeles Lakers together during those back-to-back championship runs. He was versatile. He was beloved. He was everywhere. Then, suddenly, the headlines changed from triple-doubles to tragedies.
People still ask what happened to Lamar Odom because his fall was so public, so visceral, and so nearly fatal. It wasn't just a sports injury or a bad trade. It was a total collapse of a life under the weight of grief and addiction, played out in front of paparazzi cameras.
The Trade That Broke the Connection
Most people look at the 2015 overdose as the starting point, but honestly? It started in 2011. Lamar loved being a Laker. He found a family in LA, something he’d been chasing since he was a kid growing up in Queens. When the news broke that he was being traded to the Dallas Mavericks—part of the botched Chris Paul deal that the NBA eventually vetoed—it destroyed him.
He felt betrayed.
He showed up to Dallas out of shape and mentally checked out. The spark was gone. You could see it in his eyes during interviews. He wasn't the same "L.O." anymore. He was traded again, bounced around, and eventually, the league he loved moved on without him. For an athlete whose identity was entirely wrapped up in the game, that vacuum was filled by old demons.
👉 See also: Chiquis Rivera en tanga: Why Her Viral Confidence Actually Matters
Grief as a Foundation for Addiction
To understand Lamar, you have to look at the trauma. This isn't just "celebrity lifestyle" stuff. Lamar lost his mother to colon cancer when he was only twelve. He lost his grandmother, who raised him, shortly after. Then came the unthinkable: the death of his six-month-old son, Jayden, to SIDS in 2006.
He never really processed it. He just kept playing.
When the basketball stopped, the grief caught up. He started using crack cocaine. He’s been very open about this in his memoir, Darkness to Light. He described himself as a "professional at hiding it." He would disappear for days. His marriage to Khloé Kardashian, which had turned him into a reality TV icon, began to crumble under the weight of the infidelity and drug use that the cameras didn't initially catch.
The Night in Nevada: 2015
October 2015 is when the world thought we lost him. Lamar was found unconscious at the Love Ranch brothel in Crystal, Nevada. He had suffered multiple strokes and kidney failure. He was in a coma.
It was grim.
Doctors didn't think he’d wake up. If he did, they didn't think he’d ever walk or talk again. The sheer amount of cocaine and herbal Viagra in his system had basically shut his body down. The Kardashian family rushed to his side. Even though he and Khloé were separated, she put the divorce on hold to make medical decisions for him. It was a miracle, plain and simple, that he walked out of that hospital months later.
The Recovery Was Not Linear
Recovery is messy. It’s never a straight line from "coma" to "healthy." Lamar struggled. He had a series of public relapses. You’d see a photo of him at a bar and the internet would lose its mind. People wanted him to be "fixed," but addiction is a beast that doesn't care about your comeback narrative.
He eventually sought treatment at a facility in Florida. He started using Ketamine therapy under medical supervision to deal with the depression and the urges to use again. He credits that—and his faith—with finally getting his head above water.
Where is Lamar Odom Now?
Fast forward to 2026, and Lamar is in a completely different headspace. He isn't playing in the NBA, obviously, but he’s become a bit of a mogul in the wellness and recovery space. He owns several treatment centers now, branded as Odom Wellness Treatment Centers.
It’s actually a pretty smart pivot.
Instead of just being a "survivor," he’s using his name to get people into beds where they can get help. He’s also ventured into the world of boxing—celebrity matches that keep him in the gym and give him that competitive outlet he missed from his basketball days. He’s also a frequent flyer on the reality TV circuit, appearing on Celebrity Big Brother and Dancing with the Stars, though he seems more grounded these days.
What Most People Get Wrong
The biggest misconception is that Lamar "threw it all away" for a party lifestyle. If you listen to him speak now, or read his interviews with experts like those at the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA), you realize it was a health crisis. He was self-medicating a level of trauma that would break most people.
He didn't just wake up one day and decide to ruin his career.
He was a man who lost his support system (basketball), his family (Khloé), and his sense of self all at once. The fact that he is alive today, standing tall, and running businesses is a testament to his physical resilience. Most people don't survive one stroke, let alone twelve.
Lessons From the L.O. Story
If we’re looking for the "so what" of Lamar’s journey, it’s about the intersection of mental health and high-performance sports. We talk about it more now—thanks to guys like Kevin Love and DeMar DeRozan—but Lamar was going through it when the culture was still telling men to "man up."
His story teaches us a few things:
- Support systems matter. When the Lakers traded him, he lost his "tribe," which made him vulnerable.
- Unprocessed grief is a ticking time bomb. You can't outrun it, not even with a 40-inch vertical.
- Recovery is a business of seconds. Lamar often says he takes it one moment at a time, staying away from the triggers that led him to Nevada.
Lamar Odom’s legacy isn't just the rings or the "Sixth Man of the Year" trophy. It’s the fact that he’s a walking, talking example of the possibility of a second act. He’s a bit slower than he used to be, and his memory isn't what it was before the strokes, but he’s present. And for a guy who was once given a 50/50 chance of living through the night, that’s everything.
Actionable Insights for Navigating Similar Challenges:
- Acknowledge the Trauma: If you are dealing with loss, seek a licensed grief counselor before the weight becomes unmanageable.
- Monitor Your "Tribe": Understand that major career shifts (like a trade or a layoff) can trigger an identity crisis. Reach out to friends and mentors during these transitions.
- Explore Modern Recovery: If traditional methods fail, look into medically supervised options like Ketamine therapy or intensive outpatient programs that focus on dual-diagnosis (treating both addiction and the underlying mental health issue).
- Find a Physical Outlet: Lamar uses boxing to stay sober. Find a sport or physical hobby that demands your full focus to help quiet the mental noise.