To my sister,
To love an addict hurts. It hurts too much to think of what you are doing to yourself. It’s like a dark cloud hovering over top of my life; just when things are going good for me I remember the demons you are battling and I hurt for you.
I don’t stop worrying. I worry about the people you hangout with. I worry if you’re hungry, or cold. I worry if you’re being treated right. I’m worried you feel alone. I’m worried you think you are too far-gone, because you’re not.
I try not to feel. I try not to think about how you got here. I remember my sister from the past, and it hurts, it fucking hurts. I miss my sister I spent every weekend camping with. I miss my sister who was a momma bear, who protected her kids with all she had. I miss my sister who was happy. Life got to you and it broke you down.
I know how you got here. I know life was shitty to you. But I know who you are deep down; you are still a person. You are my sister, you are a mother, you are a daughter and you are an aunt. I wish I knew the words to say to you. I wish there was something I could do that could make YOU WANT to change.
You were supposed to be my bridesmaid, we were supposed to have play dates and go camping with our kids. How did we get here?
I wish I didn’t expect the worst. I wish I didn’t mentally prepare myself to answer the phone every single time a relative calls, just in case they tell me something happened to you. I wish I didn’t feel sick every time I read about people overdosing.
I wish you could be you again. I miss who you were before the drugs. I would do anything to have that sister back, ANYTHING. I want you to be happy, I want you to be a recovery story that inspires people. I want to see you thrive at life. I want to see you stop numbing the pain, and letting yourself feel. You are strong, you are so so strong.
This disease is killing you and I’m not sure even you see it. If you do see it then you just don’t care anymore and that scares me the most. I wish there was a medicine I could give you to make you better. I wish people weren’t so insensitive when they talk about “druggies” like they aren’t an actual person. Your battle is harder than ours; you would think that would make people more empathetic.
I am not condoning the things you have done, but I have forgiven you because more than anything, I just want you to be okay again. I just want my sister back.
I just wish I knew the words to say to give you clarity, strength, hope, and the understanding of what I would do and what I would sacrifice for you to get healthy.
Your baby sister