Hitting rock bottom

Today I realized that I haven’t seen my brother since July.  Nine months.  I could have had a baby and he wouldn’t have known.

My brother has hit rock bottom.  Again. He is homeless.  He is a junkie.  Since his arrest over Christmas holiday, he has been arrested twice, gotten in one car accident, and overdosed.  He didn’t tell us about any of it.  His best friend who was once a user, filled me in on his life since I’ve last seen him.  It wasn’t easy listening to the sordid tales of his awful life but I had to.  I had to know what his life is like.

This time it’s the worst.

My dad picked my brother up this morning to take him to detox.  My brother was high and looked homeless.  His shirt and pants were torn, his skin grey and dirty, and his nails black as night.  He couldn’t talk, walk, or open his eyes.  I am absolutely sure my father’s heart shattered a million times over.  As they drove to the detox center my brother would become randomly coherent to point out street corners that he could score on.  Devastation.

It’s getting to the point where I no longer fear his death.  Now I fear him becoming a nameless face, begging for change, that  I pass on the street one day.  I worry that his disease will take his life but leave him alive.

I think about his mind and how smart he once was.  Smarter than me that’s for sure.  I think about how good-looking he used to be, tall & handsome.  I think about how much I would laugh when he was around.  My belly would ache. That boy I once loved will all my heart is gone and I am beyond scared that I will never see him again.  He is a shell and heroin is his body.


6 thoughts on “Lost”

  1. Hi Amelia- I always enjoy your blog, but your writing about your brother is so raw and moving. I read it and I think, now she’s really writing! I think there is a book here, and I’m holding out for a happy ending. Keep writing!


  2. I was relieved to see you “take back” your holiday. Compassion fatigue is very real, and sneaky as hell. So is secondary trauma, which is also what you are experiencing via your brother’s addiction.

    Damn I wish I had a big fucking magic wand just about now. But since I don’t, I’ll just leave you comment of encouragement with a lot of glitter and shit on it. : )



  3. Ladies,

    Thank you for your words. It truly helps. I wish it would all go away too but I guess there is a reason for everything and someday I’m sure I will find out why my family has to go thru this tragedy. Until then I am going to concentrate on my healthy family.




  4. Pingback: ianne
  5. Amelia –

    I just stumbled across your blog tonight at 2:30am, up looking for extended stay cheap rates because my younger brother was just evicted 2 days ago after a SWAT raid. My family is three years into my brother’s poppy-lined ‘yellow brick road’ – a journey none of us signed up for yet walk in the gray cloud above our heads and hearts. We are waiting on his first jail sentence – it happened over Christmas, too. We made a crab feast with corn and potatoes…and he showed up to Christmas dinner 2 hours late, eyes black, face pocked, slumped shoulders…

    Thank you for writing. I feel so isolated at times, I forget I am not the only big sister with the junkie brother, stealing my debit card and car keys when I let him crash on the couch. Thank you for shucking the guise of only being hurt or helping or hoping and speaking about anger and frustration and disgust.

    From one sister to another, thank you. I will be following your blog and sending you and your family wishes for peace.



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