I saw my brother today. Sort of, I guess.
Two weeks ago he began the motions of getting clean. He went to a detox facility and has since been in an outpatient program waiting to get into an inpatient program. He hit rock bottom I suppose.
My dad dropped him off in the ghetto and prayed.
I saw my brother today. Sort of, I guess. It wasn’t totally him though. He was the in between brother. The almost clean, still heroin addicted shell of my brother. The brother whose mind is still foggy without memories of the recent months. The brother who hasn’t seen my daughter since a year ago because he chose the needle over her. The brother who is trying not to be a junkie anymore.
Unfortunately though, we have been down this road so many times before. He goes to detox, he gets clean. He goes back to school. He starts drinking socially and sooner than later the needle is in his arm and the knife is in his families’ back. The cycle of destruction that has been killing our family for five fucking years starts again.
I hope this time something changes. I pray he stops. I don’t think my dad will survive another round.