Husband took Son to the movies. He had told me they were going to spend time together, but for some reason when they started preparing to actually go out I started feeling really left out and lonely. I don’t know if it’s because I have been housebound for the past couple of weeks or what but I really felt lonely and sad and left out.
Today has the added complication of being the anniversary of my brother’s death. On October 30th 2007 my 20 year old brother finally did what everyone has been fearing and fatally overdosed. He had gotten hooked on those pain killers, was drinking heavily, and mixing the opiates, alcohol, and benzos.
At the time of his death, he had already overdosed multiple times. So when we first got the news, that it appeared he had taken too many pills, and that he was unresponsive and rushed to the hospital, I was scared for him but felt sure that he would get through this.
Before I lost my brother, I somehow thought the people that were closest to me were somehow off limits for tragedy. I felt like people that I loved were meant to go through hard times and come out stronger on the other side. That was the way it always had been, so I had no reason to believe anything different. It was a terrible shock to find out otherwise.
I still very clearly remember the day of and the week after losing him. It seems like a dreadfully unfair irony. There are so many things that I want to remember that I can’t seem to, and yet this thing that I would desperately like to block out I can’t seem to forget.
I remember the hours spent at my parents house leading up to the wake, after the wake, after the funeral. I also spent hours with a few of Brother’s closest friends cleaning up his room.
There were lots of ashes and cigarette butts, pill bottles and Jack Daniels bottles. Random pills stuffed in crevices of furniture. My brother was also compulsive about keeping a journal. And he had milk crates filled with notebooks. Some of them had prose, some poetry and many of them had his cartooning.
I remember marveling how death takes away dignity and privacy. Just due to a miscalculation of exactly how much his body could tolerate, all of Brother’s dirty little secrets were out there for everyone to see. In life, he had been quite particular about what writings and cartoons he showed to which people. After he passed everyone had their hands all over everything.
Right now in my own recovery journey, I am in an awkward space trying to transition to a different medication routine as I’m facing multiple surgeries. I find this incredibly frustrating some days trying to find the right Dr trying to get the Dr to agree on the proper routine for me all of which is hindered by lately being stuck not having safe and proper transportation. I’m incredibly afraid of not having this settled before winter time with the snow setting in. Even so, even feeling like I am NOT in the best routine for my situation everyday that I am present with my family and for my family is better then even my best day of active addiction. So yeah I struggle right now I’m super blue but I carry on.
Please forgive any typos or inconsistencies in this post. I used speech to text software to compose this. My hands hurt terribly and I still needed to write so this is the result. Thank you for being a place for me to vent.