I think I was somewhere around 8-10 years old when I realized that our family wasn’t the happy, functional family that lived on the corner. I didn’t know the word for it was dysfunctional until a couple years later but we have to be the most dysfunctional family on Earth, well right next to the Dahmer family. When I started drinking at 12, it felt good to stop the thoughts and worry about why our family was the way it was. There was no communication other than violence, no kind words or touches, no praise; only jealousy, hatred, and sickness of the mind. We literally couldn’t stand being near each other or even to hear voices of each of us.
A few days ago I got a call from my Dad. The words will ring in my years until the day that I die.
Has anyone told you that your brother had to be transported to the hospital for what we have been tiptoeing around for way too many years?
About 10 years ago my brother broke his leg in such a way that I couldn’t believe the man could function with the pain even just to be flown to the nearest hospital. He was prescibed painkillers and still is.
Now if you are an alcoholic or an addict (which I think of those as the same diseases), you know that they don’t start off slow; they can overtake your body, soul, mind, and heart at a rapid pace. Their only purpose to us is to take us to a darkness that we never knew existed, to lie to us, to kill us. It’s very important to understand that addiction will kill us, not only our bodies but also our souls.
No Dad, nobody has let me know anything. I need information, I need to figure out how I can help. IT’S going to kill him, Dad.
Apparently this has nothing to do with addiction but actually with a blood pressure medication, now this is my brothers version of what has happened and keep in mind he’s the addict so think of the most self-centered, conniving, lying bastard ever. Every word that comes out of his mouth is going to be a lie, an exaggeration, and a ploy.
My blood pressure meds made me passout four different times so my wife after the fourth time called for transport. I must have taken the prescription wrong or they must have wrote it wrong.
No, actually what is going on is that he’s passed the line of defense when it comes to this insidious disease. He’s now in the death mode, rock bottom needs to come now before it’s too late and the disease takes him from life. I’m not sure how to help him or even if I should. See, the one thing I am sure of is that help is going to do no good if he doesn’t want it. All I need is that one thought to appear in his brain, that one thought that says:
Enough is enough. I can do this no longer.
That thought doesn’t have to stay there, it can come and go just as fast but it has to be there for just one instance before I can put any plans into motion of making him fall flat on his face and hit his rock bottom. I will not allow his rock bottom to be death. I will save his life. What perplexes me is; what if I can’t?