Hey Bro,
How can I live (sober and kindly) in a world in which you no longer breathe.
Nate, this world is fucking terrifying. I know you know this more than anyone. You're the only human who felt that fear with me-from the day you entered this world. You felt that fear as you fought to stay sober, and you really fought fucking hard. You felt that fear on the day you died. And now I'm here carrying it alone.
What's ironic is the drugs saved you long before they killed you. Using was only a refuge from the pain, darkness, and fear. At first it helped us more than anything we ever experienced, it was the ultimate remedy for our broken insides. Finally we had figured it out! How were we to know it would flip a switch inside of us, releasing an endless flood of obsessive thoughts that would wrap around our brains like the red scarf wrapped around our mother's neck- with one mission: gradual suffocation.
It's weird that I can love something and hate it so much at the same time. That feeling of warmth, safety, and relief is one I'll never accurately put into words. I'm fortunate to have realized before it was too late-that it is no longer attainable, that the chase will only end in jail, institutions, or death. But that doesn't change the harsh reality that life is so much harder sober, and that I've yet to find alternative remedies for a pain that hurts this bad. I feel even more afraid and alone-now that you're gone. I want to pick up, so I don't have to feel this fear-this deep one that als has no words.
It's the fear we felt when we were cold and hungry and went days without adult contact and food, the fear we felt when we were taken from our parents and grandfather-the only caregivers we knew.
People offer words of comfort. Some, they cut like glass..the same glass that shattered against the wall as we hid in the closet as children, covering our ears to muffle the screams. They say "He wasn't a bad kid, he just made bad decisions." "I'm sorry for your loss. How could he be so selfish to choose the drugs over his own family?" "If only he had kept coming to church-it breaks my heart that he chose this ending." These words make me want to kick and scream, and throw my body onto the floor. We were both tantrum extraordinaires.
How can people not see that addiction was a symptom of the trauma we experienced, and the only choice we had? I want to tell them that yes it killed you, but it also saved your life. It saved mine too. The drugs and alcohol were our tools, the only ones we had at the time. God let us down so early, at least the punishing one we were taught to fear. The God we grew up with hated us for being who we were, judged us for mistakes that were never ours, and condemned us to hell before we even developed self-will.
Addiction was never a choice we made. We chose to pick up that first drink, just like every teenager in our town. But we didn't know about the warm safety blanket that would grip us so tightly, the obsessive thinking that would lead us to seek more and more. We didn't know that we would never get enough.
We were born with addict brains--and our early life experiences molded them into time-bombs, wired to self-destruct. We chose the bottle, we chose the pills, we chose the needle, but only because there was no better option. It worked when nothing else did. We were only trying to be okay and feel safe, in a world that never taught us how. This wasn't your fault. And it wasn't mine either. And blaming anyone else will not make this pain go away.
Its feels so unfair that I am here and you are not. I need you to be here.
I, at least, would like to know where you are? I know it's not hell- unlike members of our family. But where the fuck are you, and when can I join? I don't want to die. I just don't want to feel this.
------That's exactly how you felt before you picked-up again.
I cannot pick-up nor do I want to continue to feel this. But just like that one time you cut the grass, so I could go on that stupid trip with my friends- I will suck it up and do this;feel this~ for both of us.
Just know that I hate this. And it's really fucking unfair! (You ALWAYS got to go first.)
I know this time it wasn't your choice. Regardless, it really fucking hurts.
Love you,
Sis