At the moment I felt like I was almost out of words.
The emotions were running through me at a frightening pace and I didn’t want to stay in one well for any length for fear of being swallowed by it.
I spent the morning at Surrey Memorial Hospital trying to help my sister get into detox.
Remaining collected and calm was at at times difficult. She was wound up tighter than a 60 year old virgin and I had to keep my focus.
It’s hard to watch.
This woman I love has just slipped deeper and deeper into the abyss of addiction. Her options are severely limited now.
Either get clean or die.
That’s simply what it has come down to.
Addiction dulls the senses, robs everything you’ve every held dear, kills you. While the blood may still be pumping through your veins and the heart still beats the spirit is crushed, vacant.
Vitals were taken and I hoped, oddly enough, that some medical issue would present itself so that the hospital would have to admit her. She would at least be in a place that was safe.
I suppose the realization of just how incapable of caring for herself she is really struck home as well.
And knowing, not only can I not take on all of this, but that I don’t want to. And the guilt I feel in not want to offer more is at times overwhelming.
At times today I looked at the anger that simmered below the surface for me. I looked at the waste in her life.
So many blessings were afforded her yet this is simply my perspective. I know from experience that what we view as blessings may be another’s hell.
Somewhere the connection for her was severed. Now she is lost somewhere in a sea of mental illness. Can we help her find her way back?
That’s the hope.
A week of maneuvering through phone calls and leads and more dead ends was weighing on me and my daughter reminded me to take care of myself. And hell, I’m wound up tighter than an 80 year old virgin.
I’ll find my release though in the only way I know how. I’ll curl up to a page and seduce it with my pen with whatever words come to mind.
So many entries were begun today.
I wanted to escape what I was feeling. I wanted to escape being inundated with another’s pain. I wanted to shut my emotions off. I don’t want to feel.
The social worker asks me “Can she stay with you?”
My response is so fucking automatic and I resent being put in this position.
But I cannot help her. What she needs is far beyond what exists in my reservoir of quick fixes.
The medical community still insists that she make decisions for herself regardless of the outcome.
I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to succeed and be happy.
And I likely will cy and scream. And I know I will continue to succeed and find my happy. I owe it to myself, no one else.
And if you choose to remain in your hell, sister of mine, who am I to try to persuade you of the beauty of this life?
If you cannot see this now, how can I change this?
Again it comes down to perspective and as you’ve noted ‘you are not the only fish in the sea.’
As much as the tidal wave of emotions raced through me, in the end, my heart was breaking. This illness of yours, so subtly succinct in its manipulations.
I take a sip of my beer, ironically I want to be a little numb right now.
Trying to help you with you all this reminds me of the shit I’ve worked so hard to put behind me. I am settling the emotions that have gone through like a firestorm this day.
And not once were you aware of what I was experiencing. Not once could you possibly have known how difficult all of this was to take in.
The firestorm passed and I wondered who am to tell you how to live you life? If you’ve chosen misery, so be it.
I haven’t and perhaps that’s why I am feeling so angry
Look around at this gift of life and use it.
I can’t tell you that I hurt for you. I can’t tell you how beautiful this life can be.
When I have in the past you’ve scoffed at the beauty and told me nothing I feel will ever match your pain.
You’re right and I am not willing to go there with you. If you proceed down this path, you go alone.
I’ve found a beauty in this life and I will celebrate every day that these eyes of mine open.
And even on the days when the view isn’t so great, when I find myself in sterile surroundings void of anything organic…I will appreciate the cold that stings my cheeks.
It reminded me of one thing.
I’m alive and I love it.