Dear Older Brother,
Enough is enough.
You must take this somewhere else. You have chosen this life, and no one can change your mind. Well, I told you a few months back that I do not care what you do, but you cannot do it here. It has been long enough, and you must leave now. You have done too much damage to this family, and we cannot save you. You don't want to help yourself, or you would have done something by now. This is home-base, and you have stripped it of its warm feeling. Just as the drugs have damaged your soul, you have damaged our rebuilt foundation once again.
Your whole life, you have neglected to think about how your actions affect other people. When you start risking the well-being of another member of this family is when I can no longer stay quiet. We are truly blessed with a great family who loves us unconditionally, even after you have personally betrayed each one of us to a certain extent at some point in your life. I wish you could see how much you are loved, but I know you cannot see through all the guilt and shame. You are drowning, and we don't know how to keep your head above water.
I shut my emotions down from you a long time ago — almost seven years ago to be exact — but when you moved back here with your wife, my gut told me things were going to get rough. I didn't think they were going to get as bad as they did, but when you found your wife dead in her camper from an overdose, I literally felt my heart break for your loss. The whole family was affected by her death, and I knew that would make or break you.
From that moment, things got very hard for me because I bad hoped this would be the time you woke up and saw the fragility of this beautiful thing we call life. I could not imagine waking up every day without your partner, and thinking about that instantly triggers the images from that horrific day. I was scared for your mental sake, but after all this, I still found needles. This is unacceptable. I do not doubt that you need help, and we want to help you. But you have left us no choice. Drugs are not the answer. What options do we have?
My heart is aching for you, and I wish there were a better way. The cleanest times of your life were when you were locked up, but it wouldn't take you long to run back to your old habits once you got out. Maybe if you went to jail for a year then straight into a live-in rehab for another year while finishing with a year in a halfway home, you'd have three years of sobriety. I think like that sometimes, but then I quickly remind myself no facility can help you until you want to be saved from your addiction.
The thought of you getting off of a bus somewhere and not knowing where you will lay your head that night frightens me. I don't want that for you — none of us do — but I cannot sit here, waiting for the phone call that Mom found you dead. If there is one thing I will try to prevent, it is her being haunted by of you dead — the same image that you have of your wife. It will mean nothing that the piece of her soul that will die with you the day your body decides it has had enough, but maybe she will remember you alive. You have failed to take care of the vessel we are given to navigate through this world, and one day it is going to shut down on you.
I don't want you to die, but at this rate, I am terrified it might be inevitable.
I don't want you to become just another statistic.
You are so far gone and don't know any other way. I truly believe you don't even know what you need to be OK, but there becomes a point where a line has to be drawn. You will steal anything you can that will benefit your addiction. I can admit that growing up in our home life, we didn't have a lot of structure, but we were given a pretty fair chance at succeeding in life. We even went to private school all through elementary. You were given so many outlets as you grew up to learn the tools you needed to cope with this heavy world, but nothing worked. Now it has been 10+ years of this same vicious cycle with you, and we are all so tired. I feel like our hands are tied, but the only thing certain is that you have to go find what you need somewhere else.
I want to know one day that you are living a functional and healthy life. When I decide to have children, I want them to know their cool uncle. You are a great person, and our grandfather said it the best: "He is not insensitive."
You have a heart of gold, and that's why it hurts mine so badly to see you struggle for this long. But boundaries have to be set in order to maintain the happiness of others in this family. I will not let you sacrifice what means so much to me for your selfish desire to get high.
Why do you choose this lifestyle over us every time?
Why is your mother's heart not a good enough reason to live a better life?
Your life could mean much more than the sensation of the needle filling your vein with dangerous chemicals. How can we make you see that your life is worth so much more? I pray each day that you will surrender your heart to God and let him heal you. I believe with every fiber in my body that only the Lord can save you, but you have to open your eyes. Everyone believes in something to help them get through the trail of this life because the happiest life isn't the easiest journey.
Happiness comes from within, so it all starts with facing your demons. You must begin by forgiving yourself and realizing the world is not out to get you; it just so happens we live in a cruel world. But you are not alone, and God is on your side. I will support your recovery in any way I can, but I will no longer let you take advantage of this family. Let Him save you.
You can beat it, and you are strong enough.
I will always love you more than you will believe. I hope one day we can have a semi-normal sibling relationship again. I have missed you for so long.
You can beat it, and you are strong enough.
But please, go help yourself.
Your Little Sister