If there is one thing I hope your mind remembers after each needle pierces your veins it is how much I love you. As I watch this drug destroy you and everyone around you, I start to crumble. I wonder where my sister has gone. Every part of me wants to give up on you, but the memories of us linger in my mind and I want nothing more than my sister back. My best friend. It’s strange to think there was a time you were normal because I’ve been dancing with the devil for so long I’ve almost forgot.
I wish I knew the way your mind thinks, but I’m starting to understand why it’s called the devils drug, because only the coldest people can do the things you have done; said the things you have said. When we lost you to Meth, everyone lost something. I lost my sister. Keeper of my secrets. Your children lost a mother, your husband lost a wife, our parents lost their daughter. I guess apart of me will always feel like you’ll never be back, not really anyways. Your brain is dying and your once funny humor has been taken over by selfies that only show a shell of who you once were. It worries me how you think you look so good yet your hair is falling out. I wonder if you even notice. Your Facebook is flooded with quotes from all hours of the night as the thoughts in your brain are your new reality.
The monsters in your mind are making you think we are conspiring against you. But, we are rooting for you. We are hoping you see a glimpse of light in the darkness that surrounds you before it completely consumes you. I hate that I can’t stand the person that you are because I remember the person that you were. Truth be told, I do not understand addiction. I don’t understand how you can smoke meth in a bathroom while your kids wait outside in some strangers cracked out house. I don’t understand how you can lose everything and not give a damn about a single person around you. But crave the feeling of meth coursing through your veins. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND IT. You don’t understand just how badly I want to though. Would it change the way I think about you? Would it help me be able to help you? Would it tell me the secret to fix your delusions? Would it bring my big sister back to me?
I remember you used to say that you don’t have an addictive trait, so it wouldn’t happen to you. Now look, it’s been over 2 years and you get worse as everyday passes. Between the sadness of losing you over these last couple years there has been so much anger and it makes me so infuriated that you even hold that power over me and I’m struggling with the thought of seeing the ending as your funeral. I may not be a drug addict but I love one and that in itself is it’s own task.
You say addiction is hard. I wish you knew how damn hard it is to love you. To love the addict I should say, because I don’t love you. I love who you used to be and I have to have hope that the person you once were will come back one day. One day when your family means more than getting your next fix. So sister, I will continue to love the person you once were. I will fight all the monsters away, and relentlessly search for my sister and pray to God when I reach her that she is still there, waiting for someone to save her.