I’ve never been one to talk about my sister and her addiction, except to my friends and some of my family. I always thought that holding it in and not speaking about it would make it go away, but it hasn’t. It’s been going on since I was 12 years old and here I am almost 21.
If I’ve learned anything the past couple of months is that I shouldn’t be afraid to speak about it. I shouldn’t be afraid to be honest with how I feel about what she’s done. I know there are people everywhere who may be going through the same thing that my family and I are, so that is one reason why I’m writing this—to help those who feel like they’re alone.
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The other reason I wrote this was to just get everything off my chest and trust me, it’s helped. This is how I feel. This is what I wish I could say to her. This is an open letter to my drug addicted sister:
Why? Why can’t this not be a thing that I have to worry about anymore? Why do I have to constantly be worrying about you, worrying whether you are dead or alive? Why do I have to be afraid to answer a phone call from our parents wondering if it’s going to be them saying that you overdosed? Just…why?
We were so close growing up. I completely idolized you and your friends. You were the best big sister and you were always there for me. We spent so many days just laughing and not having a care in the world. I wanted to be just like you.
But now? I just want my sister back. I want my niece’s mother and my parents’ daughter back. I want to laugh with you and tell you all of my secrets. I want to go to you for advice and have you as my maid of honor at my wedding one day. I want a normal relationship with you. I don’t want to have to worry about you or wonder when the shoe that is your life is going to drop.
You tore our family apart. For years, you turned our parents into monsters. I have never seen them so angry and mad at the world than when everything was going on with you. Your daughter is never going to know what it’s like to grow up with two loving biological parents. She idolized you as well and now she just cries. She thinks that there’s something wrong with her, that she’s not normal—and that breaks my heart.
You had to give up your son because you weren’t able to take care of him, which I commend you for. At least you knew that he deserved better, and he does. The past three years without him have been hell for me, so I can only imagine what it’s been like for you. But…I met him yesterday, sis. He’s the most beautiful and happy little boy in the world. Of course I couldn’t help but wonder “what if?” What if you would’ve kept him? What if you would’ve stopped doing drugs? What if I could’ve seen him grow the past three years? However, everything happens for a reason and I firmly believe that. He is being so well taken care of by two people who deserve his love the most. I thank God for them and the fact that they are the sweetest and most caring people and will always show your son nothing but happiness and love.
There are so many times when I’ve honestly thought that I hated you—and I still do, sometimes. You have caused our family and me so much grief. You’ve stolen from me, you’ve physically harmed me, but more importantly—you’ve emotionally scarred me. You’ve turned an optimistic person into a person who’s just waiting for the next bad thing to happen to her. You’ve taken my life away from me. You’ve made me afraid to open up to people, to let them know what you do because I’m too afraid they’re going to think I’m a bad person as well.
I know people say it’s not your fault when you’re under the influence of drugs. You once tried to describe to me what heroin makes you feel like. You said “It’s your best friend. When no one else is there for you, it is.” I just wish you would’ve realized that I was there for you, your daughter was there for you, we were all there for you. Your mind was just so messed up that you couldn’t grasp that.
I just don’t get how you could let it take over your life. If it makes you steal from your friends and family, lie, sleep with whoever you can, etc…why would you want anything to do with it? I don’t understand how you can let something so stupid control your life. How can you choose a drug over your child? How can you be okay with the fact that your daughter might lose her mother? Just…how? I don’t understand.
I hate the people that got you addicted in the first place, I hate how hard it must be to try to live without it, and I hate that I’ve had to live with this burden since I was twelve years old. Drug addicts don’t just ruin their lives, they ruin everyone’s who loves them.
I just wish that you would wake up and realize that being high isn’t worth it. It’s not worth losing your children over or your family or your friends. It’s not worth having to sleep on the street and have no job, no car, no house, no nothing. It’s not worth losing your life over!
I just want you back, I need you back. I’m tired of waiting for the day that the heroin takes your life. I’m tired of wondering what my life is going to be like without you in it. I’m tired of picturing your daughter bawling her eyes out at your funeral and never being able to recover.
I want to be family again, I want to be us again. I want my future children to know their aunt. I want to be proud of you and see you get clean and get your life together. I want my niece to have her mother. God, please just come back to us.
I say all of this as sit on my couch in my apartment in Los Angeles, where I constantly wonder if I’m going to have to leave this film program to attend a funeral, your funeral. It’s taking a toll on me and I just want you to wake up and realize that there is so much more to life than a needle finding a vein.
Come back to me, sissy. I love you.
