Sunday, August 4, 2013
My Views On Drugs And Alcohol
But, as hard as that was for me to deal with, the horrible feelings I have when I hear about drugs is not even comparable.
I've mentioned before that I'm the oldest of seven children. Also that I was homeschooled. Well, not long after myself and my brother next in line finished our coursework and graduated... my Mom had it up to here with homeschooling. I can see that as being understandable. She was teaching seven children all by herself. First she sent the 5 younger siblings to a Christian school, hoping that would be less of a culture shock for them. But, the teachers at this school were horribly abusive and would call on Jesus name as their excuse for their behavior! My parents were both highly offended and my 5 younger siblings asked to go to public school instead.
I'm not saying that this happens to every child that goes to public school. Or to every child that is homeschooled and then goes to public school. But, all 5 younger siblings fell in with a bad crowd. Every single one started participating in drugs. At first it was 'just' weed. But, one thing led to another with them and soon my brother and I knew they were into some hardcore stuff, but we didn't know what. I must add here, that my youngest sister escaped getting into anything harder than weed, but even that disappoints me.
We tried to talk to our Mom, but her new parenting motto was to let them sow their wild oats and get it out of their system. And we watched in horror as they just got worse and worse and worse.
I had never gotten into that, so aside from the legal implications, and the social implication I didn't know much else about drugs. I knew some would speed you up and some would slow you down and I had a good idea which ones were which. but that was absolutely it.
One day I was out of town and one of my brothers called me. He asked if it would be okay for him to come to stay with me for awhile. I rushed to my Mom's house as fast as I could. My Mom threw my brother's stuff into the back of my car and said "If you can't handle him, no one can." In confusion we drove away. This brother was 19 at the time and so he should have been well able to manage life on his own. But, he was into a lot of drugs, we just didn't know what.
The day after he moved in with me I found out, just what. Heroin. I broke down in tears and begged him to stop. He told me he wanted too, but he always found himself going back to it. I to him to the local clinic that day and they told us it was a three days wait to get him in for out patient care. He didn't have insurance and the in patient clinics in the area are so full the wait would have been much long. Surely we had three days!
That evening he went out with a girl he liked. When he came home he stumbled through the door apologizing like crazy. I could barely make out his words. He had taken Heroin again. I helped him to his room and put my hand on his chest. I was unsure what to do. I didn't know how any of this was supposed to work. The girl put her hand next to mine and said "Nice, strong, heartbeat." I asked her if she was sure and she nodded and left. My brother weakly raised his head and asked for coffee. I helped him stumble into the kitchen and made him a mug while he laid on my kitchen floor. He couldn't drink it out of a mug so I dug around and found a sippy cup for him and poured the coffee into that. He laid back and sipped on the coffee like a baby and I looked down at him enraged. "We will talk about this in the morning!" I yelled. I ran into my room and slammed the door.
The next morning when I woke up I thought it was odd he didn't get up before me like he usually did. He usually got up and cleaned the house and cooked me breakfast. I figured the drugs probably made him sleepier than normal.
My phone rang and it was my cousin saying she just heard that I was the only one that would take my brother in out of the entire family. She told me she was proud of me for stepping up. Whatever, that's what family is supposed to do, right?
I got up and went into the kitchen and the sight of what I saw was too gruesome to relate in detail on this blog. Your welcome.
I knelt next to him and felt his chest. Not only did I not feel a rise and fall, but it felt rock solid. Frozen if you will. I shook him and begged him to wake up, but there was nothing. I pulled his iphone out of his pocket, but at the time I didn't know how to work a smartphone, and my phone could only receive calls, not make them. ( I was out of minutes).
I ran outside in my pajamas and beat on the neighbor's door begging for help. I still refused to believe what I knew to be true and I begged for help reviving my brother. The young man next door was in Nursing school and came to help me out. He told me he was pretty sure there was nothing to do, but called 911 for me just in case.
When they came out it was confirmed that my brother had passed. And yet all I could think was that it was somehow a cruel joke. It was March 31st, 2009 after all. Maybe he was just pretending and would jump up in a moment and yell "April Fools! I got you!" but it never happened.
Not long after my brother died my sister after him took up with another drug just as deadly... Crack. I am of course very angry with her for making the choice to turn to such a heavy drug right after losing our brother. She was into drugs before, but nothing that hard.
How do I feel about drugs? I'm disgusted that such a thing exists. I'm agree that more and more people are lead to try such a thing every day. And, I try to learn all I can about how drugs effect the human body now, because if I were given a chance to go back and relieve that day, I would have rushed him to the hospital like I should have done in the first place.