addiction: still knocking to see if he’s ready for something better
Thursday, February 11 
Photo credit / Utne.com
This weekend we’re headed to Layton, Utah, to visit my family. My brother is flying in from New York City, and we’re planning to all go downhill skiing together, check out the annual eagle migration on the Great Salt Lake, cook big family meals, and watch the Winter Olympics. There’s one other thing on the agenda. I’m hoping my brother and I can drive down to Salt Lake City together and find our little brother, whom I’ve never written about before.
I haven’t seen and have barely spoken to him in 2 1/2 years, and my parents, who keep in touch with him every week, say he’ll either be at the Salt Lake City homeless shelter, or at another home that often takes him in. Making contact is tricky. My folks have given him phone cards and trac phones with minutes, but when he gets desperate, he sells the minutes. Lately they’ve communicated with him via email, as he can use the computers at the library for free.
Little brother is an addict, and at 32 years old now, has been for nearly half his life. There is a sad resignation for my family and me that comes with uttering his name. We’re all tired. We’ve been through so many ups and downs with him that sometimes emotional distance is survival.
I’ve been to homeless shelters and volunteered at food banks before, and when I see young people I find myself wondering, don’t these people have any family to help them? Well, if they’re like my brother they do, and those people have been there for them so many times only to see them right back where they started, that they’re exhausted.
For myself, I’ve provided shelter for my little brother when he was so fried he couldn’t string a coherent sentence together. I’ve visited him in the Bozeman city jail when he was coming off meth, shaking and pacing his cell like a caged cat. I’ve driven hours to Deer Lodge, where the Montana State Prison is, to visit him with my nursing son. And I’ve written him letters and driven all over the state of Montana trying to support him as he attempted various pre-release programs.
What I’ve done to be there for him over the years is just a sliver compared to what my parents have done to try and help him get right. And I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard them detail the hopeful signs they’re seeing, then tentatively help him a bit financially — buying him a couch, a bike, groceries, the basics — only to see it all sold on the streets, again and again.
When do you give up on someone, when do you lose hope? When do you excuse yourself from trying anymore? When do you throw your arms up in the air and say Damnit, I’ve tried. I’m done. I am so completely done.
For me and my family, this resignation ebbs and flows. But really, I don’t know if we’ll ever be done. When little brother calls my folks, it’s often some variation of letting them know he wants to be around family. But the bottom line is: he can be around us when he commits to rehab (again, for the nth time) and works to create a real life for himself. For now, he’s made his choice.
After years of this roller coaster, I hardly feel I know my little brother anymore. I was nine years old when he was born. The little brother I knew was physically adorable, funny, uniquely bright, hyperactive, and always a challenge for the adults trying to direct him.
In defense of him, there are people I’ve had a hard time not pointing my fingers at over the years: The 5th grade principal who (after typical 5th-grade boy misbehavior) branded little brother a bad kid and told him he’d go to prison someday; the Eat-a-Burger owner who gave him and other teenage workers meth to speed up production…I’m sure my parents have pointed the finger at themselves, wondering what they could’ve done differently. I’ve wondered too, especially as a parent of boys who share some genetic similarities to their uncle. And of course, I’ve felt the guilt of knowing that as I was separating myself from my family in my college years, I was self-absorbed and had very little interaction — positive or otherwise — with my little brother, at a time when it might’ve made a difference.
After all that looking back, we’ve all decided that little brother is a grown man now, responsible and accountable for his own choices. Now it seems that the question of how or why to keep contact with him has more to do with me than him. If little brother dies of addiction, will I be at peace with my own efforts or lack of them? I know I can’t change those who don’t want change themselves, but whatever happens to him, I want one thing to be clear: If he decides his current life isn’t working for him, he has a family willing to help. That’s why I want to find him. It’s time for a reminder.
Reader Comments (9)
Since you started this blog I've been waiting for this post. As usual, you write with compassion and an inner awareness that touches my heart. From the very first time I traveled to Salt Lake to meet y'all this issue has been front & center. Having experienced the trauma this issue is causing, both in person and hearing FavAuntie describe the two versions of your brother and seeing the sadness in her eyes as she does so, I can only imagine the pain all of you experience as you consider the "might have beens" and lost chances.
However, I have witnessed the strength all of you show, the compassion after getting kicked in the teeth over & over, the strength your family have in order to allow your love for your brother/son/nephew/uncle to outweigh your immense frustration. All of these go a long way to explain my feelings for each of you.
Keep the faith. The Universe can work in mysterious ways.
I was going to tell you how well this post humanizes a very messy topic that we'd all rather overlook, but that sounds so trite in the face of your hopeful, breaking hearts. I'll just say it's courageous.
All the best as you figure out what love looks like here. Hope D's doing well, too.
Wow, Megan. You write so honestly and courageously.... What a tough situation. I hope you come back from SLC with what you are looking for.
BrotherJohn: You've rendered me nearly speechless. Wow. Thanks for your kind words. From a NASA engineer, folks!
Cherilyn and Melynda: I'll let you know how it goes...He hasn't answered our email yet, but hopefully we'll be able to make contact. Thanks for the support.
May God bless you on your holy quest. I have tears in my eyes as I am reading your post today . Oh the heartbreak and the love. Tell oldest son we are praying for him. Hope the boys enjoyed their valentines. Say hi to the New York Uncles
You write with such grace and honesty about the most difficult topics. I admire your ability to tackle subjects that others would rather not even acknowledge. Thank you for sharing such a heartfelt story and I hope you are able to find your brother. He's very lucky to have a family like you all.
WOW. This is such a powerful post.
The father of my 6 year old daughter is an addict and has been in and out of jail/rehab. Finally a little over a month ago I decided that I am DONE. I've tried helping him. I've done what I could because I felt my daughter deserved her dad in her life. But I just can't do it anymore.
I applaud you for going to find your brother. You are a bigger person than I. I hope it all goes well for you and your family. *HUGS*
Thank you for sharing your story with me and several other readers out there. I do not have a family suffering from drug addiction. However, both of my parents have been smokers since they were in their teens. It has been a battle for them to quit. They have tried several times to quit and failed. I have given them literature, hid their cigarettes, cut up their cigarettes, only to have my Mom make me pay for the ones I cut up. Satan can have such a hold on good people with these nasty addictions. In my mind smoking is just as addicting and damaging as other addictions out there. So after many failed attempts for them to quit, I've learned to love the person and hate the habit/ addiction. A month ago my Mom found out she has breast cancer. Her and my Dad have both decided to quit smoking and to start going back to church. It's day 4 of their quitting journey and besides the irritability, they are doing great. God does answers prayers. I think that the cancer was a blessing. It's a terrible thing to have to go through, however, my parents got the wake up call they needed. Heavenly Father works in mysterious ways. They caught my Mom's cancer very early. She's having a lumpectomy on Monday followed by radiation. I'm grateful for trials in our life. I've realized that mine have made me a stronger person. I hope that you will have a happy ending with your brother. I can empathize with you on a small scale. Like I said, I haven't had a family member with this extreme of an addiction. I'll pray for your brother and your family that you will find continued peace and comfort through out this.
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