Content warning: this report mentions addiction and death
Chris was my big sister we were inseparable, she was my rock, my go to friend for advice, support or just a much-needed chat. We went everywhere together, did everything together and we drank together. We never saw any danger in that dinner time drink, but a few wines in the pub before we picked the kids up from school soon led to taking a bottle of vodka back to her house. The kids would all play together while we drank and put the world to rights.
Our drinking progressed quite quickly without us realising, it snuck up on us, it was very subtle. Before we knew we were drinking more often and in larger amounts, it had become a habit. Our families didn’t know what to do with us, they called us selfish for drinking too much, they assumed we could just stop if we cared enough about our loved ones, but we were too far gone, we were now dependant on alcohol and we couldn’t stop. We didn’t think we were harming anyone at the time but, in reality, we were dragging the entire family through our addiction. They felt every ounce of pain and despair as we did.
Me and our Chris were very loyal to each other, we nursed one another when going through bad withdrawals, we would sneak drink to each other behind our family’s back. There was a sense of honour between us, our sisterhood was solid, we were each other’s protector and defender. Even though deep inside we knew our lives were in tatters and we were heading for disaster we never spoke about it, not ever!!!
Then one day I received a call to say my sister had been found dead at home. She was finally rid of her demons and what a price to pay. So, I stand alone no big sister to hold my hand, no one to wipe my tears or lead the way. How did this happen? From those fun times at the youth club, dancing in our bedroom to the tunes on the radio. To a now sombre visit to the graveyard with flowers.
I haven’t grieved for her yet, but I know one day it will hit me hard, I’m not ready to deal with it right now, it will be too painful, and I don’t feel strong enough. I sometimes suffer with a type of survivor guilt too, something else I need to address, all in good time, yes? My big sister was taken from me by one of the most dangerous drugs in the world, we didn’t realise we were playing with fire, we didn’t know we’d get burned. Some addicts don’t Recover 😪
Very poignant and moving report Karen. For many of us who find a way out there are so many who sadly don’t. Thanks for sharing this.