I finally started going to counseling to help cope with my brother's addiction. I only wish that he would do the same, but it's the only thing I have found left that's still in my control. I don't know how to feel anymore or what to do. I've been holding on to all this resentment, anger, extreme sorrow, and I honestly feel like he's dead and gone. It has completely taken over certain aspects of my life. It's made me an angry, bitter person because other families get to be happy and healthy, and mine can barely make it through the next 24 hours. It's made me unmotivated to truly do anything in my life for fear I might miss the one moment he needs me or makes a change in his life. I used to be this fun, outgoing and very driven individual, but somewhere along the way I've fallen off track in this journey to save my brother. It completely consumes me sometimes. It manifests itself in ways that totally push people out of my life. This constant worry and stress causes me to lash out on the people I care about the most, and ultimately change who I am as a person. At this point, I'm struggling with the realization that my brother's future is either dying alone or spending his life in prison. I'm not sure what I'm looking for anymore, but instead of just talking to someone and trying to make them understand, I'd rather someone talk to me for once. I'd rather someone talk to me and I listen. I need someone to tell me how to feel, how to love an addict without killing them, how to not have nightmares of seeing him with needles in his arms, how to not look through old photos of us as kids with him sitting in my lap and completely fall apart. I need someone to talk me through this. My parents are just as clueless as I am, my best friend is wonderful and truly tries to be there for me but it's nothing I haven't heard before "It's not your fault", "It's not him, Michelle; it's the drugs," etc., My boyfriend of 3 years had unfortunately met me in the very beginning of this mess and even more unfortunately, saw me transform into this person I never wanted to be. There's only so much support a person has to give and eventually time runs out. My brother's addiction has consumed my life in more ways than one. I'll never forget who he was and who he could have been. I never knew how important those moments would be when we were younger until our relationship became a memory.

Everytime I see headlights, I hold my breath hoping it's him coming home. Will I hold onto this anticipation forever?

I can't even remember the last conversation I had with my little brother. I don't remember if we were fighting. Was he asking me a favor? Did he need a ride? Money? Did he call to ask for help? Was he needing advice? Was it all of the above? I have no idea.

Although I never admit it to anyone, my biggest fear is that he will be at the end of his life, replaying moments in his head, all alone wondering why he had no one. It keeps me up at night sometimes, it keeps me close to home, it keeps me from ever really writing him off after everything he's done.

My family has washed their hands of him, and rightfully so. Three and half years later, I am still writing on my worthless internet blog about my missing little brother. Missing in the sense that I don't know him anymore. Missing because he looks right through me. Missing because he chooses this neverending high over our relationship. Missing because I doubt he knows how to ever stop just treading water.

Today my dad told him to never contact him ever again. My dad being his absolute last safety net, he gave him his car and told him to never come back. My dad said he was crying when he told him. He left a few hours ago with the car and didn't tell anyone he was leaving. No one's heard from him, which is expected, but it's storming, it's dark, and my mind is racing.

I'm wondering what's on his mind. What is he thinking right now? Where is he? Is he ok? Is he sad or just numb? Is he hurting? Did he drive off when he was still crying and upset? Does he feel so hopeless and alone that he'll try to take his life again? My mind is racing with the horrifying possibilities.

I can't help but cling to this person he used to be. I've never missed anything this much in my entire life. Not my Grandpa, not Papaw, not Mallory, not my youth, not my parent's marriage, not even the only man I've ever loved. I don't know how to deal with this hollow feeling of loss.

My biggest worry right now is that I may never see him again. It's completely selfish, but I can't handle him not knowing how much his big sister loves him. No matter how much I hate the things he does, no matter how many times he steals, lies, deals, sells, etc., I can never let go. I never thought my dad would either, but after today, am I alone in holding out hope that my brother will eventually come back to us?

I know deep down my parents will never stop loving my brother, but that sense of hope, that rally our family had going for his life, that never-ending determination has faded, and I've never felt so alone.

Through all of this, I've truly learned how impossible it is to fight for a life that isn't your own. I remember when I was 18, and he was 12, I wondered what he would be like when he was 18. I'm not sure why, but you view yourself as an adult and it's so hard to imagine this little annoying pest as anything but that, but I was always curious what kind of person he would grow up to be.

Eighteen has come and gone for him, and of course he's nothing like I had imagined. I love him regardless, but he's a stranger now. I would give anything to be 18 again, to have him follow me in my bedroom and ask me to show him how to fix his hair for school tomorrow morning.

The smallest things never seem to have significance until they become a memory. I wish I would have noticed the significance 7 years ago.

I know I'll never be able to full move on with my life until I know he's alright. This will haunt me for years to come, but I know one day he will no longer suffer.

My life's greatest joy would be to watch my brother become the person he was always meant to be. Until then, I will fight for the impossible. A life that isn't my own.

Please come home, Anthony. I miss you and love you.

you never were very good and hide and seek.

come find me.

xxx

What direction is my life headed? I've been having these horrible nightmares of my brother shooting himself, and I wake up somedays so frightened and miserable, and then there are the mornings where I'm just a little sad it wasn't me. I desperately need someone to listen to. I don't need anyone to hear my life and my sob story. Just need someone to talk to me, tell me a story, remind me that my life isn't so bad. Remind me what my purpose is again. Remind me what it feels like to laugh at a bad joke, really laugh at a funny one. Remind me what it feels like to be wickedly drunk and dancing. Remind me that beyond the daily routines, I used to want to travel. I used to have a heart for others, a passion for feeling involved, and an absolutely insatiable hunger for forgetting about my life to help others better theirs. Remind me what it feels like to cry because you're just so damn happy with where you are in that exact moment that you can't help salty cheeks.

For now, it's back to the grind. If only.

i'm going to nashville for the weekend. i'm bringing my cowgirl boots, my accent, and my plaid. i'm not bringing any memories, any baggage, and certainly leaving my heartache at home. i need a weekend to completely let my hair down, unwind, and have just a brief second where i can breathe and forget about my life.

eventually i will have to let this all fade behind me, but i'm not ready to let go just yet. i know it will all still be here when i get back, so this weekend i plan on drinking an outrageous amount, smiling, and making some bad decisions.

i love you little brother, and i'll always be here when you finally come home to us. i still believe in you and love you more than you could ever imagine possible.

when does enough become enough? how long do you hold on before you finally loosen your grip?

i told him today that i couldn't continue to be in his life if he continued using. i tried to be so strong, so convincing.

"michelle, let's just be honest. i don't plan on stopping. so, i guess this is goodbye."

so what do you do when someone chooses drugs over choosing a relationship with you? you try to move on, right? you try to hold your head high and know that this is isn't about you, that it never was, and you try to continue your own life to the best of your ability, right? isn't that what you do when a drug addict chooses their addiction over the only person who has never given up on them, the one person who couldn't live without them?

his life wasn't supposed to be like this. neither was mine. my family is completely torn apart, and i'm trying so hard to hold it together to get through the daily routine. but just one more stone thrown my way, and this glass shell i've built will shatter and crumble in an instant.

his life has shown me how fragile time is. how quickly it comes and goes, because i used to think i knew what sorrow was, that i had had my time for grief, but this blows everything else away.

my heart aches through to my bones. i wonder what he's thinking? is he crying somewhere like me? is he missing me already like i'm missing him? is he wishing things had been different and wondering where they all fell apart?

i know i've been so naive the past 3 years. i started this "journey" being 21 years old, watching my 15 year old brother struggling to survive in an ICU while we all held our breath. I'm not sure of the exact date that he started this journey. when he take his first hit? did he hesitate to truly think of the consequences or did he just dive right in and never look back? when he almost took his life, what did he think about? did i cross his mind? even for a brief second? or what about my dad, did he think about him? was he scared?

was he scared that his attempt didn't work? or was he scared that it would work and actually kill him? was he scared of what it would feel like? is he still scared for when that moment comes? he hasn't stopped trying since then, but i know that if he truly wanted out, he would find a way.

i'm terrified for when that day comes. if i'm honest with myself, i know that eventually he will succeed. he will get his wish, and he finally be at peace, if that's even what he's looking for.

and if i'm honest with myself, i wouldn't even know where to begin.