The Pain of Losing A Loved One: Part Two

How I got through the pain of losing my brother

Continuing from the first story about how I lost my brother, here is part two. How I got through the pain of losing him. It wasn’t a good way but it was the only way I knew how at the time. My mom did put me in counseling but it didn’t help. The only things that helped back then were drugs and alcohol, to numb the pain. I didn’t want to feel what I was feeling. I also wanted to do the things he did to keep his memory alive. It was stupid on my part because now I am an addict in recovery and he wouldn’t have wanted me to turn out this way. But, I was a stupid little teenager at the time and didn’t care about the future. I didn’t care about what happened to me then.

The day of his funeral, I told myself that I was going to follow in his footsteps and do everything he did. With one exception, graduate high school. My brother was the only one out of all three of us who graduated. My sister got pregnant at 16 and quit school and I dropped out in my junior year right before I turned 18. I dropped out because I was failing anyway since I had missed so much school from skipping all the time to get high and drunk. Plus, I really hated school. I convinced my mom to sign me out and move me out of town, so she did. I was going to have to go to school during the summer to make up for all of the days I missed. At the time, I didn’t want to do this. I went to get my G.E.D three times but quit every time before I finished. I guess it wasn’t meant to be. I know I can still do it but I don’t have the motivation for it. Besides, I don’t need a high school diploma to write online and make money. I have been doing it for 12 years now, and haven’t needed it once.

My brother probably turned over in his grave, as the saying goes, when I quit school. I feel bad that it happened because I would have disappointed him and I know I disappointed my mom. My dad could care less, but that is a whole different story that I will tell on here one day soon when I am ready. The story I wrote about my brother getting killed when I was 12 was hard enough and this one is equally as hard. Just as the next two will be hard as well because they are about other close family members who died when I was very young.

So, when I was just 12-years-old after my brother died, I decided to start smoking cigarettes, drinking as much alcohol as I could get my hands on, and smoking as much pot and doing other drugs, as much as I could get my hands on them. I popped a lot of pills when I was very young too and even when I got older. I developed a major habit with the pills and other things and had to start going to a clinic a few years ago. Now, I am addicted to the Suboxone that I am taking. I have an addictive personality and will get addicted to anything I try once.

I chose this way of life for myself. Now, I am majorly addicted to cigarettes and am having a hard time quitting. It has been 27 years since I started smoking, drinking, and doing drugs. I quit drinking in my early twenties because I told myself that it was time to grow up a little. Plus, I didn’t think the hangovers were worth it anymore. I had bad hangovers back then and would be sick until I drank more. It is very hard to force alcohol down your throat when you are sick from drinking too much the night before. However, that was the only thing that helped my hangovers. As the saying goes, hair of the dog. Meaning, to drink a beer or another type of alcohol to make yourself feel better. It sucked bad but I would force it to feel normal. Then, I would start drinking all over again because one was never enough for me back then. I haven’t drunk any type of alcohol in about 15 years and I am going to keep it that way. I wasn’t as addicted to it as I got to other things though, thank goodness! As for drugs and being addicted, that was harder to quit and I had to go to a clinic to get “better.” But I did and, although I will always be an addict, I am now recovering from my addiction side. Except for cigarette smoking. I am afraid I will never quit doing this because of how addicted I am.

I am afraid I will end up like my mother-n-law. Gone at 69 or younger. I will talk about how she died in another story soon.

The only way I knew how to ease the pain of losing my brother was to do these things. I am in no way making excuses for the things I did. I am just saying how stupid I was back then. Because being stupid, and acting stupid, when you are very young will have consequences on you as you get older.

How have you coped with the loss of a close family member? Share your thoughts.

I have been a professional writer for 14 years. I have a boyfriend and six dogs. Check out and subscribe:

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