This post technically belongs on the other blog that I have abandoned, but since it's pretty vacant over there (and since it's, unfortunately, impossible to separate this aspect of my family from the rest of my life), I figure I'll write it here.
My sister, the addict, had a relapse not too long ago.
Her one-year was supposed to be October 15, but (apparently) she didn't even make it.
I don't feel like going into details, but the short story is that all of this was sparked by the fact that my sister was starting to steal money again. Which is infuriating.
"She's going to go after your pills next," I warned my mom. "Stealing is stealing, and if she'll take money, she'll take meds."
And what do I wake up to this morning?
A phone call from Dave letting me know that it happened. My shithead addict sister stole pills from my sick mother.
She took 60 Ativan, like that would go unnoticed. My mom called her, furious, and unleashed a tirade unlike any other. She's a very laid-back person, but this kind of despicable behavior really fuels the fury.
Sister then told my mom that she took the pills to try to kill herself.
Happy holidays, ya'll. My sister is suicidal.
While I do believe that my sister is self-medicating, I'm not sure if she wants to die. Actually, I think she'd rather make money. I don't know the street value for Ativan, but I can tell you from experience that it is some powerful shit. Since my sister was fired from her job around Thanksgiving, she needs another income. If I had to guess, I'd say she's taking an Ativan or two each day and selling some of the others. (If she was just taking them for herself, she could have stolen one at a time and my mom would never know.)
Sister then declared that she wanted to be checked into a facility. Does she want help or is she trying to escape responsibility? Is she trying to avoid dealing with my family? Is she actually suicidal?
These are things you never know with an addict. You can't trust them. And you do feel guilty for that, but it's the reality.
Part of me feels like I should be keeping this entirely private, but I look at this blog as something for me to look back on later and reflect on these parts of my life. Addiction is a part of that, and as much as I'd like to brush it under the rug and pretend it's not there, it is.
Now, I know the holidays are the toughest times for an addict. The chaos, the family time, the expectations -- it's overwhelming for them and it brings back the urge to use. I hate that. I hate that just being around us is enough to send her back into the throes of addiction. But what I really hate is the fact that she is SO selfish, SO sick, SO pained that she has no problem stealing my mom's pills. How do we fix that? How does she?
Maybe Santa will bring us some peace in 2010.