So my brother showed up at my door about two hours ago, dead drunk. I'm seriously not sure how he was able to walk, let alone find his way to my apartment. He had been drinking since the night before and had gotten into a fight with the girl who was driving him home, so he got out of her car in Green Hills and walked over here. Then he proceeded to pull an unopened fifth of whiskey out of his pocket and get through half of that in the half hour or so he was here. He finally left, in search of "fun people", and I called my parents and we all went out looking for him. My dad found him and took him home, and he's sleeping it off.
I don't really know why I feel the need to put this out here for all of you to read, except that I just don't know how to process it all, really.
First and foremost, he needs your prayers. As do the whole family.
Right now, I'm mostly just pissed. He knows he has a problem, he knows he has a sickness, and he does this anyway. I was so scared that he was going to walk into the street in front of a car, or worse, an MTA bus, or that he was going to go walk into some random person's house and get himself arrested. He wasn't even aware of what time it was, and kept apologizing for keeping me awake, and told me I could go on to bed if I wanted, he'd be fine. At 1:00 in the afternoon. And I know that tomorrow he won't even remember that he was ever here. At least he kept telling me how much I meant to him, and (ala Jo March) that he didn't love anyone as much as his sisters.
To top it all off, I had a bee crawl through the hole between my screen door and sliding door and get into my apartment. In case you didn't know, I'm allergic to bees, wasps, and hornets. As in could-die-if-stung, carry-a-shot-with-me-at-all-times allergic. I opened the sliding door all the way, and the little bugger buzzed his way back outside, but it freaked me out.
It's just been one of those afternoons.
And in all of this, I am reminded so strongly of the grace of God, that we are where we are now. For as bad and frightening as today was, he is doing a lot better now than he was several years ago, when he was also using assorted harder substances. He is so much happier and stronger now, and yet he still has this one area where sin/satan/depression/self-loathing can get a foothold and drive him to drink like he does. But I'm grateful that it's all there is.
I know that I am getting through this (this meaning the last 15 years or so) only through God's power and grace. I am not strong enough to do this alone, but I know I am strong enough to get through this with Him, because I have before. And it is through His beneficence that I have the friends and family (both real-world and blog-world) to talk to about these things.
Things are calm, for now. We're all going to have to take turns working at the store the rest of the day, as the shifts weren't covered already, and on top of this, someone has to stay with my brother to make sure he's safe until he sobers up some. I'm sitting here in the quiet, alone, praying, and while it's not happy or good, it's okay.
I don't really know why I feel the need to put this out here for all of you to read, except that I just don't know how to process it all, really.
First and foremost, he needs your prayers. As do the whole family.
Right now, I'm mostly just pissed. He knows he has a problem, he knows he has a sickness, and he does this anyway. I was so scared that he was going to walk into the street in front of a car, or worse, an MTA bus, or that he was going to go walk into some random person's house and get himself arrested. He wasn't even aware of what time it was, and kept apologizing for keeping me awake, and told me I could go on to bed if I wanted, he'd be fine. At 1:00 in the afternoon. And I know that tomorrow he won't even remember that he was ever here. At least he kept telling me how much I meant to him, and (ala Jo March) that he didn't love anyone as much as his sisters.
To top it all off, I had a bee crawl through the hole between my screen door and sliding door and get into my apartment. In case you didn't know, I'm allergic to bees, wasps, and hornets. As in could-die-if-stung, carry-a-shot-with-me-at-all-times allergic. I opened the sliding door all the way, and the little bugger buzzed his way back outside, but it freaked me out.
It's just been one of those afternoons.
And in all of this, I am reminded so strongly of the grace of God, that we are where we are now. For as bad and frightening as today was, he is doing a lot better now than he was several years ago, when he was also using assorted harder substances. He is so much happier and stronger now, and yet he still has this one area where sin/satan/depression/self-loathing can get a foothold and drive him to drink like he does. But I'm grateful that it's all there is.
I know that I am getting through this (this meaning the last 15 years or so) only through God's power and grace. I am not strong enough to do this alone, but I know I am strong enough to get through this with Him, because I have before. And it is through His beneficence that I have the friends and family (both real-world and blog-world) to talk to about these things.
Things are calm, for now. We're all going to have to take turns working at the store the rest of the day, as the shifts weren't covered already, and on top of this, someone has to stay with my brother to make sure he's safe until he sobers up some. I'm sitting here in the quiet, alone, praying, and while it's not happy or good, it's okay.
You are dear to me. I hurt for you. I love you and your family dearly. Praying for all of you.
There is a nugget for a story in here, somewhere, between the bee and the brother.
I love you, Tiff! I'm so sorry you are hurting. God is good and He will be there for your family. I'm praying for you.
courageous post. The bee is a great simile btw..you've landed on a great possibility there.
Having dealt with this in my own family, I emphathize with your struggle here. Best advice I've ever heard on this topic: set good boundaries.