A Picture From The Past

Ah, Thanksgiving. The day we are supposed to revel in the things we are thankful for. Today I will see a bajillion posts on Facebook from people talking about what they are thankful for. I have things to be thankful for as well; I have a home, my mom hasn't left me, and my sister is alive. When I was younger, I never understood why holidays were a sad time for people. As life continues and I get older, I now understand why people don't enjoy holidays. On holidays we're supposed to be surrounded by our families and reminisce on the good times we have had. Not everyone has that or is able to experience that.

Last night I got home from college and I decided to clean the house; a surprise for my mom since I am not able to do much for her since I am in school. As I was cleaning, I came across a picture of my sister and I. We are in Nevada I think, or maybe New Mexico ( I can't remember, it have been quite a while),  I'm about 9 and she is probably 7. This picture breaks my heart. I can't stop looking at it. She is holding my arm and has the biggest smile on her face. She is innocent. I am innocent.

I never thought my life would change so drastically on so many different levels, but I guess that was the thinking of my nine year old brain.

 

My sister  has been struggling with an addiction to Meth since the age of 13. It didn't start out with Meth though. When we moved back to Oregon, I was about 13 and my sister was 11. I went to the local high school as a freshman and my sister went to the the local middle school as a  seventh-grader. My family fortunately(at the time)/unfortunately (now) moved to a very, very small town. Needless to say, we were the new girls. I guess middle school is hell, and this middle school was no exception. Every day after school I would hold my sister as she cried in my arms. Kids at the school would chase her and throw rocks at her. Calling her names and physically harassing her was the only thing my sister got from school. Home life was starting to take a different path than what we were used to. My dad was unable to find a teaching job in Oregon, so that meant that only my mom was working. Things started going downhill pretty fast.
The story of my father is not important at this time, I will tell that later. My sister is what is important right now.
The middle of my sister's seventh grade year, she started drinking and smoking pot. In a weird way, I still wish that she was ONLY smoking pot. The naive 13 year old me thought the world was over though. My little sister getting the cops called to the school because she has a bong in her backpack. The word spread like wildfire and the constant teasing and harassment only got worse for both of us.

While my sister was struggling with pot, my dad was struggling with not having a job. He turned to alcohol. He is a very violent/crazy drunk. I had my ways of dealing with everything going on in the house, and so did my sister. At first she turned to boys. She had her first boyfriend years before I would have mine. Pretty soon she would start going to parties and popping pills. My dad was never a constant in the house, and when he was in the house things were very bad. My mom worked three jobs for the first year, so she was never home because there was no one else to support the family. I was the one to first watch my sister go down hill.

I watched my sister crawl up the stairs because she was so high she couldn't walk. I would walk through the cemetery at night to look for my sister because she was drunk. I would hold my sister's hair back as she would throw up in the toilet because she was too drunk to do it herself. I would break up the fights my sister would get in. I have watched my sister turn into a bag of bones, right before my eyes.  I was the one who had to tell my mom that I thought my sister was doing Meth.

 -----> I hope I have caught your attention, and I would like to mention something else before I continue:
My mom has done everything she possible can to take care of my sister and I. Unless you are living with us, unless you have gone through exactly what we have/are going through, there is no way it is alright to judge. I have grown up with people telling me that my mom is a horrible mom for letting her daughter get involved with drugs and for working so much.When you are poor there is not a lot you can do. People don't see what my mom has done for us, and that kills me. You make think you know what you would do if you were in my situation, but things change once you are actually put into the situation. Trust me.<-------

Drugs destroy. They destroy a family, relationships, life, and futures. My mom has done everything she could do. We have sent my sister out of State. My mom cut back work hours. The thing is, you can't stop someone from doing what they want.  Do I think my sister wanted her life to be ruined? No, but my sister wanted the holes that were being created in her heart to be filled up. My sister turned to drugs once people started hurting her. We all turn to something when we are hurt, but unfortunately sometimes those things end up hurting us more than the things we are going through at the time.

I could go on for hours about everything that has transpired since the first day my sister decided to do drugs, but I think that would be too much for right now.

You may be wondering what the hell this has to do with Thanksgiving:

I found a picture and it is bringing back painful memories. That's what this post has to do about Thanksgiving.

 Today is Thanksgiving and currently I am sitting here staring at a picture of my sister and I, while my sister is currently not home. Holidays have painful ties to the past. Holidays are lonely. Holidays suck. Even though my family has its problems, I love my mom and sister. I will not stop loving my sister. One day, she will get her life together. I pray for her every day. I have people at my college pray for her. My mom and I are trying to help her, but it is her choice to accept it.

I wanted the starting posts of my blog to be happy and light, but I don't want to lie to you about how my life is going. My life isn't always light and happy. I do know though that my life isn't the worst. I could be homeless, I could be getting raped every day. I am blessed that God has given me what he has.

Life isn't a competition, and our problems are not a competition I never want to sound like I'm trying to win a competition on "who's life sucks", but I want to be real.

Stay classy and drink your coffee, Oregon.

w/love,
Kela