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The Trauma of Realization
It’s weird how something tragic could happen to you or your family when you were younger, and it has no effect on you until you’re older. Well, that happened to me. Call it tragic, unfortunate, bad circumstances, bad situation, whatever. What happened to my family could, and does, happen to other families on a daily basis. It’s a sad thing, because you’re whole life can change based on the actions of another person.
I still remember that first trip to the jail. I hadn’t known where we were going, or why we were going out so late. But my mom, dad, brother, and I all piled into the car and set off. When I asked where we were going, my dad just said, “To get your sister.” Okay… I could tell by his clipped tone of voice that I shouldn’t press for more.
That’s where my memory draws a blank. I’m pretty sure I had fallen asleep in the car, so my brother stayed in there with me. Or maybe it was just one of those times where your mind blocks out parts of a story from your memory. Whatever it was, I know there is a piece of my story missing. We got in the car to go get my sister, and then I remember waking up, her next to me in the backseat, sobbing (bawling actually), and hugging me. All the while, repeating constantly, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Courtney.” She apologized to me, my mom, my dad, and my brother. Of course I hadn’t understood her at first, as she didn’t wait to talk between sobs as a normal person would have.
Looking back on that night, I remember how confused I had been. I remember thinking that my sister was crazy. I mean, what did she have to be sorry for? I remember hugging her back, she was clutching me for dear life, and I just said, “It’s okay sissy, I love you.” As if love could solely fix this situation. But even at that age, despite my childhood innocence, I could tell that no one else in the car thought it was okay. I could just feel the tension in the air. I think that’s what confused me the most. As a kid, I didn’t know that kind of tension and hostility. And now that I look back on that night, knowing exactly what had happened, I know that it really wasn’t okay.
That night was the first of many confusing trips, in my childhood, spent to visit or get my sister. Many trips to drug rehabilitation centers, jails, etc. When I finally reached the age to realize and understand all of the things that had been happening over the years, and what was still happening, I got upset (to say the least). All of those years of confusion led to this, and all that confusion turned into sadness, anger, and disappointment. I felt as if I had been lied to for half of my life. I felt like my sister wasn’t my sister anymore. I felt as if I had never really known her. I thought all of my memories with her had been lies. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. I thought to myself, How could she do that to me? To our family? And worse, how could she do that to herself? The years of confusion however, had no dominance over the years that I faced of getting over the fact that my sister was a drug addict.
I still take it one day at a time. Some days I still feel a bit of resentment towards my sister. I still feel like she ripped my family apart. But most days I just don’t think about it. I’ve had time to come to grips. I’d be lying if I said I was completely over it, because it does still get to me on occasion. I have accepted the fact that I will never understand how someone so smart could do something so stupid, and make such stupid decisions. I have forgiven her, and my family has healed. But I will never forget what happened, a scar still remains. But overall, I am grateful. I realized that every dark cloud has a silver lining, and, sometimes, the darker the cloud, that brighter that lining will be. At first, my family suffered tremendously, but when we came back, we were stronger than ever. Although my sister wasn’t My brother became my best friend; we stuck together through it all, and pulled one another through. I also realized that I had learned from my sister’s mistakes. Because I saw the effects of drugs firsthand, I will never take them. I realize what a mistake it would be to destroy my life and wreck my family (again) because of one stupid decision, which isn't safe or legal. My sister has made me a stronger person, through her mistakes, I've learned how and why I should just say no. For that, I am truly grateful.
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