My sister’s story- the life of a heroin addict.

I am posting this here because it is honestly the only place I feel I could talk about it openly without judgement.

I suppose I will start with the girl she once was. She was born December 18, 1992. She was a sweet little girl with the cutest smile. She used to walk around the house holding her Winnie the Pooh, which was bigger than her for a while. She still has that Winnie the Pooh. She used to watch Barney over and over again singing the “I love you” song. We used to go camping every summer and she was always happy but she was too young to remember what I do.

Sure we didn’t have the best family; I’ll admit it was quite unstable. I didn’t grow up with her, I was sent to live with my grandparents when she was about 5 years old. I did go there every weekend until she was about 8 years old. Her father (my ex step father) was/is an alcoholic. My mother was never fit to be a mother; she tried more to be a friend. They got divorced when she was about 8 years old and he left. She never spent time with her father and he barely visited. My mother struggled with depression and self-mutilation.

They moved one last time and my mother worked a full time job. My brother and sister grew up as “Latchkey” kids. My mother, out of guilt, never implemented any rules or discipline. I am eight years older than my sister. I tried to guide her but due to the age gap she didn’t seem to relate to me as much as she did my other sister. She is 6 years older than my sister.

Five years ago, when my sister was 18 she was introduced to Heroin. She was so young. She, of course, had been drinking and smoking before she was 18. Again she was never disciplined… my mother caught her smoking and she would get a car. My mothers’ guilt consumed her and she felt, because my sister didn’t grow up with a father, that she had to make up for it.

These last five years have been a nightmare. I’ve watched my sister go in and out of dozens of rehabs. I’ve watched my younger brother (born in 1994) struggle while my mother attended to all of my sisters needs and he got shafted. Luckily he has led a straight and narrow path. He is presently in the military and moved states away but no matter how far away you get it still affects you.

My sister met a man (he was the same age as me) and he was also an addict. My mother always said he introduced my sister to the drug. She became pregnant at 19 and had my nephew in 2012. I was told she was clean the entire pregnancy. He is a beautiful three year old boy.

About a year ago his father overdosed. He was found on a motel room floor, alone in his own vomit. He was 29. He could have had a happy life raising his two sons (he had another from a previous relationship) but instead they are now without a father.

Fast forward to 2015…. My mother has had custody of my nephew since he was about 3 months old. She has continuously let my sister move back to their apartment, even when she was using. My nephew has lacked stability and was not in a safe environment. DSS has always been involved; I have learned that the system just doesn’t seem to work. They are overloaded due to the Heroin epidemic in Massachusetts.

My sister went to a rehab in Texas. There was an altercation because she kissed a man. She became aggressive and alleged that one of the men working there pushed her. She checked out early. As you must know an addict can be very manipulative and will say anything for your sympathy. My mother always hoped for the best and believed her… I never did.

She came back from Texas and went to a halfway home. She was clean for a total of 22 days and then began using again. That was a little over a month ago. In one month she is now back to shooting 4 bags of Heroin a day. My mother gave up custody of my nephew today and he moved in with his father’s mother. My sister in on a plane to a rehab in FL for 30 days; I wish I could say I have faith that this time it will work…. But I don’t.

I know first-hand the effects of Heroin. I’ve seen it tear apart my family. My entire family… we don’t celebrate any holidays together anymore. My kids will never know what we used to have when the family got together, all the cousins playing while we waited to hunt for Easter eggs or open Christmas presents. I’ve watched my mother and siblings suffer. My mother wears the stress all over her body; it has affected her mentally and physically.

My little brother, only 20 years old, lived with this for 4 years until he went into the service last year. He still deals with it every day through phone calls or messages. The weight and stress hangs on his shoulders and he is too young to have to bear that weight. My nephew is only 3 years old. He has already lost his father and for all intents purpose has lost his mother too. He has been taken out of his home and has to start all over again. No child deserves that. I am hopeful that this change will at least help him. He is finally away from it all.

Heroin addiction is hell for everyone around an addict. We suffer every day; I chose to suffer in silence. I am not proud to say that my little sister is a Heroin addict. All you get is people saying “I’m so sorry” or “that sucks.” I am not proud that I honestly don’t think my sister will recover. We have been through this so many times and I don’t see a happy outcome. My sister is manipulative. She is not the sister I once knew. She is not the little girl that used to carry around her Winnie the Pooh and smile from ear to ear.

I have accepted that I can’t save her, you can't save someone because they need to save themselves. Call it a disease, call it a choice. Everyone has their own term for it. Some people blame genetics, others say there is no excuse. I honestly don’t know but I do know that my sister may be alive but she is gone.

After today I figured I would share the story. I know there are so many people out there dealing with the same issue, addiction… whatever substance it may be. Addiction affects everyone. Each of us knows someone that knows some with an addiction. It has taken over our communities and taken away our loved ones.

I fear the next time I write about my sister… it will be her obituary; she is only 22 years old.

We have an epidemic on our hands, I don’t need to raise awareness; it is all over the news and social media. My reason for this post is not to hear people that they are sorry but it is to those of you, like me, that don’t talk about it, please know that you’re not alone; we are not alone.

If anyone wants to share their stories or find support... it might be nice to have an outlet.