I celebrated my first sobriety birthday September 7th. My sister is six years younger than I. I’m the first daughter born to a freshly 16 year old. For the first few years of my life I would long for her while she went and tried to build a foundation. Her mom would never let me go with her, would threaten to take custody. That was never the story I was fed. Right before elementary school my mom and I moved into our first apartment. While getting groceries for the first time her friend introduced her to a man. I immediately didn’t trust him(my intuition almost tells the future by reading people’s heart) That man came to be my sister’s dad. For the first 3 years of her life I would take care of her while my mom was at school and work and her dad was there but not present. Many nights I held her in a corner with my ghetto blaster blaring so she couldn’t tell why we were in there. She would smile and laugh thinking my whisper screams were some type of theatre production.
Needless to say our bond is as tight as one could be. Eventually we moved as a family across the country. My new step dad has to deal with imagination so my mom has to go back. Taking my sister. I remember the talk and that it would only be for a few months, I didn’t want to start in middle school across country at the end of first semester. They didn’t come back for almost a decade. As the delusion goes I spent those years rebelling for no reason. Really I was really hurt. Again it felt I wasn’t wanted by the one person I’d do anything for them to see me. My sister spent those years growing up thinking I didn’t want to be with her and my mom. My mom and my grandmother would fight in the background my grandmother threatening to ss if my mom took me back.
Trauma really kicked off when I spent my sweet sixteen in the hospital for an s/a kit and chatting with detectives. Insert the reckless drug addiction that ended 12 months and 13 days ago. Needless to say my sister who I love more than life. Who I spent my early years mothering when I hardly knew what moms did was typically hurt or disappointed in me, helped me more than I did her during her adolescence.
She came to get my medallion, gave me this card and tbh the most valuable win in this warfare with addiction is the idea that shes actually starting to be proud.
