I Never Gave Up On My Brother, and That Meant the World to His Daughter

Being the one addicted to drugs is just as hard as watching a loved one being taken hostage by them. I was in the latter category. My brother is an incredible individual full of love to give and had everything he could have wanted as a child. What he didn’t think that he had enough of, was love.

My brother started dealing drugs in High School. It was his way of fitting in, of being cool enough to hang with the most influential crowd, of feeling wanted, and of having the attention that he felt was missing from his own life. Soon after, he started using what he was selling and became addicted. I watched everything as it happened.

I’m 3 ½ years younger than he is and I slept in the bedroom next to his. I would hear every negotiation, plan, and conversation he had with his friends. At the age of 10, I didn’t know what to think.

Now I know what he was giving them was poison, but he still had the science down enough to educate the person on what they could take, how much of it, and what to do if they had possibly taken too much. He cared. He thought he was doing it because it was wanted, he was wanted.

The confusion of what he was doing became too much, his reality became unbearable, and the situation at home a nightmare. He didn’t know who he was anymore and got lost in the parties, music and superficial world he thought cared for him as much as he cared for them. He started draining himself and consequently felt emptier. He needed that next fill, to numb the pain of reality and become whole again. In order to support his addiction, he started stealing from my parents, things that would go unnoticed at first, and ultimately, too far.

When the house was cleaned out of options his next place was my father’s business. They shared the same name so it was easy for him to get access to all company accounts. My father’s debts became overwhelming and he wouldn’t pay for the things he never even purchased. He either had the option to press charges or keep the debt. My father didn’t have the heart to see his child in jail so he chose ruined company credit instead.

At this point, his only option was to rob another store for money. One that didn’t have the heart to not press charges. Now my brother’s addiction was becoming a financial burden to everyone around him. No one knew what to do with him. No one wanted him, no one could trust him. So, he was shipped off to military school, and eventually, even they didn’t want him.

I will never forget the night he was kicked out of our house. The police were involved, and my father finally said to take him away. I couldn’t tell you how long my mother and I stood there, hoping his next words were to take it back. The cop hesitated, watching the shock and tears fill everyone’s eyes, but once my father closed his eyes to let the tears fall out, the cop knew he wasn’t going back and took my brother with him.

Since I had always been watching my brother from afar, listening to him, and knowing his next moves. I felt like I knew him. The real him. I didn’t look at him like everyone else did. I didn’t judge but rather I was just there. I turned 15 and I was old enough for him to tell me his secrets directly. I was the person he trusted to get him out of trouble. To tell mom and dad that he wasn’t so bad, to tell them that he could still be loved and to trust him. He was going to change. I became the person who would save him from the world he didn’t want to be in. We would go to different programs offered by the state, new friends, rehabs, if it existed we tried it. Nothing would help.

Eventually, I went to college and he continued down his dwindling spiral. We were connected only at times he needed to be bailed out. I didn’t know how much more of it I could take so I tried distancing myself too. I was in Spain one summer when I received a call with words I had never heard him say before. And for the first time, I knew this time it was different. He said to me:

“Alicia, I know you don’t believe in me anymore but please believe me when I tell you that if you don’t help me, I know that I will be dead by next week, I don’t know how to save myself and I have tried everything I could—I don’t know who I am anymore, please don’t let me die”.

So many things ran through my mind, “But we’ve tried everything, he has a daughter now, he was going to get married soon, this can’t be the end, what will mom and dad think? Would they blame themselves? Would I bare the idea that I had failed him?” The last thing that I thought was “wait, there is just one thing we haven’t tried, what’s that program called? Narconon?”

I vaguely remember reading an article about a program that explained exactly why people couldn’t get off drugs and remained addicted. It was almost physically impossible. He didn’t just need to decide to get off drugs, to try different steps to make it up the mountain, he needed to get RID OF THEM, fully every ounce of it and never look back. That second, I knew this was it, we were going to make it go right. I only hoped that he was strong enough to hold off until I got back. I started making calls, finding out more ways that I could make this happen for him. And we did it.

He finished the program and needed to get out and rebuild his life. Sadly, too much damage had been done. The mother of his child didn’t want him near her. My mother and father could never go back to trusting him, so we kept fighting the fight to rebuild his life, to rebuild Hector with no added words to describe him. Just him. Going down is easy and seemingly too fast. Rebuilding may take some time, but I recently received a text message saying:

“Now I understand why you’ve fought so hard for him all these years… aside from being siblings. He really does have a big heart… You put a lot of blood, sweat and tears to see this side of your brother emerge again and I’m so thankful that you did! Bella has needed and wanted him in her life and to know that he can be the dad she’s always wanted him to be is priceless… and it makes me love you that much more!!! You’ve moved mountains to see him succeed in life and that is the best gift you could’ve ever given him. I admire that you never gave up and continued to fight for him, even when it seemed hopeless. You are a wonderful little sister and I’m so happy that you stood by him the way you did… even if I didn’t understand it at the time… I truly do now! Thank you for giving Bella the gift of having her true daddy back. No words could ever express how grateful I am for what you’ve done.”

Ending this article with tears in my own eyes, I want to say to anyone out there who is the person looking for answers on how to help someone going through drug addiction, that there is a reason why you are doing this. You know this person can make it, you believe in who they are, and because you believe in them they trust you for your help, they trust you to give them the answers they cannot find with their current cloudy mind. And if you’re reading this article, you may have just found what you’ve been looking for. Now give them what they’re desperately searching for; the road back to themselves.