I woke up unexpectedly early the Saturday morning before Easter this year to find this note on the kitchen counter. Immediately, panic. Must wake up parents. Must find Josh, search upstairs. I held my breath as I opened each door, turned each corner, terrified of what I might find.
My parents found him in the dining room, huddled in a corner, gripping a kitchen knife but skin untouched.
Two months later he comes home with a hole in his arm, high on meth. A hospital visit and 24 hours later he swears that scared him enough to keep him away the rest of his life.
And we foolishly believed him, constantly wanting him to have turned a corner, thinking "he's really made progress this time. He seems happy."
And now, it's September and he's in a treatment facility for drug use. When on his last straw, planning suicide, a friend has an intervention and urges him to get help. Thank the Lord for this sweet soul, I may not have my brother today if it weren't for him.
But is it going to work this time? Is he actually going to try? I hate being helpless, I hate living so far away but what could I do anyway?
I had finally reached a point where I wasn't scared I might lose Josh, my best friend, every day. I finally stopped being scared of getting calls from my parents, afraid of the news they may carry.
I don't want to go back to that.
My parents found him in the dining room, huddled in a corner, gripping a kitchen knife but skin untouched.
Two months later he comes home with a hole in his arm, high on meth. A hospital visit and 24 hours later he swears that scared him enough to keep him away the rest of his life.
And we foolishly believed him, constantly wanting him to have turned a corner, thinking "he's really made progress this time. He seems happy."
And now, it's September and he's in a treatment facility for drug use. When on his last straw, planning suicide, a friend has an intervention and urges him to get help. Thank the Lord for this sweet soul, I may not have my brother today if it weren't for him.
But is it going to work this time? Is he actually going to try? I hate being helpless, I hate living so far away but what could I do anyway?
I had finally reached a point where I wasn't scared I might lose Josh, my best friend, every day. I finally stopped being scared of getting calls from my parents, afraid of the news they may carry.
I don't want to go back to that.