Ghost

A few months ago, one of my former classmates (that actually dated my brother for a while and almost became my sister-in-law) passed away, and it was incredible, the chatter and response that started on Facebook.  "Oh, my God, this is a tragedy"... "I can't believe it"... "she was taken too soon"... and all the while, I thought to myself that she was a crack head since she was 16 and died of an overdose... what's so tragic and unbelievable about that?  You can't abuse your body for that long and expect to live a long life.  All those people didn't give her the time of day throughout her life and yet they fell all over her death.  It seemed a little late, to say the least.

She was 43.  My friend's brother, who was also an addict, was in his mid-forties when he died, as was a lot of my brother's friends who he partied with over time.  Yesterday, my Dad got a call from my brother (45).  Apparently, he had encountered a mild heart attack while in rehab, was taken to the hosptial and was released today back to rehab.  I'm not sure if it's because I have been fed so many lies from him over the years and don't know what to believe... or I've detached myself emotionally as a defense mechanism... but I felt nothing.

I suppose I could easily justify my lack of feeling by listing all that he's done and all we've been through, but when it comes right down to it, I don't care whether my brother lives or dies...in fact, I dream of the peace that it will bring to everyone involved when he is gone.  That's a hard realization to admit, and unleashes feelings of emptiness, guilt and anger in me.  I feel empty because I am unable to conjure feelings for this person... guilty for finally (and justifiably) walking away... and angry that he and his behavior turned me into this person... a person that feels more for a stranger on the street... maybe because with that stranger, there are possibilities and hopes of a normal interaction... something that is long-gone with my brother. 

It's easy to judge me.  If you haven't encountered the animal that they become... and the wrath of shit that it brings... you can't imagine.  It's an experience that bears no value, except maybe to the addicts that pull themselves out of it and apply the lessons learned and is able to move forward.  We, however, are left with hurt, mistrust, anger, defeat and a half dozen other emotions that only darken our soul.  Gone is any glimpse of who my brother was, replaced with a hopeless, hollow shell of a person... a ghost... and a part of us becomes the same.