the failures and successes of rehab.
15.04.13 | 9:14 pm


in the past twenty-four hours:

you drove to alabama to pick up your father from rehab.
you found a half full bottle of whiskey in his car.
you chose to tell me about it before you even told your family.
you confronted your father.
he told you it was an old bottle.
you told him you trusted him, handed him his keys, and let him go to an aa meeting.
he came home drunk instead.

in the past twenty-four hours:

my brother got out of rehab.
my brother went to stay with my grandparents (who have, essentially, from day one, been enablers who think that since he was the first grandchild, he hung the moon).
one of my brother's stupid friends posted on his facebook to call her.
i have become increasingly terrified that he will immediately return to his past habits.

in the past twenty-four hours:

i have realized that when bad things happen, there is never much to say. there is only listening, being there for someone, offering them a place to get away. there is only making sure that they know you care.


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