The past three days have been very long and exhausting and, although it isn’t related at all to my pregnancies or losses, I really need to get it all out. I’ve written in the past (here and here) about my brother and how he put himself in a bad situation this summer. Well, this week he went off the rails again with drinking and cocaine, and so badly that my family and I went to court today and asked for him to be involuntarily committed to a drug/alcohol rehab program. The court psychiatrist agreed with us and the judge granted our petition. Earlier this evening he was sent directly to rehab.
Talk about emotionally exhausting. It has been really stressful. Late last night we made the decision that we would go to court this morning to start the process. My mother and I arrived at the courthouse at 8:15am and didn’t leave until 5:30pm. My father and stepfather met us there after the judge issued the warrant and the cops picked him up and brought him to the courthouse. I didn’t sleep at all last night, my stomach was in knots. I spent a lot of time curled up on the couch staring out the big picture window in our living room. Talking to my grandfather, talking to my lost babies. Asking them to please help us when we went to court and to please help my brother through this. I hardly ever talk out loud to them. And I don’t pray, but I did both last night. I don’t know who I prayed to, I just ended up talking out loud about it and asking for help. Whose help? I don’t know.
My mother especially has been upset and she was listed as the official “Petitioner” although we all went to present a united front. I had to drive her there and she told me – I am much stronger with you around. I am one of those “details people” so had all the information she needed for her affidavit and was reminding her of things she forgot. I tried to be pragmatic and keep her focused on one thing at a time – right now we are filling out forms. Right now we are waiting to be heard. Right now we are waiting for him to be picked up. We couldn’t control or worry about more than one step at a time. She was worrying about things ten steps away – worrying about him being upset, worrying about him being away for the holidays, worrying about him getting feisty with the cops. Things we can’t control or worry about until we get through the task at hand.
I hope he has the strength to take this opportunity and make the most of it. To really be able to make the effort to better his life. Of the two of us I have been the more emotionally stable, more emotionally tough and strong willed. I know I am strong. I know I can get through things. I would gladly give up some of this strength if it would help him get through this and get better. I know there is only so much we can do, and this isn’t a cure all. I just hope he is able to put in the work and really commit. He didn’t cause a scene with the cops picked him up or in the courtroom. He seemed to accept it. He of course pleaded his case that he didn’t want to go, but when the decision was made that was it.
The facility where he was sent is only a few miles away from my house. We aren’t allowed to visit him at all or send care packages or anything like that. I just keep wondering what he is doing. It makes me sad to think he is there, alone. I know it was a necessary step, and one we had to take to try and help him since he would never voluntarily go for treatment. But I just keep having questions through my head… silly, frivolous questions that are unimportant… Will he get to see the Patriots game Sunday? Do they have TVs? How do we get him money for the canteen? Is he mad at us? What should I tell his friends when they ask where he is? I hope he doesn’t make bad friends in there who he hooks up with when he leaves. I mean, they all have substance abuse problems but I hope he doesn’t somehow find someone worse off than he is and leech on to him and pick up new bad habits. I hope the therapists can see through the charming front he can present when trying to get people on his side. I almost feel guilty being home right now, with my dog and cat and in my nice fluffy robe. I’m sure he isn’t comfortable at all, and he isn’t supposed to be. It’s not supposed to be fun. I know this was the right thing and one of the only options we had at the moment. I just wish it never came to this. I wish a lot of things were different.