Watching someone you love and care about continually fuck up and ruin their life is one of the hardest things to deal with.

I just spent the past seven or so hours waiting in the emergency room with my seventeen year old brother that most people don't even know I have because he ran away from the institution he was in (for the fourth time in five weeks) to go get high, and not only got into a physical fight, but took 30+ Robitussin gel caps. The past two times he's ran, they've found alcohol, pot, PCP, and opiates in his system. The last time he ran, they found between 20-30 Dramamine pills hidden in his sock. When they asked him what he planned on doing with the pills, he said he was going to take them all at once to get high.

Every time my father calls, I almost don't want to answer the phone because I'm afraid that he's calling to tell me that Chris ran again. Or that Chris is dead. Over the past eight years or so, I've only lived with him for a year or two. To me, he's not a seventeen year old young adult. He's still that annoying nine year old boy who would nerd out over horror movies and South Park.

I'm sick of having to pretend that this doesn't affect me and getting angry and having to hold back tears until I'm by myself. But I think most of all, I'm sick of feeling like I'm wasting my time when I try to talk to him. I don't know how to get through to him, and I don't know that I ever will.

Things I Wish I Had:

+ Hope.





In other news, I did a review for Adam, Trey, and Zack's music blog. If you don't check it already, get on it.