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Apparently, I am doing much worse than I thought

Discussion in 'Loss of Sibling' started by Labeth, Oct 9, 2020.

  1. Labeth

    Labeth New Member

    My little brother died on January 22, 2020. He was only 36 years old. He deserved to have a chance to have a happy life. My husband of 16 years has been asking me to get help. I thought I was coping ok. Even though I knew I was not, deep down. I have always had a tendency to drink alcohol, and over the years I’ve had bouts of heavy drinking and that is the only way I let my true feelings out. The love of my life asked me if I still wanted him tonight. My heart broke. He is the most amazing person I have ever known. He told me some of the mean, shitty things I have said to him over the past months when I’ve been drunk. I feel like such a piece of shit right now. But I want to do better. I want to be able to function and not just wait until the weekend every week so I can get fucked up. I know I need to abstain and stay sober. But after I lost James, the only way I could get any sleep was if I got buzzed. I drank every fucking day for three months. Not to oblivion, (listen to me excusing my shit) but if I laid down at night-my mind would obsess about the fact that my little brother was buried in the cold, dark ground, alone. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The only time I stopped thinking about it is when I was a little bit fucked up. I couldn’t even go to his grave for eight fucking months! I could not handle that he was buried below me, alone, cold, being rained on and snowed on. I wanted so much to just “be ok” and feel better as time passed. But I’m not ok. This last week I have been a bitch to both my husband and and my sweet daughter. She is 11 years old and she needs her mama so much right now. I feel like a fucking failure as a wife and mother. I thought that the fact I have kept my job all year was the most important thing. But it isn’t. I am so angry. And so devastated. And so ANGRY! My brother deserved a second chance at life, to be with his kids, to find love, to find who he really was inside. But a fucking random blood clot to the lungs (he worked out several times a week, really pretty healthy) ripped him away in the dead of night. I need to get these feelings out. I need to not take out my pain on the two people I love more than anything in this life. Thanks for listening.