Where to begin.
In my freshman year of high school, at the beginning of the year in my Theatre class, the teacher made us all do one of those stupid, cliche “where do you see yourself in five years” things. On mine, I wrote, “attending university at Cambridge, Harvard, or the University of Alberta. I’ll be studying cosmology, astronomy, and quantum physics. I’ll be working toward my PhD in those fields, and then I’m going to work towards finding a unified Theory of the Universe.”
I was recently accepted into Austin Community College to study business.
I work for minimum wage.
I struggle with my sister’s addiction.
Funny how life works out, huh?
I’m nowhere near where I wanted to be. In the eyes of High-School-Freshman-Ob Co Di, I am, by all means, a failure.
Back then, I had no idea what my life had in store for me. I figured that my biggest problems would be my parents’ divorce, OCD, and petty shit with friends, girlfriends, etc.
God, back then I was something like best friends with [REDACTED]. At least, I thought I was. We hung out a lot. We had each other’s backs through everything at home. She’d give me advice on petty high school drama, and I’d listen to her wild stories about band and partying.
I think it was the end of her junior year that I started feeding her addiction without even realizing it. I’d cover for her when she was out past curfew, I’d give her some money when she asked for it without asking what it was for, I looked up to her when she talked about blacking out after drinking too much “purple drank.” I even started thinking it was normal, and that everyone else was either stupid or boring. But at the same time, I think I knew that it wasn’t good. I never spoke openly about it, for fear of whatever repercussions. I think I should’ve spoken about it more openly. Even if it were in a bragging sense, it’d at least have gotten it out in the open.
I really deeply regret everything I did to enable her. I think that almost all of it was avoidable. If I’d only spoken to someone about it, literally anyone would’ve been able to recognize that something was amiss. Even I must have known that it wasn’t right; I kept it secret for her!
The whole thing… almost everything that happened with [REDACTED] could have been avoided if I’d simply told someone.
I’ve told the story of [REDACTED] to a handful of people, and they all say similar things:
“You can’t beat yourself up over this,”
“You were a kid, you didn’t know any better,”
“It’s not your fault,”
And that stuff’s comforting. It’s nice to think that this is in no way my fault. But it’s just not true.
A really grim example is such:
If you were to give a suicidal person a loaded gun and they committed suicide, are you responsible for their death?
It’s an extreme example, but the same principle applies; you’re not be responsible for their death if you didn’t pull the trigger. But you definitely facilitated it. You enabled them to engage in a self-destructive behaviour. In this case, I helped feed [REDACTED]‘s addiction, and I’m trying to live with that.
This is one of those harsh truths that I don’t think I would’ve been able to handle a couple of months ago. I needed to hear that this was on her, I didn’t do anything wrong, etc, etc. But now, I’m in a place where I’m ready to analyze what was going on, how it happened, what I did to facilitate it, and how to not do it again.
Five years ago, I thought I’d be going to a world-renowned university, studying the cosmos and having fun.
Today, I’m a business major at a community college, working for minimum wage, and overcoming my sister’s addiction. It’s not what I envisioned, but it’s what I got. I have a steady job, I’m a certified nursing assistant, I’m a writer, I’ve crawled through hell and back with my sister’s addiction, I’ve overcome OCD… I’ve done a lot that I can be proud of.
Five years from now, I’ll have my MBA. I’ll be going to school for something, be it astrobiology, medicine, theatre, or writing. I’ll have a stable job, maybe as a CNA or an actor or a manager somewhere. I’ll travel a lot, maybe I’ll join the Peace Corps. I’m going to have a handle on the situation with [REDACTED]. Maybe I won’t be a part of it anymore. I know nothing in life is certain, and all this is assuming that everything in my life goes 100% smoothly. But I’m prepared for roadblocks along the way, and I’m prepared for them to hit me hard. Either way, I’m gonna keep on keepin’ on, one day at a time.
Our Crappy Demons 