It gets worse

My brother.. He was a 24 yr old man/boy. I found his body 36 hours ago. I've had my screaming cry now that the family is gone, and I'm sure it's not the last. John started smoking pot at 13 and just kept working his way up from there. I can't think of a single drug he hasn't tried at some point.

He moved up to Georgia 5 months ago to get away from the crack-fiend crowd he was hanging with in Florida. When he got here he was emaciated and sickly looking, it was terrible to behold. I've watched him slowly come from the shadow of that drug, though he still drank more that I would have liked.

He got to know his nephew, my son age 7, while he was here and getting clean. John and I had many a conversation about he fact he decided he wanted to live. He looked back and could honestly say the drugs weren't worth it. God if only he'd remembered that. God, I'm hurting so bad..

Our grandfather passed away 8 days ago. John's grief was terrible to see.

My sister's boyfriend, unknown to anyone else, gave him two oxycotins the day of the funeral. John took both. We were all appalled to see him stoned out of his gourd at grandpa's funeral. But John's never been one to turn down drugs. Maybe if I'd given him the 'big sister smack down' I wanted to at the time it would have made a difference.. probably not.

I am assuming that is what triggered his downward spiral again. Most of my family drink very heavily and John was no exception. He frequently mixed drugs and alcohol though I always warned him one day it would kill him.

Thursday night he was drinking with some of the family. Four of them put down a half gallon of Wild Turkey Whiskey and over a case of beer that night. One of my immediate family had some morphine pills (not prescribed to them). John was offered them by that family member. The combination of liquor and morphine is probably what killed him. We won't know for sure until the toxicology report from the coroners.

I watched my brother go from a shell of a man with burned out eyes and mind to a man I was learning to respect. He was putting on weight, working, making friends.

But drugs and drinking go hand and hand for much of my family. Myself .. well I've seen both destroy too many lives in the past to do much of either. I'm no saint, I smoked a bushel of pot in my teen years. I never reached the everyday point. I was splurging if I smoked it once a month. John didn't have that will power. If it was around he'd do it.

I'm so fucking angry I could .. hell I don't know what I could do. Not only did one of our siblings give him morphine KNOWING he'd been drinking all night.. when confronted about it they lied and said they got the pills from me. And I know why.. their significant other has done jail time for giving drugs to someone and contributing to that persons death.

I hope you're fucking happy now asshole. You contributed to another death. The death of my brother. Take your oxy and your zanny bars and your morphine and shove them up your ass. There is an official police investigation going on. I'd hate to see my sibling go to jail for this.. but hey shit happens.

They feel guilty for John's death, and yes some of that guilt is theirs. BUT John was a grown man, he could have said no. The other two family members there that night feel guilty. They could have stepped in and taken the pills away. Some of the guilt IS theirs. I feel guilty because I was at work, cheerfully helping customers at blahblah insurance while my brother was dying.

I love you John. I miss you bro. It hurts so bad.


Moon.. thank you. Thank you for listening to me scream, cry, and rant after I learned all of the above. Thank you & Obi both.