Its 2:30 in the am and honestly I feel helpless. I received a phone call from Bellevue

Washington Crisis Center. Missed call vague message left. But deep down I know. Return phone call just to confirm my suspicion it has happened again. My older brother who was my rock has been involuntarily hospitalized and is waiting a bed in a psychiatric facility. I am thousands of miles away in Chicago, il. 9 months pregnant feeling helpless. I want to run to him and let him know that I love him and that I am here for him the way he was there for me when I was little. The way he protected me as a child.

Many people do not know this but he stopped me from being sexually assaulted. I remember him kicking the door in ripping the perpetrator off of me and whisking me off to safety. Not everyone has a hero but I do. How do you repay a hero?

So I am sitting here softly crying trying not to wake my sleeping 2 year old daughter. Knowing there is nothing I can do to change the course of my hero’s life.

This summer he tried to live out here in Chicago. But it is different out here more violent. People do no recognize psychiatry illness. He was put through court systems in stead of treated. And he was shot twice in both legs. So he lives thousands of miles away.

I know there is nothing I can do change the course of his life. I can only sit and watch him spinning. Watch his life play out.

She had finally did it. Purchased the loft she had dreams of. All of those years working her ass off had finally paid off. Walking threw the empty place. The moving trucks would arrive tomorrow and fill the vast space. For now it was nothing but her, brick walls and hard wood floors. Too excited to wait til tomorrow. Tonight would be her first night in her dream home. Nothing but a sleeping bag, her Macbook and some snacks.

It was really late already but she was too excited to sleep. Laying in the sleeping bag she continued to toss and turn. Midnight rolled by then 1am. "I am not going to sleep." So she decided to get up and explore. Walking from room to room admiring her accomplishment. Caressing the walls. Then she heard it. Soft at first. "help me." Wait what was that. walking closer to the noise. She was all alone. No one else was supposed to be here. Entering the room in the back of home. She saw a little crawl space door. There is was again still faint. "Help, help me." she opened the small crawl space door. Grabbing her phone from her back pocket. She kneeled down and used her phone to look into the small space. Her heart racing. Get it together she thought. flashing the light to once side then the other nothing but spiderwebs. See nothing to be worried about she thought. getting out of the crawl space still kneeling just outside the door. She turn off the flashlight on her phone. The she heard it again. "Help, help me." body shaking she looks up and sees it deep in the darkness. The Masked figure.

Just as I thought everything was getting better in this perfect world I envisioned since childhood things get flipped over again. Addiction, hazzyness, mental illness, isolation re-enters my world. Maybe it never left.

Its 4 am and my moms boyfriend who I despised for so long calls me up. She is throwing him out. After 30 years of being together. Years of drug addiction, living in the ghetto, mentally disturbing your children and now you want to get the “devil” out of your life after he has final turned his life around 5 years of sobriety. 5 years of a steady job, owning his own car and providing for you. While you live in isolation and now you want to throw him out. After he got you to quit too.

Is it jealousy? Mid life crisis? Mental break down? Are you back in the that life. Crack, or heroine you once told me that was your drug of choice snorted. What is your drug of choice now? Now all that weight is supposed to fall back on on me. You have already started calling me demanding cigarettes and other items. Trying to manipulate me. It is 2019 the worst winter storm since 1985 with temperatures -52 degrees and you want me to swing by with the list of items you request.

NOOOOOOO!! I have already spent to many years of my childhood, of my fucking life supporting a mother who should have supported me. I am done.

But how? How do I separate my love for you. I cannot be your crutch. I pray that you have not reentered that life. I thought it was a slippery slope when you stopped going to church. When I started seeing you drink again. When you admitted to smoking weed.

I pray I dont see you in the streets pushing grocery carts digging in the trash. Collecting scraps of metal to sell. Stealing from me. Lying to me. Guilting me.

I dont want the nightmares to come back. The nightmares of you overdosing. My husband could never comfort me after one of those dreams. Because It could come true. Apparently it still can.

I hate this feeling. Not knowing, not being able to do anything. That is one thing that your addiction has taught me. After all of those years only you can change ur life. No matter how much I prayed, cried, supported you, bought your food, and pleaded with you. Only you can change. It is out of my hands.

So I provide you with what I can offer. The only thing I am willing to offer at this time in my life. I offer you love. I cannot be sucked back into that negative cycle of dependence. I can no longer be your crutch. I have two little ones to look after who are helpless and who truly need me. So, so long mom.