I was 14 when I watched him overdose and die in front of my eyes, the flashing lights as bright as Christmas came flying down my driveway as I watched EMS revive my brother. He kept saying he was sick, and that he couldn't stop the feeling. No matter how much you try and understand you just can't, I could never understand why someone would want to ingest a substance that would make him or her feel that way. I didn't realize it was a disease; the urge to quit just didn't exist. Just like any disease a family feels the pain as much as the person sometimes. At the time I also didn't realize what it was doing to my family, or to me in particular. It was slowly destroying each and every one of us. Between rehab, jail and consoling he was draining my parents of money, causing them to argue. And there I was stuck in the middle of it all. I remember things so vividly, and I believe that's what causes me to live my life differently today. .
Posttraumatic stress disorder is a severe anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to any event that results in psychological trauma. This doesn't have to happen to you physically, it can be a near death experience of a loved one, some else's physical, sexual, or psychological integrity, overwhelming the individual's ability to cope. Some develop recurring thoughts, memories, dreams, or nightmares that connect with the event (Comer). Moving forward became easy but forgetting the past became something I couldn't do. No matter how hard I tried every time I closed my eyes I relived the whole scene. I played it back in my head, I saw him lying on the bathroom floor with no heartbeat, and no pulse. I saw a silver spoon on the counter and a needle on the floor. I would dream of flashing lights and have nightmares of him not waking up it haunted me. I became sick more often; I developed headaches and stomachaches regularly. I didn't realize the stress was getting to me but either did my parents.
