the amount of time my brother has chosen to stay alive. this time. at last check-in (july 2010), my brother was back in detox. 2 failed drug tests later here we are in september.
i originally abandoned this blog days after creation in hopes that ignoring a problem denies its existence. oh dream world.
today i'm ridden with what we'll call "survivor's guilt". it's the idea that though i am the primary introduction point to my brother and all drugs, i've managed to come out completely unscathed. things i do: drink alcohol, smoke recreationally. things i don't do: snort anything, pierce my skin with needles, smoke things manufactured by man. but yet, we all started in the same place. an underage boone's farm here and some really shitty pot there. where did it all go terribly wrong?
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