February 18, 2019 – Also known as, the worst day of my life. The day is a blur, I remember screaming, telling my mom that it was okay, everything is okay, he was fine. The ambulance would get there, they would administer Narcan and he would be fine. Then I blacked out.
Flash back…
July 21, 2018 – My brother had a large bubble on the inside of his elbow. I had asked him what the heck it was, and he simply replied that it was an infection from a spider bite. I kept telling him he needed to get it checked out and get on some antibiotics. That evening my mother took him to the ER to get some medicine for the infection, thinking it was only a spider bite. This was the day we found out my brother was doing heroin. The infection was from a dirty needle and not the spider he had told us it was. I kept texting my mom that evening, asking her how it was going at the ER, she wasn’t responding, and I was getting upset. I was at a surprise birthday party and unable to go with her. The moment she told me it was heroin, my entire world collapsed. My brother had been an addicted for 20 years, it started out at 15 with alcohol, then pain killers, then pretty much anything. But it was never heroin. I was always able to disassociate myself from his addiction. I was hardened to it, figured that’s his life, he needed to grow the heck up. We were 35 years old, time to be an adult. But heroin, heroin was different. I couldn’t disassociate my feelings, I was missing work, not sleeping, arguing with my husband and just plain sick over it. Why? Well, because heroin is the end game. There are only two options with heroin, get clean or die and burying my brother wasn’t an option. Not in MY family, because this doesn’t happen in MY family.
Flash forward…
February 18, 2019 – it happened, it happened to MY family. He was gone, I was alone in a world filled with people, I was a twinless twin.
I came to, standing in the shower, screaming at the top of my lungs and shaking. Someone was shaking me. I blinked several times and my husband was shaking me screaming my name. I felt like I was on a cloud, just suspended in time, in a dream. On the way to my brother’s house to meet my mother, I kept repeating that it was all okay, he was fine. My mom called me and asked if I was on my way and I kept telling her to calm down, that the ambulance was going to be there, and things would be fine. She said, they are here, it isn’t fine, he is dead Brandy. But he couldn’t be dead, I still felt him, alive, I could still feel his heart beating inside me. I was still alive, so no, no, he wasn’t allowed to be dead.
Flash back…
July 22, 2018 – My mom and I went and cleaned my brother’s house, get him on the straight and narrow. He was getting set up at a clinic, he had a sponsor now. This is good, this is all going to work out! I had my twin back! We were going to be the best of friends. From that moment forward, we talked almost daily, he came to my house to spend the night, hung out with mom and I. We spent our first NYE together, all of us. It was the best NYE I ever had. We were a family again. This is amazing, I missed this.
I called my brother one day after work, he was with a coworker waiting for my mom to get off work to take him home. See he was working at the same construction company as my mom now. He had an excellent job, with a retirement plan, with a steady paycheck. He was getting caught up on bills. Man, his life was turning around. But he said something to the coworker that brought me to tears. He said to him, “No man, this is my twin sister. She’s cool as shit, seriously.” My brother never said stuff like that about me, he’s called me every name in book when he was messed up, threw punches at me when he was drunk, and told me he hated me. To hear those words meant everything to me.
Flash forward…
February 18, 2019 – My mom called me and told me Aaron was a no call/no show at work. Where the hell was he? He wasn’t answering his phone, it was going straight to voicemail. I kept calling and calling and calling. I messaged Jeff, my “father”, to see if he could go check on him, he wouldn’t. (SHOCKER) My mom finally got ahold of his ex-girlfriend who was his daily ride to work in the morning. She said she had been pounding on his door in the morning but had to leave and take her son to work, figured she’d go back and see if he was awake and would take him in late. When she arrived, he still wasn’t answering, my mom told her to break down the door, a window, anything, just get inside. She finally got inside…
Flash back…
February 15, 2019 – I didn’t know it at the time, but these would be the last words spoken between my brother and I. Me: “So, what have you been up to since no one has been hearing from you lately. I know you are at the office…so what are you up too? My gut is telling me something is up. But you don’t talk to anyone anymore. So…” Aaron: “Whatever, had a bad week I don’t need any more shit.” Me: “I’m not giving you shit. You can hate me. Be mad at me. I don’t give a crap. But I will do what I can to keep you alive and make sure you aren’t falling down that rabbit hole again. And if that means asking you what the heck you are up to. I’m going to do it.” He never responded. He never will respond.
Flash forward…
February 19, 2019 – Our 36th birthday. I was planning my brother’s funeral on the day we were born, the day we were supposed be celebrating, TOGETHER! I turned 36 years old, alone, he will forever be 35. I can’t compute that, it doesn’t make sense to me.
…….
Monday will be one month, one horrible month since I found out Aaron was gone. Nothing much has changed, I’m still stuck in this horrible loop of denial, realization, denial, acceptance, denial, complete anguish, denial. I’ve lost before, I’ve buried friends, family, loved ones. Grieving isn’t new to me, this, this isn’t grieving, this is my new normal, the pain that I will constantly be in. Losing a twin is completely different than losing anyone else. The other half of my soul is dead, and I feel that, I feel the emptiness in my heart. I breathe, but I never feel like it’s a full breath. This is what I now need to get used to. There are moments in my life where I feel like I’m at complete peace, like, I never have to worry about him. Is he eating? Is he strung out? Is he healthy? But that peace turns to guilt, like, I shouldn’t be allowed to be happy anymore, you are no longer allowed to feel the joys of the world because the other half of your life is dead, and you are not allowed to enjoy life from here on out. It’s a weird existence watching everyone live normally, go to work, make dinner, meet with friends, smile, and laugh. When none of that feels normal anymore to me. I feel completely broken inside, like the pieces don’t match to the puzzle that created me anymore, there are too many missing pieces, broken pieces, mangled pieces to make a complete puzzle so it will forever be incomplete From the time of conception, I knew this person. I felt his breath when I would breathe, I felt his heart beat when mine would beat, I felt his touch when we would move. I knew him, every aspect of him, before anyone knew us, before I knew myself, I knew him. I watched him be created as I was being created. We grew fingers and toes together. I knew it would always be us, never me, never just me, ALWAYS us. Born one blasted minute apart, me first, I’m the oldest, and I never let him forget that. I hated being a twin, I’m going to be honest about that. I believe everyone who’s a twin goes through that stage. You share everything. Nothing is ever about just the one person, it’s always the two of you. Be careful what you wish for, because now, it is just me and I hate it. I would give up everything, anything, to share my birthday with him again, to share everything with him again. I’m an only child, an only freaking child. I don’t have any siblings, it’s just me, AND I HATE IT, I FREAKING HATE IT! There is a saying, “He’s half my soul and half my heart; without my twin I’d fall apart.” It’s true, I’m falling apart, and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know if I want to be fixed, being fixed makes him gone and I refuse to let him be gone, gone from me.
Growing up you always have a vision of how you see your life going. It never pans out the way you think. I was going to be married in my twenties, I was. We were going to have children, wonderful children, my brother was going to be sober and an amazing uncle. I didn’t have children, I can’t have children, and my brother didn’t get to be an amazing uncle. I was going to have this amazing job, this amazing house, this amazing life. I do have a job I love, I do have a house, I do have a life I love, but now it all seems tainted, with sorrow, with pain, it all seems useless.
I want people to see the pain that is left behind, an addict doesn’t just die, they leave behind an unimaginable amount of pain to the family that unconditionally loved them, would do anything for them, would fight for them. I want people to see who an addict is to the family that loved them. They aren’t this bad person by the choices they make. My brother had a huge heart, he would do anything for anyone, he had one hell of a work ethic and would help any coworker without being prompted to do so. If it needed done, he did it. So, he was an addict, it’s a disease, I refuse to let him be defined by that.
I now have this new vision, to not let my brother’s death be in vain. To share his story, his struggles, his life with the world. Maybe his story, my story, our story will help one person, two people, three people. I don’t know, anyone, help anyone. Then maybe his death won’t be so hard for me. There needs to be a change in the way we see addicts, the way we approach the opioid epidemic. Lives, most to young to be gone, are being lost daily. The disease is affecting everyone. You are not immune to it, no one is immune to it. Please help me, help me share his story, my story, our story. Share this blog post. Help me make a difference in someone’s life.
