Day Three

I’ve visited my brothers in rehab, jail, and prison. I’ve sat through their court dates and sentencings. But at some point, I had to ask myself: When is enough… enough?

That probably sounds harsh, doesn’t it? Don’t get me wrong — I love my brothers. But for once in my life, I decided to put myself first.

They aren’t bad people. They’re human beings who have made bad decisions. And if you know them, you probably love them. When they’re clean, they are some of the sweetest, most caring people you could ever meet.

But that changes the moment they’re high.
They become unrecognizable — someone you wouldn’t want to know.
Their words cut deep:
“It’s your fault.”
“What I do doesn’t affect you.”
“I hate you.”
“I don’t care about you.”

And even though I know they don’t mean it — even though I know it’s the addiction talking — it still hurts.

So, I put up boundaries. Boundaries that most people might not understand. I decided they would no longer hold power over me. I wouldn’t let them keep hurting me.

I’ve completely cut off communication with one of my brothers. Our last conversation wasn’t a good one. His words hurt me for the last time. And I chose to protect myself — to finally choose me.

Since then, I’ve earned a college degree. I work multiple jobs. I have my own apartment.

And through it all, I can say this with full confidence:

God is good — even in the storm.