Status: In Progress
Breaking the Silence
Never Too Late
*Ana's Story*
I've been contemplating why I refused to see this sooner. And.. and.. well, I have yet to come up with anything aside from the fact that I didn't want my brother to be in pain. I simply ignored his dangerous and destructive behaviors. I was in denial.
I remember clearly the night I woke up at 2:46 am to a phone call from an unknow number. "Hello..?" I answered groggily still not fully awake. "Hello, this is Officer ---- with the Lion's Creek County Police Department." My chest immediately constricted, I was filled with sorrow and anxiety. The only thought running through my brain was [My god.. where is Dylan]. Not quickly enough the officer finally announced his purpose of calling me "Ma'am are you related to a Dylan ----?" I stuttered out an unconfident, shakey "y..y-yes" He replied "I have your brother with me right now. I found him intoxicated at a party that the neighbors called in. Considering his age and y'alls lack of parents I am willing to release him to you tonight without taking him to jail. This under the condition that you pick him up in the next 45 minutes." Not having enough time to feel relief in the fact that my dear brother was still alive, I preceeded to promise the officer that I would be there as soon as possible. Upon recieving directions from the officer I set out on my unnerving drive.
When I reached the location the officer walked up to my car and berated me for allowing my brother to be so irresponsible. He assumed my brother was intoxicated from the alcohol and ticketed him for minor in consumption. I politley listened to the officer and asked him if he would assist me in putting my brother in the car. He kindly obliged and my brother and I were shortly on our way. The ride home I tried to talk to my brother and get some sort of answers from him. This was unsucessful, all I learned was that he was selling bars at this party and had swallowed all of the pills upon the appearance of the police. He had taken 15! 15! bars. I was in shock. When we reached our home I struggled in getting him out of the car and carrying him to the house. Dylan is not a big or heavy person, but having someone a couple feet shorter than him attempt to carry him is nearly impossible. Finally getting him inside, he passed out and slammed his face on the floor. I was in shock. There was no way I was getting him off the floor without at least a little bit of his conscious help. So I sat next to him for the next five minutes combing his hair with my fingers, waiting on him to regain conciousness. This was not the first time I had to take my intoxicated brother to his room, needless to say I knew the routine.
After I finally roused him to enough conciousness to assist me in getting him in bed, he insisted he was hungry and needed food. He attempted to get up and make a sandwich, I forced him to lay back down and promised to be back shortly with a sandwich. Upon returning with said sandwich I found that he had drifted off. So I preceeded to lay the food on the table next to him for when he awoke, and took his shoes off.
This night is forever engraved in my memory. This night was a determining factor in me realising things were not going to get better if left alone. Something had to be done.
The next day I got the band and my grandparents together. We waited for my brother to wake up. When he finally did get out of bed he immediately headed to the shower. Sitting in the living room, we all silently contemplated the seriousness of the situation as we waited. Upon Dyl's surfacing from the bathroom freshly cleaned and clothed we asked him to sit down. I know this sounds like a stereotypical "intervention". I never expected myself to ever take part in an intervention and to top it all off I never thought such things worked. Well this was an amazing day that I am so grateful to God for. Sitting there surrounding my brother were all the closest people to him. We preceeded to inform Dylan that his behavior could not continue. He was hurting himself and in doing so, hurting everyone who cared for him. The conversation turned to me telling Dylan how I couldn't handle having to suffer through what happened with our parents again. He is the closest, strongest, happiest part of my life. After our parents died of drug overdoses my brother and I developed a strong, close bond.
I tell you now, knowing my brother I would not have been surprised to see him get up and walk away upon realising what we were hinting at. He had stated numerous times prior that he would NEVER go to rehab. He refused. But I swear, God was there opening Dylan's heart and having him actually receive each of our messages. To our surprise Dylan agreed to willingly attend a rehab facility that we had found.
This development brought tears to my eyes. I cannot express or convey to anyone how I felt. I wasn't going to see my brother again for 90 days. 90 days without any form of communication. I was able to accept this because the path he was going down would have led him to his death. 90 days is a whole lot shorter time period than a lifetime. I'm still coping with all of my emotions. It has been 64 days since my brother entered this program. I count each and every day I spend away from him.
After this program we plan on focusing on our music. Music and our relationships with each of our band members has been the only thing to get us all through our hardships in life.
I've been contemplating why I refused to see this sooner. And.. and.. well, I have yet to come up with anything aside from the fact that I didn't want my brother to be in pain. I simply ignored his dangerous and destructive behaviors. I was in denial.
I remember clearly the night I woke up at 2:46 am to a phone call from an unknow number. "Hello..?" I answered groggily still not fully awake. "Hello, this is Officer ---- with the Lion's Creek County Police Department." My chest immediately constricted, I was filled with sorrow and anxiety. The only thought running through my brain was [My god.. where is Dylan]. Not quickly enough the officer finally announced his purpose of calling me "Ma'am are you related to a Dylan ----?" I stuttered out an unconfident, shakey "y..y-yes" He replied "I have your brother with me right now. I found him intoxicated at a party that the neighbors called in. Considering his age and y'alls lack of parents I am willing to release him to you tonight without taking him to jail. This under the condition that you pick him up in the next 45 minutes." Not having enough time to feel relief in the fact that my dear brother was still alive, I preceeded to promise the officer that I would be there as soon as possible. Upon recieving directions from the officer I set out on my unnerving drive.
When I reached the location the officer walked up to my car and berated me for allowing my brother to be so irresponsible. He assumed my brother was intoxicated from the alcohol and ticketed him for minor in consumption. I politley listened to the officer and asked him if he would assist me in putting my brother in the car. He kindly obliged and my brother and I were shortly on our way. The ride home I tried to talk to my brother and get some sort of answers from him. This was unsucessful, all I learned was that he was selling bars at this party and had swallowed all of the pills upon the appearance of the police. He had taken 15! 15! bars. I was in shock. When we reached our home I struggled in getting him out of the car and carrying him to the house. Dylan is not a big or heavy person, but having someone a couple feet shorter than him attempt to carry him is nearly impossible. Finally getting him inside, he passed out and slammed his face on the floor. I was in shock. There was no way I was getting him off the floor without at least a little bit of his conscious help. So I sat next to him for the next five minutes combing his hair with my fingers, waiting on him to regain conciousness. This was not the first time I had to take my intoxicated brother to his room, needless to say I knew the routine.
After I finally roused him to enough conciousness to assist me in getting him in bed, he insisted he was hungry and needed food. He attempted to get up and make a sandwich, I forced him to lay back down and promised to be back shortly with a sandwich. Upon returning with said sandwich I found that he had drifted off. So I preceeded to lay the food on the table next to him for when he awoke, and took his shoes off.
This night is forever engraved in my memory. This night was a determining factor in me realising things were not going to get better if left alone. Something had to be done.
The next day I got the band and my grandparents together. We waited for my brother to wake up. When he finally did get out of bed he immediately headed to the shower. Sitting in the living room, we all silently contemplated the seriousness of the situation as we waited. Upon Dyl's surfacing from the bathroom freshly cleaned and clothed we asked him to sit down. I know this sounds like a stereotypical "intervention". I never expected myself to ever take part in an intervention and to top it all off I never thought such things worked. Well this was an amazing day that I am so grateful to God for. Sitting there surrounding my brother were all the closest people to him. We preceeded to inform Dylan that his behavior could not continue. He was hurting himself and in doing so, hurting everyone who cared for him. The conversation turned to me telling Dylan how I couldn't handle having to suffer through what happened with our parents again. He is the closest, strongest, happiest part of my life. After our parents died of drug overdoses my brother and I developed a strong, close bond.
I tell you now, knowing my brother I would not have been surprised to see him get up and walk away upon realising what we were hinting at. He had stated numerous times prior that he would NEVER go to rehab. He refused. But I swear, God was there opening Dylan's heart and having him actually receive each of our messages. To our surprise Dylan agreed to willingly attend a rehab facility that we had found.
This development brought tears to my eyes. I cannot express or convey to anyone how I felt. I wasn't going to see my brother again for 90 days. 90 days without any form of communication. I was able to accept this because the path he was going down would have led him to his death. 90 days is a whole lot shorter time period than a lifetime. I'm still coping with all of my emotions. It has been 64 days since my brother entered this program. I count each and every day I spend away from him.
After this program we plan on focusing on our music. Music and our relationships with each of our band members has been the only thing to get us all through our hardships in life.