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It’s hard to put into words the pain of watching someone you love spiral into addiction. Especially when that person is your own brother.
Every day, I watch him suffer in ways that I can’t fix, can’t stop, and sometimes can’t even look at without breaking. His choices, his addiction, his chaos it’s all become a storm that doesn’t just destroy him but shatters everyone around him too.
Our family, once happy and united, has become distant and fragile. What used to be joyful meals and laughter are now replaced with tension, silence, or shouting. It’s like the soul of our family has been buried under the weight of fear, anger, and shame.
People don’t come around anymore. They avoid us afraid to be pulled into the mess. And honestly, I understand. But it hurts. It hurts to feel isolated in your pain. It hurts to carry the shame of someone else's choices. It hurts to want to love someone who keeps breaking everything around them.
Sometimes, I sit and think… how I wish my dad was still alive. I wish he were here to be the strong shield that could have protected all of us. Maybe his strength, his presence, would have held our family together through this storm. But maybe, just maybe, he was taken away early not to witness all this mess. Maybe he was spared, because he deserved peace.
And honestly, so do we.
What makes it worse is the denial. My mum, out of love or maybe desperation, keeps telling people that my brother is just sick, not addicted. She covers up his behavior, explains away the broken pieces, and shields him from judgment. But while she protects him, the rest of us suffer in silence.
And that silence is slowly destroying us.
I've tried to ignore it. I've tried to live my own life. But I worry all the time for our safety, for my parents’ health, for what this is doing to our emotional well-being. It’s a silent war in our home, and no one wants to call it what it is.
To anyone else going through this: you’re not alone. I see you. I feel your ache. And I want to share this letter, not just for my mum, but for all the families who are silently breaking under the weight of addiction.
๐ An Open Letter to My Mama (And to Every Silent Family)
Dear Mama,
I love you. I always will. But I need you to hear this from the depth of my heart:
I’m hurting.
I see what’s happening to our family, and it’s breaking me inside. I know you love him. I do too. But love doesn’t mean pretending everything is okay. Love doesn’t mean lying to protect someone from consequences. Love doesn’t mean covering up the pain.
Mama, your silence makes everything heavier. When you say he’s just sick, when you protect him from the truth we all suffer more.
I know you’re scared. I know you don’t want people to judge him. But addiction is not just his battle. It has become ours, whether we chose it or not. And pretending doesn’t make it go away, it just buries us deeper.
I feel so alone sometimes. I feel like no one wants to help because no one wants to be part of our chaos. I need you to see that. I need you to see me and my other brother. I’m trying to stay strong, yes we both are, but we're exhausted. I’m grieving the family we once had. I’m grieving the brother I used to know. I’m grieving the joy we’ve lost.
And I’m grieving Dad too. Every day. I miss him more now than ever. I wish he were here to guide us, protect us, speak the truth when we’re too afraid. But maybe, just maybe, he was taken so early because he didn’t deserve to carry this weight. Maybe he was given peace before the storm arrived.
Mama, I don’t want to keep pretending. I don’t want to live in fear. I want peace, not fake peace that comes from silence, but the real kind that comes from truth and healing.
Maybe he doesn’t want help right now. But that doesn’t mean we stop living. That doesn’t mean we stop being honest. That doesn’t mean we stop protecting ourselves.
And for now, I am surrendering everything to God. Our pain, our fears, our brokenness
and letting Him navigate where this storm takes us. I know I can’t control it all, but I trust that He can carry what we no longer can.
Mama, I need you to stand with me in truth. For our family. For yourself. For me.
With love,
Ai
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๐ฑ Final Words
Addiction doesn’t just destroy the addict, it cracks the foundation of families, dreams, and hearts. But silence and denial are not love. Honesty is. Boundaries are. And healing... real healing, starts when we speak the truth out loud.
To anyone reading this who feels the same quiet ache: your story matters. Your pain is real. And you deserve support, safety, and hope.
You are not alone anymore.
xo,
Ai