The Conflict

I am a conflicted sister. I am one of two children. I am the eldest of two children. I am in my late 30′s, my brother is in his mid 30′s and our parents are in their mid 60′s. From the outside we look like your average South African family. But the truth is, while we may be average, we’re not normal.

We are all struggling to deal with my brothers 15+ year battle with addiction and with his life long battle with ADHD and anxiety disorder.

We live in cycles, usually lasting in the region of 12 months. Each cycle starts with a downward spiral of lies, late nights, financial debts and then failed drug tests and extended periods of being MIA, usually this is followed by a stint in rehab and then we go into a period of peace, calm and quiet. The peaceful time is always short lived, it always has a distinct beginning and a slow slide towards the end.

In the midst of the carnage of my brothers addiction I battle my own demons, my conflicted thoughts and feelings towards him and his disease. Part of me wants to hate him, part of me see’s what he is doing and I want to place my bare hands around his neck and throttle the life out of him. Part of me dies a little bit more inside each time I hear my mother cry, each time I witness my father slip further into depression, further into despair. But a part of me loves my brother, deeply and unconditionally, he is after all my brother. The little boy who called me Bibi, the little boy who was so intelligent, who’s life was so full of promise.

This is my place to safely and anonymously express my conflicted feelings of love and hate for my brother, my anger and understanding towards my parents. My disappointments, my worries.

This is my place where I can let my love and my hate for him collide.