My brother came home from a 12-month stay in rehab. My confidant, my jokester, my BFF is back!
His year in rehab seems to have passed in the blink of an eye, but in the moment it seemed like every minute without his free spirit in our home took a lifetime to pass.
In the past couple of weeks, I’ve noticed my anxiety has doubled, no, scratch that, it’s tripled without him. His year away brought me to tears because I missed sharing jokes and experiences with him. But at least I knew he was safe. He was free from the temptation of the bottle. Now, he’s home and the tears come to my eyes for a different reason: fear and uncertainty.
There’s so much I don’t know. I don’t know what he’s thinking. I don’t know if these new freedoms are tugging at the alcoholic in him. I don’t know if he will run into temptations from his former life. I don’t know his triggers. I don’t know if he’ll fail. I am also terrified to discover, that I don’t know how to help him.