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Home Wellness Habits

What Shedding My Brother Taught Me About Habit, Disgrace, and Love

Shahzaib by Shahzaib
February 5, 2026
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What Shedding My Brother Taught Me About Habit, Disgrace, and Love
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“Protest any labels that flip folks into issues. Phrases are essential. If you wish to look after one thing, you name it a ‘flower’; if you wish to kill one thing, you name it a ‘weed.’” ~Don Coyhis

Shedding my brother to a substance use dysfunction taught me issues I by no means needed to be taught. Issues no one prepares you for. Issues that can change you in methods you by no means thought potential.

It taught me that you could love somebody a lot it bodily hurts—and nonetheless not be capable of save them. It taught me that you could mourn somebody you’re keen on lengthy earlier than they’re bodily gone, and nobody tells you the way helpless that feels. How humiliating. The way you begin bargaining with the universe in silence: Take something you need from me. Simply give him a little bit extra time.

However the universe didn’t hearken to me. Habit didn’t cut price with him. It simply took. It took his soul, his thoughts, his spirit, and the sunshine from his eyes.

Earlier than he died, I stored making an attempt to carry onto the model of him I grew up with—the actual him. The one who teased me till I laughed so exhausting I couldn’t breathe. The one who confirmed up for everybody else, even when he couldn’t present up for himself. The model of him nobody else noticed. I held onto these reminiscences like lifelines, as a result of the truth of habit felt like watching him drown in gradual movement.

And right here’s the half most individuals won’t ever perceive until they’ve lived it: you begin grieving lengthy earlier than they die.

Each relapse appears like a funeral. Each “I’ll name you again” turns into a silent prayer. Each silence turns into a query you’re too afraid to voice: Are they alive? Are they gone? Are they alone? Each query leads you to calling hospitals, jails—anybody who might know the place they’re and may help you discover them… alive.

Then the day comes when the telephone rings for actual, and your complete physique is aware of earlier than your mind does. You reply anyway. You hear. You break. And part of you you’ll by no means get again collapses with him.

After he died, the world anticipated me to be “robust,” to say issues like “He’s lastly at peace” or “He’s in a greater place.” I needed to scream. I needed to run. I needed to be anyplace else however right here with out him. I didn’t need him in a “higher place.” I needed him right here. Messy, imperfect, making an attempt—however alive. Alive and in a position to see his daughter develop up, to see his niece and nephew change into who they’re right now, and to be the individual I at all times knew he might be, sober.

What his loss of life taught me is just not gentle. It’s not poetic. It’s uncooked and painful. It takes away part of you that you just by no means thought you’d lose. It makes you are feeling like you possibly can’t breathe. You may’t sleep or eat, and you’re feeling responsible for smiling all through the day.

I discovered folks decide habit till it hits their household. Then out of the blue it turns into “difficult.” Private. Human. Earlier than that, they throw round phrases like “junkie,” “selection,” and “his fault.” They don’t know habit sits in the identical class as a terminal illness—brutal, consuming, terrifying, and unfair.

I discovered grief is violent. It explodes your sense of actuality. You suppose you’ll cry and transfer by means of it, however grief has claws. It drags you again into reminiscences you weren’t able to replay, desires that really feel too actual, and guilt you didn’t earn however carry anyway. I discovered that it may well come at any second, at any time, and hit you want a transferring practice. It turns into all-consuming. You are feeling it deep in your soul, and also you typically really feel like you’ll by no means get up from this nightmare.

I discovered I might be indignant and love him on the similar time. I’m indignant he didn’t get yet one more day. Offended the world didn’t perceive him. Offended at everybody who judged him. Offended that he left me right here alone, one thing he mentioned he’d by no means do. Offended at habit for getting the final phrase. However my love for him by no means left and by no means will. Not for one second.

And right here’s the toughest lesson shedding him taught me:

You cease anticipating closure. You cease anticipating the ache to fade. As a substitute, you be taught to stay alongside it—like a bruise that by no means absolutely heals. You be taught to smile by means of the ache. You be taught to let the grief come when it exhibits up, and to at all times communicate his identify and his reality.

However there have been classes too—the type you solely perceive after being cracked open:

I discovered to inform the reality. Not the polished model of his story. Not the model that makes different folks really feel snug. I inform the model the place habit was a part of his life. Not as a result of it defines him, however as a result of hiding it erases him.

I discovered to see struggling in different folks—the quiet form that hides behind smiles and “I’m high-quality.” Shedding him made me softer towards strangers, extra affected person, extra protecting. It made me understand that everybody is carrying one thing they’re terrified to say out loud.

And unusually, painfully, I discovered love doesn’t die with the individual. It settles into your bones. It turns into one thing you carry for the remainder of your life—the ache, the anger, the gratitude, the reminiscences, all blended collectively.

Shedding my brother taught me that the world can break you… and you may nonetheless hold going. Not since you’re robust, however since you don’t have one other selection.

I want I didn’t have these classes. I want he have been nonetheless right here. However since he’s not, all I can do is carry him truthfully—not the sanitized model folks want, however the actual one.

The brother I misplaced. The brother I cherished. The brother habit couldn’t erase. The brother who won’t ever be forgotten.

In loving reminiscence of Joshua O’Neill Grey (August 6, 1982 – August 29, 2019).

About Sheena Crist

After her brother handed, Sheena made it her mission to boost consciousness about substance use and substance use prevention. She obtained her diploma in Behavioral Well being Science with an emphasis in substance use problems, and she or he has made it her ardour to talk Josh’s identify every time she will. Habit can impression anybody, and it doesn’t matter what your race, gender, or financial standing is.

See a typo or inaccuracy? Please contact us so we are able to repair it!
Tags: addictionBrotherLosingLoveShameTaught
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