This weekend I embarked on a vacation just for the woman in my family. It consisted of Me, my MOther, Grandmother, Aunt, and Cousin. We all stayed at my mom’s close friend Julies summer house in St. George, Utah on a beautiful golf course. The trip had been planned for weeks to celebrate my Grandma’s 70 somethin’ birthday ( I should probably know these things).
Now that I’ve set the stage, let me begin… I’ve always had this negative angst when I think about spending a certain amount of days with my own flesh and blood. Maybe it’s because I wish they were something different. Maybe its the fact that I wish my mom was a little more religious. Or the fact that My 54 year old aunt is and will always be in competition with me on whose skinnier. I wonder when she will find out that I’m not even playing the game? Or the other fact that my cousin has been struggling with drugs and every time she is doing good her boyfriend is let out of jail and down she goes to bottom of the barrel.
So this wonderfully planned weekend in the warmth of St. George is pulled straight back to reality as soon as we get there. We get the call that my aunt’s son Zach, 33, has tried to commit suicide after a week long binge in Las Vegas, Nevada. What a coincidence right? I think not. We spent the whole time trying to figure out what to do with this grown man that has sucked the life out of all of us as a way to survive. It has become so monotonous that most don’t even ask how he’s doing because all assume he’s in Jail again, Rehab, or just bumming around for a place to sleep and money to buy more drugs and alcohol.
Not new to the experience, it wasn’t long before the weekend got heated with everyone and an Intervention was the conclusion. One last time to tell him we can’t help him anymore, he needs to choose life or death and we will support either one…. Not knowing what may come of it, he chose the route of life, and sat there in his misery of puffiness and cried that its just so hard.
Interventions run ramp-id in my family. Someone’s always going to far and has to get pulled back. Or someone loses it and almost dies. I’ve specialized in them.
One can simply relate to the belated message of struggling over one bump to another. But relying on everyone around you to survive is not a reality anyone wants to live. Zach needs to take responsibility for his life, because no one will. I had my fill this weekend. I leave nothing back. And like another horrible weekend, I’m glad its over.