My Sister, Catherine had always been smarter than me and much more pretty, but I was never envious because she was my sister! I was the trouble maker, the gangly brat, the tom boy, but most importantly “The older sister”. My siblings are my pride and joy to me and I feel sorrow now that I had negelceted them in the past as I dealt with my own problems. Catherine had always been a honest, incredibly intelligent and creative sister. I can remember being a bit jealous that my sister was in special classes for the extraordinarily bright and I was in the learning disability class. I never knew what made us different, but I knew I loved her with all my heart. When I was 14 and she was 13 I was sent away to bording school and my mother who’d been working away from home for long hours began to draw further and further away from home. My father never knew how to deal with teenagers to a point that my mom sometimes called him her fifth kid (the dog being the forth). He would yell at us and we would yell at him. It was the year my sister went to high school and I went away that my sister was diagnosed with AD/HD and depression. I can’t tell you exactly where it started, but the day that I learned that my sister abused her ritalin my heart stood still. I would later also learn that she was doing weed, crack and was drinking alchol having the expermentation with ritalin that led to it. My sister was the world to me and as my mom drove me home and spoke calmly about my sister’s addiction I was screaming in my heart and in my very soul. I had come into contact with other who’d abused their medication and had discovered the consequences before my eyes. I have never done drugs, smoked or drunk alchol. I despited the very use of it and to hear that my little sister, my baby sister was doing it nearly killed me. I would later sit for hours trying to figure out a way to approach her, to tell her how much I loved her and that I would be there for her, but I knew she would just laugh at me or reject me and I thought
the closer I was to my sister the better I could help. I hurt me so much to see her in pain. I remember an incident when I complimented her with, “Catherine you’re pretty” and she finnished it with “Ya, pretty funny looking!” She soon lost all her friends to rumors, she lost her self-respect and I guess she lost her love for our parents. Parents who she once refused to let go of. Every attempt my family made to help her, she turned away in anger. Every offered hand was slapped away.
The abuse of Ritalin is not only bad for the victim, but for the family, the friends and the community. She was not only effecting herself… she was hurting others. Soon our family was falling apart because of many tensions. At times I blamed myself… “If only I could of told her how much I loved her… that I would kill myself for her… and the respect I had for her.” I can’t see her like that any more. All I can see is a false smile, lies and daunting difficulties. She hurt me, yes, but I still love her and as I write this I am crying. I ask you to think before you act, to listen and to seek help when it’s needed. I ask you this because personally I would ask the same of my sister before it started, but now I can’t it’s too late and even though now she is recieving help I don’t know if she’ll ever be my little sister I lost so long ago.
I love you Catherine.
