[cazandyx]

Words could never express the agonising journey I have been on since my brother passed away in February 2014, 4 weeks before our Birthday.
14 years ago he gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, he rang me crying with joy, he said he wants to give her the childhood we were stripped off. He said she was his miracle and he couldn’t wait for me to see her.
As she grew and his love grew he started having flash backs of his childhood and visualising her being hurt and unable to comprehend how anyone could physically hurt a baby, child.
He always dabbled in drugs, cannabis, acid, you name it he tried it, mainly to self-medicate to block out childhood trauma. He always apologised for not being able to protect me, and even though he was a child he held on to that guilt. I remember as a boy he always looked sad, his asthma was really bad, we lived in fear everyday of our lives until we left home. Head fractures, bruises, belted, soap in our mouths, force fed food we didn’t like, being called black bastards and niggers every day of our lives, abused as though we had no purpose. Mother had mental health and alcohol problems; step father was an alcoholic, racist and made it quite clear that we were worthless. We weren’t allowed to talk with one another, we were forced to go out stealing, the neighbours used to feed us, begging for cigarettes and we used to go to the markets when they were clearing up to get the scraps of fruit.
He was sent away for being the ‘psycho’ he got into trouble, he used to beg the headmaster not to expel him, he would cry and fall to his feet in fear of being returned home.
I remember mother ringing the stepfather telling him to come and sort him out and he’d go into the bedroom and beat him, and Id hear him being thrown around and beaten he was screaming.
I recall coming home from a friend’s house and being told when the step father returns he said there will be blood all over the walls, when I asked whose I was told all of ours. I asked to leave the home and was told I was a selfish bitch and that if it was going to happen it was going to happen to all of us!
We were told we were thick, we were stupid, we weren’t allowed to sit in the same room as our sister when she was doing her homework, he used to turn the television over when a black person was on, when he returned drunk he’d beat the mother and say he wanted to kill us, and would come down the hallway shouting he wants to kill the black bastards, our hearts pumping in absolute fear, we went to bed dressed in case we had to jump out of the window, it was horrific what they did to us, and that’s just a snippet. Andy was dragged out of his bed the most-unforgiveable!!
Andy was an amazing father and would do everything for his daughter. That’s when he was introduced to heroin, initially his best friend, a mind blocker, but he was still able to function whilst blocking out his pain. after the first two years he was losing everything and them his partner left with his daughter, that pain was overwhelming for him. He lost his property, cars, everything..Then he hit it hard to the point of smoking £250 a day habit, his weight plummeted, the drug had consumed him. He was now ‘just a junkie’, prior to his addiction he presented as immaculate, now he was going out with sleep in his eyes with a woolly hat on, unwashed, the difference was overwhelming. We had lost Andy and despite his years of battling with the drug, we kept hoping he’d come back to us. He tried lots of times to get over it, that was agonising for him, he would say how he felt his bones were being stood on, the smell of his skin, feeling freezing cold, retching, he said it was agonising..
He didn’t care how he got the drug, he would steal but then that was something he was taught at an early age as being acceptable… he borrowed thousands of pounds, and justified every penny, everyone had given up, he had taken us into an unknown world, a world of evil, where the drug dealers treat them like dirt, but they knew they were helpless, they lose self-respect because the drug takes them into a different world.
Andy wasn’t just a dirty junkie (no one is) he was a victim of child abuse and heroin as evil as it was actually kept him alive, it was only in the latter stages of his addiction that I realised how true this actually was.
He recalled an incident when he was 5/6 yrs old when he was in the garden crying frantically trying to bury a pair of boxing gloves, his face was red and nose bloody, he said he had to hide them because the game his stepfather played with him hurt him….. ! We were on child protection throughout our lives but terrified to even open our mouths… the police were involved regular visits to the GP. Crazy world!! I remember playing football and the ball was always kicked in his face, I saw many nose bleeds and Andy would stand there and carry on playing, forcing the tears back.
I miss him so so much, we only had each other but in youth we weren’t allowed to talk, we didn’t know each other until I had my children to whom he was an amazing uncle to until my eldest was 14 yeard old, he taught them to swim, ride a bike, play squash, etc, he just adored them, I believe he showed his love for me through them.
I know in my heart he would never have chosen the life of a drug addict (no one would), I believe it’s more than just an addiction. It’s like a cancer either you are cured or it will take you.
I wish I could hug him one more time, when I remember him I remember the lost child, the child/adult holding so much pain. He said it was like a big game, and always wondered why they did what they did and continued throughout adult hood.
Selfishly I miss the only person in my life that understood my night frights and fear of the dark, despite his addiction he was aways there for me at the end of the phone at any time, we had many conversations at 3-4 am and we shared stories, we both till slept with the light on. Here’s hoping he is free from all the pain now and free to live and is loved unconditionally. I miss him so much, Im sorry I blurted out all of this, that is just a tiny bit of his journey. I pray he is wrapped in a toasty blanket and safe and free from harm. I want to keep writing, I feel Im sharing apart of him, that I don’t want to let go. Just wanting him back but knowing he is free now…. RIP Andy, I miss you sooo much.
I just wish I never judged him, and feel guilty for the anger I held inside for him at times. what a journey?? finally at peace x

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