Losing a Family Member

It's a very strange thing, but I'm use to having family members either die or leave. My father died when I was two, my mom left me with my abusive grandparents when I was three, but she came back when I was four. My two sisters left me somewhere around that age, and then recently my aunt died of cancer. There are other family members, mind you, but those are the ones that I remember the most.

Much of my personal opinions on life have been shaped from those experiences, obviously. Instead of becoming angry or depressed, I've learned to become apathetic to most people that I meet. That doesn't mean that I'm cold to others, quite the opposite. I've learned to value the time I have with them, mostly because I've discovered most everyone I've ever met has at one point disappointed or let me down in some way. I'm perfectly fine with that, I'm sure I've done the same to others.

Well, the reason I bring this up is because I lost another family member. Two actually. My sisters, who I found not three months ago, have officially begun to ignore me. The reason why is simple: they found out I drink. They have a history of dealing with family members who are alcoholics and have, as a team, decided they will never allow anyone into their lives if that person drinks.

In the last three months, while I've known them in my adulthood, I've drank two bottles of rum, half a bottle of Jack Daniels, and about a bottle of vodka. Keep in mind that I only ever drink when I'm with friends. So out of all of that booze I am forced to wonder how much of it that I actually drank. Hell, my addiction to El Pollo Loco and pizza on Sundays is more dangerous. I'm probably one of the most secure drinkers as well. I willfully avoided getting my drivers license so that I would never drive drunk, I never drink to the point of blacking out, and I know my limit and try my hardest to stop a shot before I reach it. Nevertheless, my sisters decided that I drink far too much and they do not want me in their life.

I want to be angry and I want to shake them. In truth, however, I've come to expect such things. The only part that hurts in all of this is that they were the last remnant of my family that I still clung onto. For a while there I was an uncle, I was a brother, and most importantly I had two sisters I loved.

I tried my best to be a good brother. It wasn't until last week that I found out they were very anti drinking - they didn't even warn me. Yet, it was also the same week that they began to ignore me. Oh well, I'll mourn them as I mourned my dead aunt: from afar and without much thought.

-Irish

P.S.: None of this was proofread or edited.