Intervention

Intervention is like the saddest show ever. 

I never really have time to just sit back and really watch TV when I'm at school, but I came back to my house in Cambridge tonight, curled up on the couch with my sister and some chinese food, and indulged in some Intervention time. (After I finished my 3+ hours of stupid homework I had to do, of course). 

The show gets to me every time. It's just so real. I'm sure this isn't very blog-friendly, but I have an aunt who I love very much, and she has become really dependent on prescription drugs in the past two years. After my grandmother died, April 8th 2007 (it's funny I still remember that date), her problem escalated, and she's not even a real person anymore. She doesn't leave her house; she hasn't been to work (she works at a hospital, nonetheless) for over 4 months. 

My mother, who was her best friend her whole life, doesn't talk to her anymore; they had a falling out concerning my grandmother after her death, when everyone's emotions were still very fragile. The thing that kills me about this is that I know that my grandmother is looking down from heaven and feeling sad about the situation. My aunt (who is not my blood relative, my grandmother did raise her) has no family but us; she has one son who doesn't talk to her anymore and her brothers are dying away one by one. She has no one and no one in my family but my sister can even talk to her; she won't really let anyone in. 

It's hard because I am away at school most of the time so I never really invest any time in seeing her, either. Last time I did, though, she was a size 6- before that, the last time I saw her she was a 22! How does anyone lose over 150 pounds in less than a year? It's horrifying. 

My sister and I are construing a plan to hold an intervention with her. It probably sounds corny and stupid, but we are hoping to get most of our family in one room with her and ask her to get some help. 

I talked to my dad about it, and he told me that if she doesn't kick her addiction soon, he can guarantee she won't be alive by Christmas. That thought terrifies me.