Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Hyde
On a warm, bright day in the summer of 1997, I sat in the bleachers watching my baby sister play the game she loved--fast pitched softball. This day stands out in my memory not for its torridity, that made the brow of each person illuminate with perspiration, but because that is the day I realized she had something inside of her that would bring her to the very edge of madness much like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
Robert Louis Stevenson's infamous story of a man who was discovered to have been living a double life is what comes to mind as I tell the story of my sister's accomplishments and her demise. My sister, much like the character that drinks a potion made from a white powder, subsequently transforms into a devilish creature. She had an attitude that would sometimes get the better of her, but she would never raise her voice or a hand to me. She was, at that time, my sister and my friend.
Brandi, my youngest sister by five years, always had an "I am the greatest" attitude. She had a dark tan, chiseled legs and sun-kissed auburn hair that any high school girl would die for. She played every sport with a god given talent. She had a way of making it look easy. Whether it was softball, volleyball, or football, she had a drive that no one could stop.
That day, the very day my mind seems to wonder back to often, Brandi picked up her majestic softball bat and knocked the stale dirt from her shoes, as if a ritual, when she stepped to the plate. She began staring down the pitcher, letting this ill-fated girl know that this batter had no fear of her famous fast pitch. This pitcher always harbored a fear for Brandi's heavy-hitting attitude. She finally threw Brandi the pitch, the one perfect ball, which would be talked about for years to come. A pitch so perfect Brandi had no choice but to favor this one over all others. She swung with everything she had inside her and hit the ball with the intensity of a Babe Ruth home run. While the ball went screaming out of the park, she rounded the bases waving to her fans. The crowd let out a roar only comparable to a World Series cheer in the bottom of the ninth when the underdog team scores the winning run. It was the turning point of the game. She was, to say the least, quite full of herself, and I knew that a different side to her would soon be unleashed.
Jekyll believed the soul is made up of two separate segments: good and evil. These separate elements live in continuous conflict with each other. This plays into my family's history of bipolar disorder. The constant struggle with good and evil is a way of life. A long road of ups and downs, drug abuse, and life-altering feuds with family members is all that we can see in the future.
Why do you act this way? Why must you be so depressed one minute then in a frenzied, chaotic state of mind the next? These are the thoughts that we deal with on a daily basis. I, unlike my sister, saw all the questions, accusations, and demeaning looks from them.
Jennifer, why cant you and Brandi just snap out of it? she said.
You just cant snap out of being bipolar! Jesus, MOM! I screamed
The struggle one endures with bipolar disorder and the lack of emotion from family members is what pushes most people to a life of drug abuse. Their particular drug of choice is a release or escape from the hellish world of misunderstanding people.
Crystal methamphetamine is a popular drug in Jonesboro and its effects are similar to the potion that Dr. Jekyll drinks to transform himself to Mr. Hyde and vice versa. This experimentation begins Brandis journey to explore her other self, a side that she freely explores and feels no remorse for the devilish actions of Ms. Hyde. Meth, as it is commonly referred to, produces an alter ego. It is cooked in makeshift labs and sold on the street as a powder, which is snorted, swallowed, injected, or smoked. It can cause the most down-to-earth person to steal in order to chase the high that is gained from using.
I seem to recall the day I introduced Brandi to my friends, not thinking that eventually this would lead to her demise, but I was showing her off in a way. I wanted all of my friends to see that my sister was an all star player and show them that there were positive things in life. I now look back and wish that day never happened.
Brandi walked in to the room full of friends and said, Hello, you must be the people Jennifer goes on and on about."
They responded, "Yeah, we are tho-o-ose people." with a slight laughter in their voice.
Brandi sat down and starting chatting among the people in the room. Not noticing the many drugs swirling around her. The large amounts of pills, meth, weed, and ecstasy mingled with one another like a drunk at a company Christmas party. These are the things that my life focused on in order to escape. A world of theft, chaos, and a never-ending uncertainty of where friends are enemies and enemies are friends. There was a common understanding that our world was all about drugs, money, and who you fucked over to get one of the two. Trust no one! was our only motto. Brandi was now the newest victim of our world.
I was already tired of this nonstop world and entered rehab earlier this year for drug abuse and bipolar disorder. Brandi watched what the drugs did to my body and my life. Meth destroyed everything I had but it did make me oblivious to the depressing aspects that I desperately ran away from. You would become unaware of everything when you were chasing a high. This cycle is what keeps my sister trapped in her uncaring world. She is not that joyous softball player she once was but now a skinny, hateful, hollow body.
The day that she came in high and she beat me up over a simple argument was the day that I knew she was in too deep. That is where her Ms. Hyde had completely taken over.
Sunday night she came into my room and asked, "Jenn, can I borrow the car for a little while?"
I slowly awoke and managed to say, "Yes, but only for a little while. Ok?"
"Ok." she agreed as a she rushed out the door.
I woke up early that morning to find that my car was nowhere in sight. I had to be in class in an hour and that was enough to push me over the preverbal edge. I called numerous times trying to get anyone to answer the phone. I wanted to talk my sister into coming home.
Finally, a raspy voice answers as if she were asleep, "Hello?"
"Hello...what the hell do you mean hello?" I replied.
"I will be home in a minute. I just fell asleep. I'm sorry." she said.
When she walked through the door my world felt the entirety of her demonic potion. She became violent towards me and slapped me across the face. I never expected my sister to actually hit me. Yes, she had threatened before but never gone through with it. That day I saw her in a different perspective. She was not innocent. She had the heart of a thief, a liar, and worst of all an enemy.
I draw to a close with her in my heart. I have hope that my sister can get the help that she needs and piece back together the life she once had. She just has to be honest with herself and get help. Like Dr. Jekyll, she needs to write someone and ask them to remove the ingredients of the potion from her life and overcome the odds. Overcoming drug addition is not a day to day task but an hour to hour obstacle. The impossible is always possible and she will have her new beginning.
-Jaci
On a warm, bright day in the summer of 1997, I sat in the bleachers watching my baby sister play the game she loved--fast pitched softball. This day stands out in my memory not for its torridity, that made the brow of each person illuminate with perspiration, but because that is the day I realized she had something inside of her that would bring her to the very edge of madness much like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
Robert Louis Stevenson's infamous story of a man who was discovered to have been living a double life is what comes to mind as I tell the story of my sister's accomplishments and her demise. My sister, much like the character that drinks a potion made from a white powder, subsequently transforms into a devilish creature. She had an attitude that would sometimes get the better of her, but she would never raise her voice or a hand to me. She was, at that time, my sister and my friend.
Brandi, my youngest sister by five years, always had an "I am the greatest" attitude. She had a dark tan, chiseled legs and sun-kissed auburn hair that any high school girl would die for. She played every sport with a god given talent. She had a way of making it look easy. Whether it was softball, volleyball, or football, she had a drive that no one could stop.
That day, the very day my mind seems to wonder back to often, Brandi picked up her majestic softball bat and knocked the stale dirt from her shoes, as if a ritual, when she stepped to the plate. She began staring down the pitcher, letting this ill-fated girl know that this batter had no fear of her famous fast pitch. This pitcher always harbored a fear for Brandi's heavy-hitting attitude. She finally threw Brandi the pitch, the one perfect ball, which would be talked about for years to come. A pitch so perfect Brandi had no choice but to favor this one over all others. She swung with everything she had inside her and hit the ball with the intensity of a Babe Ruth home run. While the ball went screaming out of the park, she rounded the bases waving to her fans. The crowd let out a roar only comparable to a World Series cheer in the bottom of the ninth when the underdog team scores the winning run. It was the turning point of the game. She was, to say the least, quite full of herself, and I knew that a different side to her would soon be unleashed.
Jekyll believed the soul is made up of two separate segments: good and evil. These separate elements live in continuous conflict with each other. This plays into my family's history of bipolar disorder. The constant struggle with good and evil is a way of life. A long road of ups and downs, drug abuse, and life-altering feuds with family members is all that we can see in the future.
Why do you act this way? Why must you be so depressed one minute then in a frenzied, chaotic state of mind the next? These are the thoughts that we deal with on a daily basis. I, unlike my sister, saw all the questions, accusations, and demeaning looks from them.
Jennifer, why cant you and Brandi just snap out of it? she said.
You just cant snap out of being bipolar! Jesus, MOM! I screamed
The struggle one endures with bipolar disorder and the lack of emotion from family members is what pushes most people to a life of drug abuse. Their particular drug of choice is a release or escape from the hellish world of misunderstanding people.
Crystal methamphetamine is a popular drug in Jonesboro and its effects are similar to the potion that Dr. Jekyll drinks to transform himself to Mr. Hyde and vice versa. This experimentation begins Brandis journey to explore her other self, a side that she freely explores and feels no remorse for the devilish actions of Ms. Hyde. Meth, as it is commonly referred to, produces an alter ego. It is cooked in makeshift labs and sold on the street as a powder, which is snorted, swallowed, injected, or smoked. It can cause the most down-to-earth person to steal in order to chase the high that is gained from using.
I seem to recall the day I introduced Brandi to my friends, not thinking that eventually this would lead to her demise, but I was showing her off in a way. I wanted all of my friends to see that my sister was an all star player and show them that there were positive things in life. I now look back and wish that day never happened.
Brandi walked in to the room full of friends and said, Hello, you must be the people Jennifer goes on and on about."
They responded, "Yeah, we are tho-o-ose people." with a slight laughter in their voice.
Brandi sat down and starting chatting among the people in the room. Not noticing the many drugs swirling around her. The large amounts of pills, meth, weed, and ecstasy mingled with one another like a drunk at a company Christmas party. These are the things that my life focused on in order to escape. A world of theft, chaos, and a never-ending uncertainty of where friends are enemies and enemies are friends. There was a common understanding that our world was all about drugs, money, and who you fucked over to get one of the two. Trust no one! was our only motto. Brandi was now the newest victim of our world.
I was already tired of this nonstop world and entered rehab earlier this year for drug abuse and bipolar disorder. Brandi watched what the drugs did to my body and my life. Meth destroyed everything I had but it did make me oblivious to the depressing aspects that I desperately ran away from. You would become unaware of everything when you were chasing a high. This cycle is what keeps my sister trapped in her uncaring world. She is not that joyous softball player she once was but now a skinny, hateful, hollow body.
The day that she came in high and she beat me up over a simple argument was the day that I knew she was in too deep. That is where her Ms. Hyde had completely taken over.
Sunday night she came into my room and asked, "Jenn, can I borrow the car for a little while?"
I slowly awoke and managed to say, "Yes, but only for a little while. Ok?"
"Ok." she agreed as a she rushed out the door.
I woke up early that morning to find that my car was nowhere in sight. I had to be in class in an hour and that was enough to push me over the preverbal edge. I called numerous times trying to get anyone to answer the phone. I wanted to talk my sister into coming home.
Finally, a raspy voice answers as if she were asleep, "Hello?"
"Hello...what the hell do you mean hello?" I replied.
"I will be home in a minute. I just fell asleep. I'm sorry." she said.
When she walked through the door my world felt the entirety of her demonic potion. She became violent towards me and slapped me across the face. I never expected my sister to actually hit me. Yes, she had threatened before but never gone through with it. That day I saw her in a different perspective. She was not innocent. She had the heart of a thief, a liar, and worst of all an enemy.
I draw to a close with her in my heart. I have hope that my sister can get the help that she needs and piece back together the life she once had. She just has to be honest with herself and get help. Like Dr. Jekyll, she needs to write someone and ask them to remove the ingredients of the potion from her life and overcome the odds. Overcoming drug addition is not a day to day task but an hour to hour obstacle. The impossible is always possible and she will have her new beginning.
-Jaci
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
but I cant read more than 4 lines in a row.
I am on vacation.
after reading more than 1000 pages for my finals.
reading is bad