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  • Last night she reached out for the first time for help. We can't help her anymore. I tried to explain that she's a grown up now and our hands are tied but I don't know if that's true.

    I've been hurt, confused and brokenhearted for almost twelve years now. I used to try. I made appointments, staged mini-interventions and professed sisterly love and support at the drop of a hat.

    Now I'm tired. So many things stolen from me- literally and figuratively- to the point that I have nothing left to give.

    So I'm clinging to possibilities. I'm hoping against hope that this time next year things will be better. That I will go away and come home to someone who is well.

    I'm hoping against hope that the clock won't run out on her and she'll survive this.
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