A Retrospective on Unnecessary Loss for World AIDS Day

 When you think about me, probably “drugs” aren’t the first thing you think of. Maybe you think about music and theater, languages and poetry, nature and children. Maybe you think of overachievement or cat snuggles or about intentionality. Maybe you think about messy cars or obsessive data sheets. All of those are valid.

But something less rosy has also become a part of my story: recreational drug use. It has had a big effect on my life, and this year, it has really hit me hard.

I’m not talking about medication. I don’t know how I would survive without certain of my medicines, and under a doctor’s care, certain drugs serve medical purposes. I’m talking about drugs that you find on the street or from so-called friends, drugs that could be laced with heaven-only-knows-what, drugs that aren’t monitored and which alter your brain function.

There’s a little girl I loved for many years. She came to my family right after her first birthday. This little girl loved to dance. She loved to sing and twirl and take walks with me. She loved to push back and give folks an attitude, too…Sometimes I grew really frustrated with her, especially as she became a big girl and then a young woman. But she was always my little sister.

Even when she drove me crazy, I knew that her sass was her strength and was a necessary coping mechanism. She was born to a heroin addict. She was born with an addiction to drugs, and with other health issues to boot. Her intellectual functioning and her physical wellness were both threatened due to choices her mother made, or the illness of addiction her mother experienced.

My little sister spent more time in the hospital than I would care to remember. Then, when she reached her late teens, she found drugs on her own. It tore us apart at times. Eventually, at 23, she lost her life.

I am the person I am in part because Mel was my little sister. This goes for my strengths as well as my challenges. She died in 2007 but I have decades of memories that dance in my soul and in my actions.

Sometimes, I think about how she could have been had her mother not been an addict, or if she hadn’t discovered drugs as an adolescent. I remember her telling me that she didn’t expect to live long so she just wanted to have fun. I wonder if she could have lived longer and still had fun.

This year, for the first time, I have had interactions where I have been accused of not being fun because I don’t use pot. I’ve been told that it’s “not a drug” and that I should not act like it’s a bad thing.

I understand there are generations of artists who have benefited from chemical creativity. But I value real interactions. I value being able to drive places without being afraid that fellow drivers are under the influence of drugs or alcohol. I value friendships that are comfortable enough to share emotions without needing crutches.

It’s December 1st, World AIDS Day. I am grateful for the research that has made HIV less of a death sentence in the US, and for societal changes that have offered the Pride movement. While I am worried that funding for medical research and support for diversity may be diluted in the administration to come, I know that parts of my sister’s world might have been less traumatic had she been born now.

Drugs, however, continue to be a big problem. I do live a sheltered life. And I have friends would may consider me prudish and out of touch for not accepting some substances which are technically legal in the state where I live. They’ll claim that there are different degrees of dangers with different drugs and point out that my penchant for soda (I call it “sin drink”) is just as dangerous.

But this year, I think how my sister would have turned 41 on Thanksgiving this year. She never got to hear her niece sing at Carnegie Hall or meet her other niece or nephews. She never got to feel life after the hormonal rage of adolescence. I wish I could have seen more dances; it would have been fun to even have her choreograph shows to my music directing.

So when I give a sad look when conversation shifts to marijuana or any other recreational drug, please understand. I don’t want to lose other people. Life is too precious.All reactions:

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