S1E7: A Sister's Tribute- Heartache, Hope and Humanity of Addiction

The hardest stories to tell are the ones that matter most. We open our hearts to share a sister’s life, loss, and grief—while confronting the painful truth that love alone can’t solve a complex crisis. What starts as a personal remembrance becomes a wider discussion on addiction, trauma, mental illness, and the limits families run into when care systems fall short. We talk about her early path into substance use, the many attempts at treatment, and the community that showed up to honor her when she passed. Along the way, we reclaim the parts of her that deserve to lead the story: the laugh that lit a room, the fierce love, the playful spirit. We also name what too often goes unsaid—that boundaries can be love, especially when children need safety, and that caregivers carry invisible scars while doing their best in impossible circumstances.

From there we wish to widen the lens with a plea for long-term, trauma-informed treatment, how co-occurring mental health conditions complicate recovery, and why stigma keeps pushing people to the margins. Our ask is simple and urgent: see the person, not the label; see the daughter, not the diagnosis. If you’re standing with someone in the thick of it, you’re not invisible. If you’re grieving, you’re not broken. And if you’re struggling right now, your life still matters—today still counts. If this conversation resonates, share it with someone who longs to feel seen. Subscribe for more honest stories, leave a review to help others find the show, and tell us: what does compassion look like where you are? If you or someone you love needs support:

CRISIS HELP

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — Call or Text 988

Crisis Text Line — Text HOME to 741741

ADDICTION & MENTAL HEALTH

SAMHSA National Helpline — 1-800-662-4357

Find Treatment — https://findtreatment.gov

NAMI — https://www.nami.org

Al-Anon — https://al-anon.org

Nar-Anon — https://nar-anon.org

HOMELESSNESS

Dial 211

National Coalition for the Homeless — https://nationalhomeless.org

CHILD & TRAUMA SUPPORT

National Child Traumatic Stress Network — https://www.nctsn.org

RAINN — 800-656-HOPE or https://rainn.org

Chapters

• 0:00 Content Warning And Care Note
• 0:22 Season Context And Solo Setup
• 1:00 The Story is Love
• 1:37 Remembering Carie
• 3:14 Why Tell This Story Publicly
• 4:10 Funeral Reflections And Community
• 4:58 Words She Had To Say
• 6:41 Remembering the Person Beyond Addiction

Transcript

Sherry: 0:00

We have a content warning for today's episode. This episode includes discussion of substance use, mental illness, homelessness, trauma, and loss. Please take care of yourself while listening. Step away if you need to and return when you're ready. Resources are listed at the end of our show notes for this episode.

Sherry: 0:22

Okay, it's been a minute. It's hard to believe we're getting close to the end of season one. To our loyal listeners, we want to first say thank you. You may have noticed that our publishing schedule has slowed recently. Um, grief has a way of doing that, changing everything, your pace, your energy, your ability to show up. We're approaching a couple tough anniversaries. But we knew we couldn't begin closing out season one without this episode. It's just going to be me today, but Jody will be back for the next one before we get ready to end our first season. So before I share anything else today, I want to make sure that this episode is a story of love, not just loss. If you've been with us for a while, you know that this podcast was inspired by my dad's reminder shortly before his passing that this is it. But it was fueled by the life and loss of my sister. And there are many layers of her story, and this is just one of them. I wanted to take today's episode to remember that she mattered.

Sherry: 1:37

My sister Carrie was only 14 years old when addiction entered her life. Then it followed her for more than 20 years. We went to treatment so many times, we lost count. Everyone who loved her tried everything we knew how to try. We searched and searched for answers. We believed the next step might finally bring her home. But eventually the sickness outpaced our ability to fight it. And a year ago, she died homeless and alone. And that reality lives so heavy in our hearts.

Sherry: 2:11

So, how can I come on here and tell a story that is so deeply traumatic and personal? Because it tells a story of how deep this crisis really runs, and it reminds us of our humanity, which seems so often forgotten anymore. It's a reminder of how one bad decision can change the course of your entire life, no matter who is in your corner. Because when she died, the funeral parlor was full. Hundreds of people came, people who loved her, people who carried pieces of her story with them into that room, people who tried to help her in so many ways, uh, in ways that most people will never see or begin to comprehend. And yet this is how it ended.

Sherry: 2:57

And we live with the guilt, we live with the questions, and we live with the ache of knowing that love alone couldn't save her. And that truth carries a kind of guilt that no family ever expects to carry, and it's something we will carry forever. I know that she wanted freedom from that life more than anyone could imagine, and she still died. Because what she was facing required care beyond what we could give. If love was enough, she would still be here.

Sherry: 3:26

I know people will have opinions, and that's okay. I'm not sharing this to sensationalize, I'm not sharing this to be agreed with. I'm sharing it because behind every story of addiction is a human being worth seeing. And we keep forgetting that. At Carrie's funeral last December, I wrote something that I planned to share. But when her 13-year-old daughter stood up and spoke with courage far beyond her years, I felt compelled to stay seated. That moment was hers. Those were the words her mom needed to hear most, and the words she needed to say. Today, I'm going to share my words as her sister. I'm sharing for the families who tried and for those who are still fighting.

Sherry: 4:22

This is what I wanted to say. No words feel large enough for this kind of loss. For years we grieved pieces of her along the way. Now we carry the final weight of that grief. If there is comfort at all, it's knowing that she is at peace. Free from the pain she carried, free to be who she always was beneath the struggle. She lit up rooms with her laugh, she loved fiercely, she was playful, adventurous, bold, and kind. Hold on to those memories, because they are her truth. She faced battles that would have broken anyone, and even when her light dimmed, there was always a girl longing to be free. Her heart was so big, her love was always real. Remember her for how she lived, outside of her addiction. As a sister, a friend, a daughter, a mother, her life mattered. Carry forward what she showed us with compassion, forgiveness, faith, endurance, and gratitude for the good.

Sherry: 5:31

Carie, you are always loved, you are forever missed, and you live on in us. So those are the words I wanted to say. And here are a few more words for loved ones walking this ugly road. Carie was deeply loved by family, by friends, by people who searched for answers alongside her for years. But addiction can't be carried by love alone. My sister wasn't just struggling with substances, she was carrying trauma, mental illness, and ultimately drug-induced psychosis. I will spare the details, but in the middle of that there were two little girls growing up amidst that storm. And I have been raising our daughters since they were six months old and three years old. And the strength that they carry humbles me every single day. Carrie loved those girls fiercely, and they carry her, not as a shadow but as part of who they are becoming. They are beautiful, they are resilient, they are growing, not despite hardship, but with the courage from it. However, when safety became a concern, boundaries became necessary. Not as a rejection, but as a protection, not as a punishment, but as a responsibility. Because loving my sister also meant loving her children. This episode only asks one thing of our listeners. See the person, not the label, see the daughter, not the diagnosis. So, yes, better systems do matter, and long-term supports are needed and matter. But until that changes, as we work toward that, we can't forget the people matter. In his final days, my dad was sure to remind us this is it. So, this is it. A moment of compassion. If you're standing beside someone battling addiction, you are not invisible. If you had to choose boundaries for protection, you're not heartless. If you're grieving deeply, you're not broken. And if you're struggling right now, please hear this. Your life still matters. This is it. And that means today still counts. There is help, there is hope, there's another step. And there is lots of work to be done. It's not easy, but you're worth it. Help is available 24-7 nationwide at the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. Down 988 to connect with the trained crisis counselor for free and confidential support. If you are local to the Pittsburgh area, Resolve Crisis Services offer 24-7 Crisis Intervention and Stabilization Services to all Allegheny County residents. You can reach them by calling 1-888-796-8226. This podcast is for informational and entertainment purposes only. Nothing shared on this podcast should be considered professional advice.

Sherry: 8:36

In memory of Carie Frances Wenger ~ 9/25/1986-12/4/2024 ~