My only older brother. My real one. I'm losing him, and I feel like it's all my fault.
My family and I have always had problems with him, ever since he was in middle school. That's where he really began to worsen. Every time he comes home from college, every time he asks my dad for money, every time he steal money from me, he's shitting on my family. He drinks, smokes, does drugs, and does a ton of crazy shit that I barely even know about. I'm a spoiled upper middle class white boy, in a spoiled upper middle class town, living happily with my spoiled upper middle class family. I should be happy, right? I get everything I want, I excel in school, I have good morals and I'm not spoiled rotten, I got to church, I do my work, I've never gotten detention, I've been respectful most of the time...what did I do wrong? Why did he turn out differently? Why did he have to make my mom cry?
I should probably explain before I go into a depressed rant again. My brother is home from college for the weekend. Last night, my mom was out and my dad was sleeping, so he comes up to me and asks me who's money is on the table. I said it's my dads, and he goes ahead and takes a dollar from the bundle. I told him to put it back, that he'd regret it, but he just kept smiling at me and laughing like an idiot. He asked me why he'd regret it, and I told him that I would tell dad, as this isn't the first time he's stolen money. He just laughs and as he walks out the door, I call him a pothead. He turns around and walks up to me, getting really close, smiling and laughing, and my heart starts beating fast. At this moment I'm terrified of him, of what he might do to me. After a minute, he turns around and says a few things before leaving and speeding off in the car.
At this point, I'm no longer scared for my safety; I'm scared for his. I thought that he might do something stupid out of anger, all because of what I said. I got so scared that I needed to talk to a friend of mine online for a few minutes, just to get it all off my chest. After I'm done, I decide to call him on his cell and apologize for everything: for insulting him, for not trusting him, for acting like an ass towards him, everything. I thought that what I said really hurt him, and that my earnest words would get through to him. Well, turns out that that wasn't the case. He wasn't affected at all by what he said, he didn't even care. A few minutes later my mom walks in and sees me on my computer after my usual bed time, and gets really mad at me. She takes my computer away, and tells me to get upstairs. I do that, going straight to bed, and sleeping.
The next morning, this morning, I wake up and tell my mom everything that happened last night: about the money, about me staying up in worry, etc. Now I was planning on staying up later anyway, but I wasn't lying; I really did stay up worrying about him, later than I should have. After I do that, my parents talk to my big brother, and of course, they start fighting for the millionth time. I try to ignore it, as I usually do, and eventually we all go to Sunday mass, minus my brother.
When we get home, things are going fine. I'm eating lunch, my dad and my uncle are talking, and I'm just about to go study. But then my mom and my brother start talking again, seeing that my brother had gone on a tantrum-fueled rampage through his room while we were at church. I stayed in my room, scared out of my mind as I listened to them fight. Finally, I just couldn't take it anymore. I walked over to his room and told my mom to leave for a minute, so I could talk to him. After all, it was between me and him. She had nothing to do with it. Well, things didn't exactly go as planned, because my brother kept on yelling, pointing at me and saying it was my fault, and that I was a piece of shit and that he couldn't even look at me...
And that's when I snapped. Everything I'd been holding back for the past years, I just yelled right in his face. I've felt powerless before him while my parents fought day after day, week after week, but I was finally putting my foot down and telling him everything. How he made mom feel when he threw tantrums, how I felt when he came home, how he was never the brother I wanted, how he should just get out of our house and leave us alone....and nothing worked. Nothing I said got through to him at all. He just kept screaming and yelling at my mom and I...and I couldn't do anything. I walked back into my room and sat on my bed, watching my legs shake out of control as I listened to the fight continue. Once my legs finally decided to stop, I got up and walked out of my room, and told my dad I was going for a walk.
I walked over to church for the second time today, and sat in the empty chapel, praying and crying. I felt so helpless, so powerless up against him. I prayed and prayed, and calmed myself down, and after I was calm I sang to myself in the empty church. I sang mass music, as that usually calms me down. After a half an hour, I decided to walk home and face him once again, only to find that the house was quiet. The fight was over.
I talked with both my mom and dad, explaining how I felt, and what I did wrong, and how sorry I was. They both said I did nothing wrong, and that he was the only one hurting the family. I promised my mom, I swore to God that I would never do anything to break her heart like he did.
My brother is currently packing up his stuff and leaving for school once again. I'm literally listening to him pack as I type this thread. My brother has caused me and my family so much grief over the years, being arrested twice on top of all of his crazy shit. Do you know what it feels like for a thirteen year old kid to hold his crying mother in his arms as she sits on the bed of her arrested son, wondering where she and her husband had gone wrong? I figured out how that felt two years ago. Do you know how it feels to have your father, who's never gotten very angry with you over the little things you've done, lose his temper and start yelling at the top of his lungs at the person that treated them both like objects over the years, as tools? I found out how that felt...well, most days back when he was living at home.
I'm losing my brother. Every day I feel like he's slipping away from this family. When I was in church today, I looked at my palm leaf (for those of you who aren't Christian, today is Palm Sunday, where we all receive palms in remembrance of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey), and I noticed that one of its strains had strayed off, and separated from the rest of the plant. I know it sounds stupid and overly symbolic, but I feel like that that strain is my brother, straying off from the family that loves him even after all he's done. I don't know what to do. Talking doesn't help, neither does yelling. I literally can't do anything to get through to him, and I'm...I'm just done with dealing with him. I have more important things to worry about than some literal teen baby throwing a tantrum over something so trivial.
I'm sorry that you all had to read that, I just needed to rant somewhere. The words kind of just slipped off of my fingers. Please, those of you who are spiritual, pray for my brother that he may come back to my family and turn a new leaf. Those of you who aren't, please just keep my parents and him in your thoughts. I'm sorry...I feel like this is my fault. I know it's not, my parents told me it's not, but I can't help but feel like this. I know it sounds selfish, taking the attention for myself and everything...I don't know. Half the stuff I typed probably doesn't make sense.
Anyway, thank you for taking the time to listen. I appreciate it. When my brother is home, know that this is the place that I turn to for solitude. I owe this site a hell of a lot.