Friday, September 19, 2008


My brother continued to show what I knew at that point to be his true colors. He went to jail (juvenile hall? I don’t know for sure), where I found out years later that my dad told him to tell people he was in there for stealing cars. Apparently some crimes are “acceptable” in jail and others are not and you get the sh!t beat out of you or even killed if you say you did what he did. Uh, I’m sorry, if you molest kids I’m pretty sure you deserve to get the sh!t beat out of you or killed.

After jail, he started “cutting” himself, he withdrew from everyone, may have done some drugs (no I don’t know for sure but why not?), dropped out of high school. All this time my parents are supporting him, letting him live in their home, draining their resources and emotions, saying he just needs us to help him, etc. They took him down south to some facility ($$$) that was “voluntary” (rehab? therapy? I don’t know). My parents stayed in a hotel while he was down there for weeks/months ($$$). He got on some medication for depression and some other disorder, psychopath or bipolar or something. They finally take him home and then he thinks he’s better and doesn’t need to take his meds so he stops. Somewhere along the way he has a job and starts bouncing checks.

None of this is enough for them. Time and time again, they make excuses, all the while I know this will end badly. I don’t give people many chances and I usually end up being right about people and the people who give more chances end up getting hurt. It’s their kid though, is what people told me. You don’t understand because you are his sister. Whatever. I think they’ve been through enough at this point to have enough reasons to kick him out of the house.

The final straw for them was when they found satanic stuff in his backpack. Their pastor advised them that their lives were in danger so THAT was a good reason to kick him out.

So they did. He slept in their backyard a few nights and was homeless for awhile. He eventually convinced some sucker friend of his and his girlfriend to let him live with them. They got married and moved to some other state, Kansas I think? Well, HE WENT WITH THEM. I mean, who does that, and as newlyweds, why would you let someone move with you?

After that, I don’t really know what happened. I was probably early twenty-something at that point and hadn’t spoken or seen him in awhile. I was very angry with him. I hated him. He had ruined our family.

And by ruin our family, I mean my dad’s side of the family was never the same. No more warm, happy holidays. No more lots of cousins to talk to and play with.

My grandparents offered to pay for therapy for me, which was very nice. My parents weren’t speaking to them because they were “siding” with my uncle. I felt like I was in the middle. I don’t know what anyone did to make me feel like I was in the middle. I know that I was put in the middle many times. But at the same time, how could I not feel torn?

I never did go to therapy. I just held on to the hate and the bitterness. I was protecting myelf. If I was still hurt and angry I would let anyone in so nobody could hurt me. I didn't speak with anyone from my dad's side of the family. They didn't try to reach out to me and I took that to mean that they didn't want to talk to me.


Manic Organic said...

Sucks, but what was past makes what we are now. We have to take it one day at a time. I am also going to have to ignor the elephant in the room (what he did) and being abused myself makes it especially hard. So I have to pretend I don't think he's sick. But maybe he has changed. If God give 7 x 7 chances, shouldn't we give one? Something to think about. We certainly aren't perfect, well at least I am not :)