Heartbreak is something I’m all too familiar with in my 27 years of life. Some of which caused by romantic relationships but more often, by my family relationships instead. You may or may not have read earlier in this blog that I have a now non-existent relationship with my Dad, downgraded from a strained relationship at best. So bad that he told me he doesn’t want to come to my wedding, and basically cutting me off as his daughter. Fine, what the fuck ever.
Next up on my long list of reasons to be sad is my little brother. The one who is supposed to walk me down the aisle at my wedding in place of my Dad. He is 25 years old… and he’s in big trouble now.
He has a history of issues, most of which I would like to blame my Dad directly for. Addiction issues, specifically. My brother has always been emotionally unstable and self medicates with opiates. For the past few years, he’s been on an opiate replacement therapy which has done nothing to help him because the addiction was still thriving. In recent months, he moved back in with my mother and has been literally sleeping in a closet under her stairwell because there are no bedrooms left with my grandmother also living there. He moved back in because the lease on his apartment was up, him and his girlfriend had no means to get another place. So now they live at their parent’s homes, a few miles away from each other.
The girl is bad news too. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore her… but she has her own share of issues that (when combined with my brother’s) make for a fucked up relationship and detrimental support system. They go from happy love dove to screaming and fighting in my parent’s driveway at 3:30am.
Now that you have all this stupid fucking background information, here is the problem: The past 2 weeks my brother has been increasingly unstable… going from helping my grandmother do laundry to screaming at her and my little siblings for looking at him the wrong way. Then stuff started going missing. My grandmother’s debit card & $500 from her account, her wedding band, my mom’s tennis bracelet, money from kid piggy banks…. My brother is stealing from my family. Presumably to raise money to buy drugs. This suspicion was confirmed when his girlfriend got arrested last week. My mom was awoken at 3:00am by police banging on her door because in his haste to “rescue” his damsel in distress, my brother left my grandmother’s car parked on the side of a road with the interior lights on.
So my mom and step-dad have been working on a plan. We all know that his “condition” is spiraling out of control and quite honestly… we’ve been worried sick that he will try to kill himself as his depression and addiction continue fucking up his mind. The original plan was to sit him down this weekend and give him an ultimatum to admit himself to an in-patient rehab program or get the fuck out of their house. Sadly it couldn’t wait until this weekend. Yesterday my mom came home early from work and heard the shower running. When she called in to my brother to let him know she was home, there was no answer. She went INSIDE the bathroom and again called to him, no answer. Fearing the worst, she pulled the shower curtain back and he literally flipped the fuck out.
Screaming, punching the walls, banging his head on the walls…. saying shit like “None of you care about me, you just want me locked up! Well I’ll be dead before you know it, don’t you worry about me!”
My poor fucking mom :( My Aunt has been a nurse in mental health facilities for a long time and has tried to help her behind the scenes. One thing that she made perfectly clear was that if he EVER talks or acts like he will take his own life, call the cops immediately. So she did. And now he is locked up in the psych ward of their local hospital until a bed opens at a rehab facility. I feel so completely helpless… I’m 2 hours away and can’t do anything for anyone. I can’t help my mom with the kids or keep my grandmother busy who is a fucking emotional wreck… All I can do is keep checking in and hoping that my brother can come back from this.
I’m scared for him.
I’m worried for my mom’s health.
I’m fucking heart-broken.
Related Post: My Dad broke up with me.