Family makes you question your sanity. Prior to cancer, I was the only one (on my side of my nuclear family), that had her shit together. My parents had money problems and my brother has so many problems (but they’re not due to drugs).

This will be about my brother and is really long.

Growing up, he was my brother. We played together, went to school together, and covered each other’s asses when we could. Well, my brother would get in trouble almost all the time. He liked to talk back. My mom told me that even as a baby, he pretty much cried or was angry all the time.

My father was strict and seemed angry all the time. My mother and father did hit us. Mostly on the ass, but with things like hairbrushes and belts.

My parents never really went to our curricular activities. Of course, they were both working a lot. My brother and I were latchkey kids.

As my brother got older, he had issues at public school. He didn’t get along with teachers, never really had friends. My parents had him transferred him out at the Age of 13 to a “special” school. He was the oldest one there and ended up being a mentor to younger kids. Those younger kids were mostly mentally challenged. Remember: this is before ADD, ADHD, etc.. They had no way to fix his issues. After a year, he came out of that school and went to a vocational school. He did very well. He was a very talented welder.

When we were teens, our whole family had been diagnosed with depression. I went to a psychologist for at least a year; my brother went once. Mom and Dad went when they needed.

As a teen, my brother was extremely mouthy and did stuff my parents asked him not too. He was pretty much an asshole. He got in “fist fights” with my Dad…he was always grounded…they were always yelling. My Dad through his video game down the stairs.

I moved out when I was 18 because he and my parents relationship was toxic.

I was happy. Thing is: I didn’t hear from my brother for another 15 to 20 years. To me, he just disappeared and my parents didn’t know where he was either.

Then I get a phone call, he needed a place to live. Well, I was living in a studio department and I didn’t know his history. I found him an apartment and paid the upfront costs and 1 months rent. I got phone calls from him for maybe 3 months.

All of a sudden, I get a call from his landlord. He hasn’t paid rent and he can’t get a hold of him. So, I met the landlord at his apartment and had him let me in. My brother wasn’t there. His shit was there. I told the landlord to throw it all away.

I didn’t hear from my brother again for about 10 years. He had called me crying, saying he was cold, living in his truck (didn’t have heat) in the hospital’s parking lot. So, I moved him into a motel (real shithole) for 2 weeks. I brought him my laptop to find a job and an apartment. He had smoked Marijuana so he had to go at least 30 days before he could get a job. I moved him in with us for a month. He found a job and an apartment.

For 10 years, he was doing okay. Although, he moved 6 times and had just as many jobs. He had to borrow my truck because his broke down.

8 years into that and I’m wondering why I haven’t heard from him and where my truck was. I found was at his last apartment/job. I asked his boss/landlord where he was. Boss said “he was in jail, but this guy is his friend. He might know where he is”. I finally talk to him on the phone and he says he’s fine. 1 month later, I get the phone call that he is homeless, living in an abandoned house. I didn’t want him coming to live with me and my husband. My husband talked me into it.

Here we are, 4 years later. He and his dog are still living with us. He uses my vehicle to get around. He thinks he owns part of this house. He does so much shit that pisses me off. He forgot to grow up…he’s petty. I’m pretty sure he’s bipolar. He refuses to get mental help. He refuses to get a real job (he’s a talented welder and here he could make $24-$28/hr to start.) He says he doesn’t want to do that anymore. He’s now a car detailer making $12/hr with no benefits. He has no health insurance. He complains that he feels really sick or hurt something – I just look at him, like wtf am I supposed to do? He does help around the house and helps pay some of the groceries. He complains every day about his childhood, and his adulthood. How everybody is an asshole. He needs constant attention and his ego stroked. You always have to say how great he is that he did something…like it’s a big fn deal.

I’m getting really tired of him. You can’t give him constructive criticism. He doesn’t listen on how to improve his life and attitude. I keep trying to get my husband to move to another state. The amount of anxiety he causes me is bad. I shouldn’t live like this and we are enabling him, but he is the best manipulator in the world.

I had to get this out. There is so much more, but I had to start somewhere.

Thank you for reading!!

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