Don’t Feed the Crazy

That, dear readers, is my New Years’ Resolution.

I’m not sure I even want to get into what’s going on…bullet points, shall we?

• My sister kicked my addict brother out of her apartment
• She was then afraid to go home, asked me to go there with her
• I explained the situation to both of my parents, and told them I would call the police if things got too rowdy.
• My dad was fine with it. My mother FLIPPED out on me and told me not to "dare" to call the cops.
• I was LIVID. It’s not the first – nor will it be the last – time she has put his addiction over my safety
• I explained how hurt and angry I was to her very calmly after the situation had defused a bit.
• The next day was Christmas Eve. OH GOOD.
• My sister tries to corner me and talk about my brother. I tell her, calmly, that I am done and I’m sorry, I won’t listen.
• Did I mention my brother shows up and immediately starts drinking? He looks like fucking shit.
• My sister, angry with me, storms off.
• I’m ready to write off Christmas. I go into the bathroom and silent scream for a bit.
• My parents show up, and my dad is DEAD. SILENT. OH GOOD.
• We spend an awkward dinner together.
• Thank God for Sean. He takes me through the light display in the park and tries to put me in the Christmas mood. It works for a bit. After my family re-congregates at my house for a few moments to awkwardly discuss dinner tomorrow, we turn on the tree and spend time together.
• To reiterate…thank God for Sean.
• My family has finally done what they’ve been trying to do for the past few years. They have made me hate Christmas.
• I debate about going to dinner the next day and finally do. My dad is happy to see us, but ignores my mom. They’ve been fighting, of course. I later find out that it’s because dad had no idea my brother would be at my place. I didn’t either.
• My mother ends up crying her eyes out, and I comfort her as best I can.
• We miraculously manage to have an ok dinner.
• My brother doesn’t show up.
• My sister shows up late and mopes until I basically yell at her at the table.
• A few days pass. My dad calls me on his birthday, very angry. He doesn’t want to celebrate this year. He doesn’t want a party. Most of all, he doesn’t want my brother there.
• We talk for about 45 minutes. We’re both upset. We’re both tired. Dad is depressed and hurt and angry. We talk a lot about what’s going on. I think he feels better when we hang up.
• My sister is UP MY ASS. Constantly texting, FBing, what-have-you.
• I…just don’t want to deal with her. After she got angry with me for trying to not feed into her drama, after all the help I tried to give and had shoved up my ass…I’m done. Kim bitched about Steve still having a key, yadda yadda yadda – but when she had the chance, she never tried to take the key back from him. I can’t help someone who refuses to help themselves. And I won’t feed into the drama anymore.
• My mother and Kim have been having secret pow-wows about my brother. Whispering in the kitchen during Christmas, hanging out at night together….
• FINE. Let them go do it, man. I can’t anymore. I truly just can’t.
• The last decade-plus of my life has been about my brother’s addiction. No. More. I am putting my foot down.
• I mourned his loss in the hospital, when he was in complete denial that his health problems had anything to do with his addiction. I knew then that he wasn’t my brother any longer. The addiction had taken over. And I knew that he would end up killing himself.
• As sick as it sounds, I’ve made my peace with it. I tried to intervene one last time in the hospital, and it didn’t work. I’m not Superwoman. I can’t make him want to change.
• I also can’t stop my mother and sister from enabling him any longer. I can’t try to talk logically to them. I can’t beg. I can’t cry. I can’t get angry and stomp my feet. Nothing will work. Nothing.
• I can’t be around my own mother right now. She put her son’s addiction over my safety. I knew that Steve would always have privileges, he would always be her baby…. But never had I had it put into such glaring, horrifying perspective like that. She will always love Stephen over me.
• I’m messed up about that. Because I am a good person. I try very hard. And in a lot of ways, that has been to try to win my mom’s love. At least it started that way. Now, I know I never will win that. It’s just unattainable.
• So I need some space from the whole thing.
• I don’t think my relationship with my mom will be the same ever again. I don’t think it can be. My heart has been over-burdened for too long, and I have taken too much on my shoulders and received no consideration in return. It’s a toxic situation, and I don’t want to put myself in it any longer.

So. That’s that. Once we move, I’m seriously considering some therapy to help me get some clarity. Right now, though, I am numb. I teared up a little writing this, but no tears flowed. I’m hollow and empty about the whole situation. It’s very strange.