I love my younger brother

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He's been a pain, and an annoyance, and a liar and thief since he was a kid.  I actually got him (in a fit of hubris) to admit that he *did* sell all my stuff when I left for college over these Xmas holidays.

Still, he's family.  I've never wished him ill fate (though he got plenty of that).  In fact, what happened to him I wouldn't have wished on anyone.

That said, I put my folks in a bind.  I've disagreed with their treatment of him since I more clearly understood his condition last year when he stayed with me.  I've pretty much confirmed my understanding with my sisters, and I think that (at least the siblings) are in lock-step on this topic.

I was aghast at the length of his leash.  The kid doesn't have two neurons to rub together on any given day, and yet, my parents are still in denial and treat him as 'normally' as they can (which leads him to these insane grandiose stances).

He's brain-damaged.  He's not got a lick of sense.   He's still a liar, and a thief (and unfortunately a decent magician, still, who can palm damn near anything smaller than a shirt pocket).

But his six-year old niece caught him stealing her candy (and after catching him, caught him palming the evidence into his pocket).  Yano, you really can't fool one who is still in the 'beginners mind'.

My own personal bitch is that my folks have spent the last two decades trying to make him feel 'normal' rather than addressing and coping with his (copious) deficiencies.

So, when they gave him the task of 'waking me up' to tell me they were on their way to pick us up, and he called my hotel room (next to his, on their dime) to chat about his high-school friends (in the early hours of the AM, before 10, when polite people don't call to 'chat'), I hung up on him.  I took the phone off the hook because I knew that my hanging up on him (w/short term memory loss) would last about five minutes, and my folks had my cell-phone number.

Now, nobody has fessed up, but I expect that it was him who tried to break into my room during my shower that morning (I heard it and chalked it up to housekeeping, since it was just my first day, but it became obvious later that the hotel never sent anyone in to do doodly squat--'suites' yano?).

My Xmas was pretty scattered--my dad rousting me out of my room with my hair only half-tied, my teeth unbrushed, etc., since they were 'waiting'  because they'd entrusted my brother with the 'message' that they were coming, but all he really can do is deliver his internal monologue.

The reason I'm writing this out is because of the rather obvious nature of their 'gift' (I had plenty of places to stay, all better than the hotel).  We were supposed to stay till Tuesday night (their departure date).  When I checked out a day early, they checked him out beforehand (and never even bothered to call me to say goodbye, even though they knew I was leaving).

In other words, it was patently obvious that they just bought the hotel room for me in order to make it look as if the fact that they had to put my imbecile brother up in the hotel was 'normal' (since I was there, too).

I find that somewhat offensive.  I'd have said that to their faces if they'd bothered to ask, but they didn't bother.

My sisters won't suffer him to stay with them because he's a disruptive and annoying addition to the mix.

I'll suffer him to hang around me, but on the condition that he acknowledges his condition and ceases to act as if he's not got 'issues' (rather than he's 'normal').  Of course, my last assessment left him damn near suicidal (rational response to his condition, IMHO), but that's life (or death).

In any event, the net result was my mother trying the same-old 'guilt trip' thing on me ("Well, if that's the way you see it, then I guess you won't see me again, either").  I handed her her hat ("I guess that's the case, so, see you later, mom").

I like my family, but I'm not intending ever again to merely be a platform for making my brother 'feel' normal.  If they don't want to tell him that he's not normal, and he needs to consider that most people have *no* interest in his monologue, that's their business. 

It's not like he's not trainable.  It was obvious that he wanted to spare himself the embarrassment of being assessed as an idiot in front of others (and he knew that if he opened his mouth in my presence again, that would be the response).  If I can control his aberrant behavior that easily, it's clear that it's not impossible for him to be polite.

It's also clear that my parents are giving him license to be obnoxious and rude to family, friends, and strangers, and are willing to disparage their other children in order to foster his self-esteem.

But, at least, this won't happen with my time again.  I plan to spend exactly zero percent of the future listening to this drivel.

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About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by writch published on January 1, 2010 5:14 PM.

It's a Wonderful Life was the previous entry in this blog.

There is an Angel sent to watch over you. is the next entry in this blog.

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