Yesterday my Dad talked a bit about my brother and the situation and it was highlighted to me that my parents are both getting older now (late 70’s) and that I would probably always have to look out for my brother. We discussed that even with us pointing out to my brother that his drug taking has in fact done brain damage he simply can not see it. He does not think with the logic a normal person should and it is like living with a damn teenager even though he is 49. After hearing that fact I was seriously ready to bolt back into my teenage years myself and run away. I want to run away from the responsibility that I never asked for and I don’t want to have to be around to guide him and try to direct him in the right direction. Actually who the hell am I to think I know the direction he should take anyway?? And yet a part of me knows that this is true and that while still letting him live his life I do have to be ready to step in when required. My parents have been doing this all his life and I think they are worried that no one else will be around to do it when they pass. That and they are getting tired and don’t have the energy to deal with it all anymore.
Last night my brother went out and when he came home I knew that he was either drunk, stoned or both. He was all sheepish and glad to find me sitting with headphones on working on my laptop so neither of us had to make conversation. This morning he gets up and says oh shit I shouldn’t do that, I shouldn’t of driven in that state. Seriously I am dealing with the mind of a teenager, what person of his age can’t either stay the night where you get in that state, call a cab, call me (putting up with my shittyness would of been better than getting DIC or worse hurting / killing someone else on our roads. What a fucken dumb arse, seriously wake the hell up. I basically got a rev up of a very similar nature before he left for work.
Later my Dad comes around to continue helping me with the fence and he mentioned that I looked tired to which I explained that I had been up very late. I told him that I was working and didn’t see the point of going to bed to be woken up again when my brother came in by the dogs barking at his entrance. I told him that I could tell my brother was either drunk or stoned and that the dickhead had even made comment that he shouldn’t drive. My Dad’s reply was that if he is any where near those drugs again he can fuck off out of this house and out of our lives he will not help him again if he has gone back to them. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was back on the drugs. I have mentioned to my Mum that he is taking them again and her reply was for God’s sake don’t tell your father, now I can see why. Now I didn’t not tell my Dad to protect my brother in fact I did not tell my Dad to protect him from the obvious pain it would cause again and from him cutting my brother out of our life. If this was to happen my Mum would be devastated as her and my brother have an amazingly close bond. There was a time that my brother was so screwed up with drugs that for years we did not know if he was dead or alive or where in the world he was. For these years there was also a sense of sadness in my mother and I could not bear to see her like that ever again.
All of this makes me hate drugs and alcohol with such a deep passion that I didn’t even realize it was there. I am an alcoholic and have no doubt that the addiction gene is so strong in my family. Someone said would your brother go to rehab and get some help, my reply a person has to first admit that they have a problem before they can accept help for it. My brothers brain is so damaged by the drugs and I know what mental games addiction can cause that I doubt he will ever be willing to get help for something he views as not a problem.