(no subject)

I am very conflicted about something.  I honestly don't know what to think about this.

I have a brother.  I don't speak of him much.  We've never been close.  I have never really thought of him as a brother.  He was just the pain in the ass who lived in the same house and somehow came from the same parents.  I know a lot of people say things like that about their siblings but deep down they really love them or at least feel some affection towards them.  Not me.  Alex hated me from the minute I was born and that never really changed our entire lives.  I was competition for Prince Alexi just by coming into the world.  He regularly beat me up, tried to blame me for everything he did wrong - which was pretty much everything and made my life miserable.  He was horrible to my parents, dropped out of high school, dealt drugs, used drugs, got arrested quite often, made promises he never intended to keep and manipulated everyone he came in contact with.  In fact, that is the best way to sum him up: he is a master manipulator.  He was not born without talent and ability.  He was a good artist, a talented musician, a good chef.  But he would rather rip people off and run scams than ever figure out a way to earn a living honestly.

When my parents died, he was still living in our childhood home.  Or should I say the ruins of our childhood home.  He never lifted a finger to help out.  He stole from my parents, he stole from me, he sold their things right out from under them.  I had to take care of my parents, run all their errands, hire someone to move in and cook and clean and care for them as they got sicker.  Alex never helped.  All I asked him to do was the food shopping with the money I brought over each week.  He kept the money and the aide had nothing to give them for food.  So I stopped that and used Peapod to deliver the groceries so at least my parents could eat.

I'm rambling.  Sorry.

I set him up with enough money to go out to California to live.  He had an apartment, a truck he bought with the money I gave him and he should have been OK.  But that never happens with him.  I had my own problems to deal with - divorce, job loss, foreclosure, more job loss.  He called a few times but once he found out I really didn't have any more money to send him, he stopped calling for a long time.

Then about 2 years ago I got a call from a guy in CA who said he was a friend of my brother and that Alex had been in a car accident and was in bad shape.  I thanked him for the information but I really had no intention of calling him or rushing out there.  

Today I cleaned out a very old backlog of voice mail on my home phone.  I don't pay much attention to my home phone - anyone who really wants to reach one of us will call our cell phones.  In there I discovered several old messages from my brother, the guy who called me to tell me about his accident and a woman who appears to be a social worker of some kind.

If they are looking for money from me, they can forget it.  I haven't got it and even if I did I sure as hell wouldn't spend it on Alex.

I returned the calls from the social worker and the other guy but just got voice mail.  I refuse to call Alex.

I know I am a horrible person for this but after watching him try to choke my parents to death when I was a kid, I really have no feeling for him.

(no subject)

I am very conflicted about something.  I honestly don't know what to think about this.

I have a brother.  I don't speak of him much.  We've never been close.  I have never really thought of him as a brother.  He was just the pain in the ass who lived in the same house and somehow came from the same parents.  I know a lot of people say things like that about their siblings but deep down they really love them or at least feel some affection towards them.  Not me.  Alex hated me from the minute I was born and that never really changed our entire lives.  I was competition for Prince Alexi just by coming into the world.  He regularly beat me up, tried to blame me for everything he did wrong - which was pretty much everything and made my life miserable.  He was horrible to my parents, dropped out of high school, dealt drugs, used drugs, got arrested quite often, made promises he never intended to keep and manipulated everyone he came in contact with.  In fact, that is the best way to sum him up: he is a master manipulator.  He was not born without talent and ability.  He was a good artist, a talented musician, a good chef.  But he would rather rip people off and run scams than ever figure out a way to earn a living honestly.

When my parents died, he was still living in our childhood home.  Or should I say the ruins of our childhood home.  He never lifted a finger to help out.  He stole from my parents, he stole from me, he sold their things right out from under them.  I had to take care of my parents, run all their errands, hire someone to move in and cook and clean and care for them as they got sicker.  Alex never helped.  All I asked him to do was the food shopping with the money I brought over each week.  He kept the money and the aide had nothing to give them for food.  So I stopped that and used Peapod to deliver the groceries so at least my parents could eat.

I'm rambling.  Sorry.

I set him up with enough money to go out to California to live.  He had an apartment, a truck he bought with the money I gave him and he should have been OK.  But that never happens with him.  I had my own problems to deal with - divorce, job loss, foreclosure, more job loss.  He called a few times but once he found out I really didn't have any more money to send him, he stopped calling for a long time.

Then about 2 years ago I got a call from a guy in CA who said he was a friend of my brother and that Alex had been in a car accident and was in bad shape.  I thanked him for the information but I really had no intention of calling him or rushing out there.  

Today I cleaned out a very old backlog of voice mail on my home phone.  I don't pay much attention to my home phone - anyone who really wants to reach one of us will call our cell phones.  In there I discovered several old messages from my brother, the guy who called me to tell me about his accident and a woman who appears to be a social worker of some kind.

If they are looking for money from me, they can forget it.  I haven't got it and even if I did I sure as hell wouldn't spend it on Alex.

I returned the calls from the social worker and the other guy but just got voice mail.  I refuse to call Alex.

I know I am a horrible person for this but after watching him try to choke my parents to death when I was a kid, I really have no feeling for him.

Update on my brother

Well, I just got a call back from Bob, the guy who called me a couple of years ago to tell me about Alex being in a car accident back then.  The news is not good.  Evidently earlier this year someone broke into his apartment, stole money and drugs and beat him up and cracked his skull open.  Of course, it was someone he knew.

He was recovering from that when his pickup truck rolled over him - how, I do not know - and broke his back in 2 places, his neck and 15 ribs.  Probably some other stuff too.  The end result is that he will never walk again, his brain is pretty messed up, he has no friends other than this guy Bob who started out as his caretaker when he needed assistance getting to doctor appointments about 4 years ago.  Bob makes a 2 and a half hour drive and spends the night so he can see Alex, who is in an adult care facility in Stockton, CA. 

Am I sorry this happened to him?  Well, it's a lousy thing to happen to anyone.  Am I going to call him?  No.  I have nothing to say to him and there would be no point.

I don't know how to feel.  Except sad.

Update on my brother

Well, I just got a call back from Bob, the guy who called me a couple of years ago to tell me about Alex being in a car accident back then.  The news is not good.  Evidently earlier this year someone broke into his apartment, stole money and drugs and beat him up and cracked his skull open.  Of course, it was someone he knew.

He was recovering from that when his pickup truck rolled over him - how, I do not know - and broke his back in 2 places, his neck and 15 ribs.  Probably some other stuff too.  The end result is that he will never walk again, his brain is pretty messed up, he has no friends other than this guy Bob who started out as his caretaker when he needed assistance getting to doctor appointments about 4 years ago.  Bob makes a 2 and a half hour drive and spends the night so he can see Alex, who is in an adult care facility in Stockton, CA. 

Am I sorry this happened to him?  Well, it's a lousy thing to happen to anyone.  Am I going to call him?  No.  I have nothing to say to him and there would be no point.

I don't know how to feel.  Except sad.