A few things on my mind today...
I had a conversation with my mother today (and I try to keep those as short as possible, considering that she and I don't get along all that well - she's family and I love her despite everything but she has a good way of making me feel like shit) about various things - and for some reason, it always comes back to my brother. No matter what I talk about, everything comes back to my brother, his life, how he feels, what he's doing, what my sister-in-law's doing, etc. etc. etc.
Now, before I get accused of being called an ungrateful bitch (which I'm almost certain some would say), I have to explain this about my brother, okay - he's 42 years old, he's married to a woman that is more or less a quadraplegic - can't walk, in a wheelchair, she has a brain tumor and has problems, I understand that. He does not work. His job is taking care of her and making sure that she's comfortable. Again, I understand that. It's a lot of work and a lot to take on.
But, here's the thing. I always hear about how rough my brother has it, about how they have no money, about how little sleep he gets, etc. I feel horrible for saying this, but - so the fuck what?
First of all, they live in the fucking Virgin Islands. I'm sorry, but they can't be that far in debt if they spend Christ-knows-how-much-money to custom-build a house in the Virgin Islands - they lived in Northern Virginia before they moved. Now, for those who are in the know - Northern Virginia is not a cheap place to live. It's a part of metro Washington D.C. Go look up housing prices in those areas - that'll tell volumes that I can't here. If they spent all of their money building a house in the Virgin Islands - whose fault is that? And they have to fly to Puerto Rico every two weeks for her medical treatments. How intelligent was this decision?
They originally claimed that they moved to the V.I. because it was warm. I'm sorry, I no longer buy that, because now they're moving to Michigan - and Michigan is not warm, no amount of words is going to make it so, heh.
Even if they no longer have a dime to their name - who had the bright idea to move to the islands in the first place? At the very least, one could say that someone didn't do their research too well. The Caribbean is expensive.
In the meantime, I'm struggling just to keep body and soul together. I'm trying to go back to school, I've taken crap jobs in the last year and a half and have had a fucking mental breakdown because of one of them - because I'm riding a bicycle and trying to catch a train and working overnights, etc. I landed in fucking Sheppard Pratt because I couldn't take any more pressure - and guess who's still paying the bills from that little episode? Do you have to look further?
Yes, right now I am unemployed and I'm more or less getting 'help' from my family. But first of all - I don't ask for it. I don't ask anyone for shit. I've gone so far as to sell things that were dear to me because I don't want anyone's help or assistance. Things don't matter to me, anyway, I've lost nearly everything I've ever cared about, so what's the difference? Second of all - why, why, why, why is it always about my brother? Why is his life that much more important? Every conversation I have with my family, it's about my brother. What his life's like, how hard he has it, etc. Well, goddamnit - don't I fucking count?
Is my brother here to help me as my mother gets older? Does anyone yell at him when he fucks up? If my mother has a fucking heart attack or falls down the stairs, will his ass be here to help? I didn't think so.
It's been this way ever since I can remember. I was constantly beaten up by his stupid girlfriend when I was a child because she just had to move in with us. "I was afraid for your brother", that's the reason I was given. That's the same reason that I was given when we had to move away from the neighborhood I spent my first years in, when I had to give up my education at a good (if brainwashing) parochial school, when I had to give up my friends, when I had to give up even my own space - his fucking whore had to share my bedroom while he had his own, after all, he's the "only boy" in the family, right?
When is it ever going to change? When is it not about him?
Heh, no worries, I swear to Christ I'm not having another attack. It just made me so angry when I talked to her today. For once I stood up for myself and said that I didn't want to hear it. She went on and on about my trip to Sydney as well, and I was angry - but calm. Basically I told her, "I don't want to hear it. I'm sorry that you disapprove of my trip, but I'm going and you're not going to stop me." I was shocked at how calm I sounded. But in truth? Heh. She just needs to, in Internet parlance, "STFU". I'm sick of hearing it.
I'm revamping the blog again today, but this should be the last time. If you want a link, just ask. I'll be more than happy to put it on. I've also decided that I'll do Mondays and Fridays for the music questions, as that's one of the few "memes" that I kind of like doing. Sorry for the multiple posts for a while, but I did delete a lot of shit - I think it was overdue, though. I had a lot of so-called "friends" on my profiles that I no longer associate with, so a fresh start is always good.
Cheerio.
No comments:
Post a Comment