My brother’s keeper

Today was another wet morning outdoors. I met my friend before the 5k at about 9:15, and by the time we arrived to check in and get our bibs at 10:15 it was raining. It didn’t stop until about 4:00 this afternoon! Oh well. So my third 5k is down, I wasn’t as fast as my last 5k which was in May 2013, but faster than my first. And considering I took 5 months off while I was pregnant (running made me feel sick to my stomach while I was pregnant) I am proud that I actually finished the race and didn’t have to walk, or stop, etc. I averaged a ten minute mile. So I am going to keep running and hopefully next time I will do even better.

After the race we went out for lunch at an italian restaurant, and of course treated ourselves since we got in a run. Chicken, broccoli and ziti, one of my favorites! And of course a small salad to start (so I could pretend to be healthy). 

After that I came home and was basically a bum all day! A nap with my dog, caught up on episodes of The Daily Show and The Colbert Report, dusted and vacuumed our office, and that’s about it.

Since I lost the baby one thing I’ve noticed is that I am always worried about something happening to other people that I love. Like my husband, mother, brother, father. I am constantly worried that they are going to get into an accident, or have a heart attack, or something equally as awful. When I brought this up at the support group one night the other ladies said they experienced the same kind of fears. And I think it is natural. 

But one fear I have is specifically with my brother. My brother and I are almost polar opposites – sometimes I can’t believe our DNA is basically the same or that we were raised under the same roof. Some of this is not his fault – a lot of things always came easy to me growing up (namely, school) and he always had a rough time. He was tested several times for ADHD and was borderline, or so we were told. In eighth grade he was reading at a fifth grade level, he barely graduated from high school and had to have a tutor, and he basically hated school and felt he was no good at it so didn’t try. It was  vicious cycle – he did bad, felt bad about himself, then didn’t try. And I was of course the opposite – AP classes, honor roll, honor society, etc. He called me and my friends the “Nerd Posse”

Anyway, he’s 29 now and still living with my mother and her boyfriend. When they get along. He is constantly “between jobs”. He was working for The Husband up until about two weeks ago and was “let go” because he doesn’t show up. Doesn’t call, doesn’t text, just won’t come in. The reason is because he has a drinking problem, and I suspect a drug problem, and is too hungover to show up or just doesn’t care. And The Husband has a business to run and needs workers he can depend upon to show up! So he was “let go” for about the fourth time (because The Husband always takes him back once he apologizes.) I am worried he is going to do something to himself or to someone else. What if he gets behind the wheel and gets in an accident? What if he not only hurts himself but hurts others, or kills someone? What if he mixes the booze and drugs and ODs? What if he tries heroin? There is a huge epidemic in our area. I wish I could “fix him” but I know that I can’t. I know he has to want to help himself. I just don’t understand why he doesn’t want to! I feel like he could do something good if he tried. He could work hard and live on his own and have a girlfriend or a family. He could pull himself together, and it’s not like he wouldn’t have help! My mother would help any way she could. I would help. The Husband would help.

I just want him to do better. I want him to be happy. I know everyone’s definition of happy, or what makes them happy, is different. And maybe my life makes me happy but wouldn’t make him happy. But I can’t believe that he is happy drinking every night, sleeping all day, no job, no money. I am so afraid that something terrible is going to happen to him. That would be devastating for us but especially my mother. I know he thinks we don’t love him, or that he isn’t good enough, or whatever it is that he thinks. I would help him if I knew how. I just don’t have the answer to this. Just like I don’t have the answer to what happened to my baby, or how to achieve world peace, or cure cancer. I hate feeling powerless.

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2 Responses to My brother’s keeper

  1. Pingback: The Longest Day | Sweeping Up the Broken Pieces

  2. Pingback: If things were different, they’d be different | Sweeping Up the Broken Pieces

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