The Asinine Asylum
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Monday, January 5, 2015
Friday, June 22, 2012
Tough love, the cure for what ails the dependent youth.
Yesterday I went to see my little brother’s new apartment.
Well, “little” is really pushing the laws of adjectives since he’s actually 29
but he hasn’t seemed to take life as seriously as the rest of us old fogies.
Curiously, I know of 2 other people around his same age that seem to subscribe
to a more extremely dependent way of life which is to expect the rest of the
hard working world to provide them with the help and comfort they “deserve”. So
what if they are just reaping the benefits of other people’s struggles? That is not their problem!
The little brother was always grateful for the help but he
was also used to not having to be accountable to anybody but himself. I guess
it was hard to live by the iron hand of his big sister who rented him the floor
above while he and his baby momma got on their feet. The drama and stress this
caused, he is also of strong character which means he is as volatile as I am,
was sometimes a little more than I could handle. Things came to a head earlier
this year with some pretty fucked up, depressing and scary shit happening so it
became apparent why there had to be a
parting of ways and he would have to leave sooner than he had planned.
Inwardly, I was racked with guilt because I was worried
about the many addictions and mental health issues we inherited from the
paternal side of my family. Would I get a call in the middle of the night
telling me I had to bail him out or worse, come visit him in a hospital? Where
would he wind up living? A hovel in the middle of gangland?
Outwardly, I put on a warrior mask and I held strong to the voices
around me who, unintentionally I hope,
were implying I may have delivered him to the wolves. I held strong by no
longer volunteering to give a helping hand even with something as simple as
moving his things. I felt I had done enough, you see.
Considering the fact that he was the child I helped raise
and would lug around like my baby monkey, it was probably one of the
hardest things I have ever had to do. Andy was witness to all my breakdowns.
This wasn’t the only family issue I was dealing with since it seems the whole fucking
world thinks I owe them my life. They
don’t realize how draining it is to always try to be the strong one. It turns
out, my body was sending out one warning sign after another and I had to finally
listen and begin to put myself before others.
When we were driving to his apartment, I noticed how the
neighborhood I once lived around had gentrified. It no longer seemed like you
had to worry too much about being jumped under the elevated train tracks. I
looked appreciatively at the old school construction of the buildings I had
never seemed to notice before because my eyes were always glued to the path in
front of me with frequent looks behind me to make sure there were no attackers
tracking my progress.
The houses surrounding his building had a charming array of flowers
and people hanging out on their stoops watching the world go by. I was
comforted when I saw his apartment. A clean, small studio with only the bare
necessities but perfect for a single man, making his way in life on his own.
Currently he is working full time, studying part time and supporting himself 100%
of the time. I couldn’t be prouder if he had told me he had won the Nobel peace
prize. Okay maybe, that’s a bit exaggerated but I still feel like my heart is
filled with all sorts of warm and fuzzies.
He has always been very stubborn, fearless and wanting to do
things his way, I can relate, and I
am happy that he is back on track to where he wants his life to head. I know he
will need us every once in a while but it’ll be easier for me to resume the “big
sister” role because I see how hard he is trying.
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