I think I've really begun to hate my brother, and I don't feel bad about it.
When I was nine, almost ten, my mother had him. She nearly died from heart failure and fluid in her lungs when he was born. He was stillborn and life flighted to another hospital because of a severe calcium deficiency and was revived. After that, my mother was deemed disabled and unable to work and do daily everyday things the way she used to.
Being almost ten, and the only other child, with my father disappearing, it was me who had to pick up the slack. Sure, she paid for everything, but I was in charge of cleaning and cooking, and if the baby cried, I had to soothe it. I had to bathe it. Change it. Feed it. Babysit. I had to sleep on the floor on a mattress just in case he cried during the night. When I was a little older, I had to drive an uninsured car with no permit or license just to do the grocery shopping.
But I do not blame my mother for this. I did, but I realize that she couldn't do it at the time. It had to be me. When she suddenly died when I was 18, my brother was 8. He found her and it screwed him up. We had to move far away with literally one suitcase for fear of our lives as a result of an extreme family feud between both sides of my family. Our dad briefly came back into the picture, along with his trashy girlfriend, and they lived under horrible conditions. And I do mean horrible. It took two years before social services would do something about it.
I got sole custody as legal guardian of my brother on Halloween of 2007. I have raised him completely on my own since then. Many people have thought I was his mother. What kind of person would that have made me if I had a child at 9 years old? Get real, people. I never blamed my brother for this either. It wasn't his fault we were in this situation, but I did what I could to make sure we had a good life, even though I went from a careless 18 year old to full time parent, full time employee, full time anything to start completely over with nothing in a completely new place literally overnight.
I however, have my own health issues and have been out of work for a while, and my severe clinical depression, bi-polar tendencies, and borderline personality disorder (coupled with Tourette's syndrome and the severe back spasms I get) have kept me from doing many things.
This past December, he turned 18. Our only income now comes in his name and will continue until he is finished with school. My duty as legal guardian has been fulfilled and relieved. I can now be "sister" rather than "parent" first and "sister" later.
I made sacrifice after sacrifice for this child. I didn't get to go to college. I didn't get to do what 18 year olds do. I never went out, made mistakes, or had any fun! I had to work to have a home and start completely over. We lost everything that was our mother's. Moving to a new place completely far away was hard. We have food, and our new place is furnished, and has been furnished. We've had several cars in and out of the last few years. We weren't in any debt.
I sacrificed a social life. I don't have many friends. I can't go out and have a drink or go dancing or whatever it is people do. Every penny had to make sure we could eat and have a roof over our head. Even to this day, if I get money to spend on myself, it almost always goes towards groceries. Like for Christmas, I was given money for ME. I bought groceries with it. I got nothing for Christmas.
In fact, my brother was gone all Christmas. He was staying with his friends and celebrated with their families. I was at home with the dog, who chewed up my Christmas tree. No presents. No gifts under the tree. No thank yous for everything. I was alone.
I didn't even get an "I'm sorry" for being gone. I used the rest of my money that I had left to buy my brother a replica of a necklace my mother never took off. She wore it when she died, and I wanted to wait to give it to him when he was 18 so he would have something of hers. I ended up giving it to him at 14, and something happened to it. I searched and searched for an exact replica for him and gave it to him for Christmas this year.
He hasn't worn it once.
And he got me nothing for Christmas. Of course, I expected nothing.
All I wanted from him anyway was a meal with him, Time with him.
He's been gone almost 4 days without contacting me at all. Being with his buddies and all. He comes home tonight, and says he's not staying. He's leaving in an hour to go out to eat with his friends. He's not seen those two friends in like a week. I ask him if I can go, and he says no, it's just him and his friends.
I ask him to bring me something back, and even give him money to pay for it, and he complains that he can't do it, so I tell him to forget it.
He'll be gone another few days since school is out until Tuesday, and then he probably won't even go then. I'm left here alone again with the dog and the cats and the housework and empty cabinets. I don't get a hello, or God forbid a thank you, or an I'm sorry. I have to beg for an "I love you" from him.
It's clear that he doesn't need me anymore. He's even said so. He only needs me to be his dog sitter. And I'm not really a dog person at all! He doesn't care about me at all.
And people fuss and argue and make me feel lower than dirt because my medical conditions make what I feel so much worse than it already is. People criticize me and degrade me because I can't help but battle myself to keep from my bad habit of cutting. I can't do anything to make myself feel better. My borderline personality disorder makes me feel no love whatsoever from somebody else. I always feel unwanted, unloved, unimportant. I get yelled at and called selfish because I often think of killing myself.
Isn't it just as selfish to expect me to live through this kind of pain just to spare YOUR feelings? Does what I feel even matter?
You all may think the world of me by the things I post here, but the truth is, there isn't a day that goes by that I wish I were gone. I can't really explain how I feel, but I found an article on BPD that may help explain part of it.
I try and try and try so hard every day to stay positive. To help everybody else. In reality, I've felt like this my whole life. No matter how hard I try, I feel like I'm worthless. I feel like this every single day...
And I'm sorry to be so down and negative, but I don't know how much I can take anymore. I don't have anybody to talk to. And I'm not fishing for pity or any of that. Far from it. My cries for help have been for nothing.
But that doesn't stop my pillows from being soaked in tears every night. It doesn't stop the pain in my chest, and the signs of a heart attack I've been having. I'm 27. I've lived a crappy life. I wish I could give the rest of my life to someone who wants it. Someone who deserves it. I'm only around to be used by somebody else. I just don't want to be here anymore. I've never felt appreciated for a single day in my entire life.
My heart is so broken, that I can barely even feel it anymore. And nobody seems to care.
I'm sorry to post this here. I have no one to talk to, and this had to come out. Don't let it bother you. It's not worth it. This too will pass, and I may feel better, but only for a while, before my heart gets ripped out again. I'm used it by now. I don't really want anyone to waste time reading this drivel, but I know someone will, and I'm sorry to bring you down.