A Little Sad

One o’clock. The caffeine from the Coke was toxic to me again. It was very difficult to breathe, and I felt like I would have a stroke or heart attack. I should be smarter than to do anything self destructive…

It occurs to me even more clearly that my brother was never on my side. If anything, he would have liked to murder me to puff himself up. He is not a terrible person; only terrible to me. I hope he doesn’t try to call me again. To hell with him. It must be because Mom was better to me than she ever was to him. His motivation then is sheer jealousy and resentment, as I picked up on starting at age 16 or so. I put my observations into my creative writing in high school and college. At 31 years old I was fully conscious of his hatred of me, but Mom never did realize how he despised her. Today, my brother’s hate consumes his body and his soul. He told me that he would never forgive Mom for neglecting him. It’s not hard to infer that he will never forgive me either for benefiting where he missed out… It’s a little sad to countenance it, since I grew up adoring him. Maybe one of these days Polly will call me with the news that Jeff is dead. Then, gone with him will be Tarzan, John Carter, Conan, and all my heroes from childhood.


2 thoughts on “A Little Sad

  1. Family dynamics are strange, particularly, I imagine, if you’re from a dysfunctional family like me, one without proper boundaries and structure.

    My older brother also became “the hero”, in place of my passive father. My older sister became a ghost.

    I like to say I was born in the “briar patch” because things were already screwed up by the time I came along, so it was all “normal” to me. But my brother saw things decay before his eyes in real time and held much more resentment for my parents, especially my father whose role he resented having to take on.

    And now, the “hero” has fallen from the rigidity of his own severe, self-imposed boundaries which could only be dysfunctional because of their compensatory, neurotic origins. His own marriages and families imploded, as well as a few girlfriend relationships afterwards.

    I won’t bore you anymore, but suffice it to say he fared worse than I did. I was also spoiled by my parents in a way he never really was – but that’s another story.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Very intelligent analysis of your family.

    They say that the family should exist for the individuals, not the other way around. Mine has an ugly secret to protect, namely alcoholism. For this reason, the individuals exist to ensure the secret never gets out.

    One in six households on any given suburban street is alcoholic. I grew up where the front curtains were always closed.


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