I really hate being afraid to move around in my own house. I hate the fact that I’m scared to leave my room, especially at night. I hate that I have an alcoholic for a brother and have no idea how to handle it.
Every day, I worry that I’ll pass him and say something to him that will set him off into drinking more. I worry that I’ll do something that will cause a reaction out of him that I’ll regret later.
I used to be afraid he’d drink and drive… until he totaled TWO different cars two different times/days. The feeling of being worried he’s going to crash is gone. I’m numb to that now. Finally he got caught 6 months ago and now has a breathalyzer in the car so he can’t drink and drive. That day he said he’d quit.
A couple of weeks ago, he made a final (final to me because I was done after that) deal with me that tonight would be his last night drinking for four weeks. That deal lasted 3 days…
I hate fighting with my parents about him. It sucks getting to the point of screaming and crying while fighting with my mom about him… that I, of all people, should ‘be more supportive’ of him. Why should I keep hoping that this time he says ‘it’ll be my last’ will actually be the truth when I can’t even count how many times. Why should I believe him this time over the last? How can I be the one in the family who is to blame? HE’S the one who’s supposed to be my older brother. I’m supposed to be able to look up to him and go to him when I need help.
Instead, I lay here, hoping my blanket will provide enough cover that I won’t be targeted this time. He yells at mom and dad, while they try to sleep, demanding one dollar, because that’s all he needs. “This is my last day! Never again!” he claims, shouting more when they claim they don’t have it. He doesn’t believe them, neither do I. I know she has money. Dad even has change. But he continues to yell saying things like “Seriously, are you serious right now!” giving them attitude as if it’s their fault they don’t have money.to give him.
The yelling gets elevated, now mom and dad are yelling back, still trying to stay strong in not giving him money. I know there are only two outcomes of this scenario that’s unfolding on the other side of this wall.
- They will give in and give him the money he needs.
- He’ll come to me next to get the money and a new fight will begin.
Deep down, I’m hoping they give him the money. I’ve seen this too many times to count. If they say no, he’ll get angry and go downstairs, slamming anything he can. When there is no reaction from that, he’ll come up and say “You’re seriously going to do this right now…” It’s almost word for word when this happens. The fighting will happen more and they’ll give in. If they don’t have money, they come to me for it. If they don’t feel like fighting they’ll give it to him and he’ll go away.
Last time, he came to my room last week and woke me up, asking for money. Problem was, he first attempted to get money from my purse without asking (stealing). After i woke up to the fiddling of the purse, he came to my bed and shined the flashlight in my face asking for money. I told him no repeatedly. He continued to pester for 15 minutes… yes 15 minutes. He, like times before, said this is my last time, i promise… stuff like that. I stayed strong, saying no, but getting ready to yell for my parents. Finally he turned and began to leave, but not without calling me a bitch and ass hole and saying he was better at things and that I was disappointment to my mother along with being the cause of her unhappiness/crying earlier that day. There was more swearing but not necessary to type in here.
Why can’t I have a normal brother? Why does everything that can go wrong happen? I don’t want to have to hide in my room, hoping my blanket will be enough of distraction that he won’t think of me. I just want to be able to go downstairs and get something out of the fridge without worrying he will be there, drunk and try to insult me like always. Or that my temper may get the best of me and I’ll stop biting my tongue and he’ll get upset and his anger management issues will flare up. Broken glass, holes in walls, dents in stainless steel or cracked bones: I’d rather avoid all of these if I can help it.
Wish I could run away from all of this… I still hate being afraid… but it’s the only option at this point.