I'm writing another post just because I want to express the distaste I have towards my brother. Does anyone remember this post? (Oh my god in that post my brother was 24, he's turning 29 in two days, and I'm turning 24 in August- wtf...)
If you don't want to read it here's a summary:
My brother is the best damn thing in this entire fucking world. He is so goddamn precious that a puppy chasing a butterfly can't even compare to the charm he emits. He is a glorious ray of the sun, neigh, he IS the sun.
Yes, he is an ex drug addict.
Yes, he is an ex alcoholic.
Yes, he did threaten to kill my mom by pushing her down the stairs.
Yes, he did steal my mom's cheques and forge her signature, thus making it almost impossible to stay a float/feed 11 year-old me for a bit.
Yes, he did convince my mom to give the rehab centre he now works at, THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS OF MYYYYYY TRUST FUND to take me away from my home and do absolutely nothing to help me this past summer.
Yes, he is incredibly abusive emotionally and physically with his girlfriends but for some reason, to my entire family, MY boyfriend (ex I guess) is the one who's evil, and my big brother can do no wrong.
Yes, he's all that and more, but does that affect my parents at all in thinking he's the best fucking thing since sliced bread? Nooooo. The post linked above is a rant from FOUR years ago. It was when no one knew (or cared) that I was incredibly depressed and anxious. It was when I was cutting nearly everyday, and inching myself closer and closer to an actual suicide attempt. I feel like at that time, the sweet release of death is all I thought about.
So my brother has a physical fight with his then fiancé, they break up, he ends up living with my mom and I for a bit and all I hear from everyone is, "Oh poor N!" "Careful around N, he's not doing so well" "How unthoughtful of you Mint! N is suicidal right now!" blah blah blah. He wasn't suicidal, I knew that and he admitted he said it for attention later on but like, I was cooking him food like all the fucking time! Being as nice as I could yet still not doing enough apparently. Fuck he's lucky I didn't murder him myself...So, update to that post. My brother went to a glorious rehab paid with my mom's own money, and with my dad's "connections" ( 😒 ). He's now a year sober and everyone is SO PROUDDDD.
I was too until I found out he's more attention-seeking than ever. All he talks about is how he's so happy he's "found God" (he's a sciencey atheist, I know this for a fact). All he does is talk about how well he relates to his clients and how he's really got a knack for helping people (HE WORKS WITH PEOPLE WHO HAVE THE EXACT SAME FUCKING ADDICTION, if he didn't relate I'd be worried that he was faking doing drugs too).
He looks down upon me for my addictions (I'm not addicted to anything just to let you know), he looks down upon BB for his addictions (not addicted either, just likes coke when there's coke- who doesn't?) and he looks down on my abusive relationship (BITCH PLEASE).
He talks so fake all the goddamn time, like his voice is fake. ANDDD he tries to treat my mom and I like his patients. Can I add that he's never had any courses on anything and has no fucking right to be talking to us like we're a project let ALONE have the job he has. But no one at that rehab centre has any training either, it's just a fucking house of addicts teaching addicts for big money.
He thinks he's so high and mighty, but we can't even put vanilla in his food. DOES HE NOT KNOW THAT THE ALCOHOL COOKS OFF AND ALSO THAT VANILLA ISN'T GOING TO MAKE THE FOOD TASTE LIKE BOOZE OR HAVE EVEN A REMOTE BOOZE TASTE. MORMONS COOK WITH VANILLA N, MORMONS.
Anyway, he thinks he's wonderful and my parents agree with him. Did I mention that my dad disowned me because I had moved back to AB? YUP! I think his exact words were:
You can talk to me when you decide to make better decisions.**Remember when my dad triggered the first time I ever self-harmed??**
My brother's newest venture has been (get this) writing. Yes that's right folks! The all amazing N has made a beautiful blog to write beautiful posts that everyone just knows will turn into some extra pocket cash for him.
excuse me?
He's writing about his time at the centre (obviously) and his experiences with his "patients". He's documenting what works, what doesn't, and any breakthroughs he has. OBVIOUSLY the blog features a bit about himself and his own struggles. A sort of, "journal" he calls it.
I'M SORRY DID YOU JUST TRY TO TAKE CREDIT FOR MAKING UP THE BLOG-STYLE OF WRITING?
IS THAT WHAT JUST HAPPENED HERE?
REALLY?
Everyone LOVESSSSS N's blog. My mom reads it, my dad reads it, the step mom reads it, my fucking GRANNIE reads it. Wanna know why? Because N is God's gift to this earth. Hell, N might be the fucking second coming, he's that amazing.
They all read it and think it's good because,
A) they're all blinded by the book of God-- I mean the book of N.
and B) because they either suck at writing or don't read/write at all.I'm sorry but that's the truth. And it really pisses me off when he stomps all over my turf with his smelly feet. I know, I know, I shouldn't be cynic; other people are allowed to write. But I mean seriouslyyyyyy.
Everyone knows I have a fucking blog now. It's no secret. No one knows the actual ADDRESS, but they know I have it. So why has no one suggested I get serious with my own blog? To try to make something of it? My mom told my brother he would probably be able to make money off his blog and that she'd look into ways to help him before he even STARTED IT. So it's definitely not about the writing... N get so much attention because he's a mother fucking starboy.
BUT HE'S NOTTTTTTT. HE'S A LIAR AND HE'S FAKE AND HE'S MEAN. HE LOOKS LIKE MY DAD NOW AND ACTS LIKE MY DAD NOW TOO. EXCEPT HE'S WORSE, BECAUSE HE'S TURNED EVERYONE INTO A SPOTLIGHT, POINTING THEM TOWARDS HIS UGLY FACE SO HE CAN SHOW OFF AN AWARD-WINNING DANCE ROUTINE THAT HE JUST MADE UP: THE NACARENA.
It's his birthday soon as I've mentioned and between my mother running around getting my grannie everything under the sun (she's like my brother that way: needy and attention-seeking) and running around getting everything ready for N's grand arrival (he lives literally an hour and a half away), little Mint has taken her usual spot in the corner.
For like two weeks I feel, I've been asking if my mom would go with me to the walk-in clinic so I could get a refill of my prescription. I couldn't go on my own because my car was then in the shop (before I crashed it), and also because I have this really fun thing called CRIPPLING ANXIETY.
But every time I've asked something has to come first. Whether it be work (she's retired), my grannie, or my brother, or something in between. We'd always do things more important before taking me to the clinic, resulting in it being too late to go or because after being out in public for so long I couldn't handle anymore interaction.
We were supposed to go today but she had work! And then she had to buy more groceries because my brother is coming! And then she had to take my Grannie out to look at stores! AGAIN!!
Today I finished the last of my prescription so let's just fucking hope that we can make it down to the goddamn clinic. MAYBE.
Also, my brother is insisting he stay the night before his birthday at my mom's house, thus kicking me out of my own bedroom...
fabulous.
P.s If you think this is just me throwing a pity party, look into "the roles of an addicted family"; my role is that of the lost child.
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