Thank you, it was so personal/cathartic for me that I couldn’t really figure out what outlet might be the right fit. I’m all ears if you have any suggestions as to who might be interested.
Thanks very much for sharing this, it's very powerful. You might think of expanding it into a memoir or a shorter piece to publish in the mainstream press. We don't talk enough about the pain of sibling bullying. It's always focused on schools. But you can change schools; and eventually you graduate. It's hard to escape your family members.
That was enormously moving and it’s hard to say I loved a story so much when it is so filled with pain, but love it I did. I too live in STL so all of the places you talk about I’m very familiar with.
I hope the rest of your mother’s journey is filled with peace and love.
Oh, fuck! I can't believe that we went through most of this at a Cardinals game between the 5th and 9th innings. It hits harder in print. Maybe it was watching the kids have fun that took the edge off.
As you know, if you swap "brother" for "mom" and change the family dynamic just a little bit. We could trade places. My mom put all four of the letters in "suck" and, with her passing, left me a lifetime's worth of guilt over not being able to solve unsolvable problems that I will take with me to my grave.
Straight up, we are all the sum of our experiences. All of this gave you the stones and perseverance to be who you are. You don't matriculate into the dragon-slaying business from places of comfort. You are able to recognize bullshit for what it is because you've had to sort through so much of it from the wrong side of the screen door. Anyone can be a winner with a good hand. You've taken a bad hand and smoked everyone else at the table. Good on ya!
Unbelievably, between the second and third paragraphs of my response here. I just got word that the foster kids' case is, after their entire lives, over. The judge terminated the birth parent's rights. The girls are now a part of our family. Idaho is fast-tracking the adoption.
You take care, mi amigo. Yankee Stadium the next time.
Everything goes down smoother at Baseball Heaven! Congrats that your beautiful family is now entirely intact. At least a couple of nasty dragons have been slain, at least.
My goodness. This is very powerful, and yes, name ALL the names after your mother is no longer dependent on the unscrupulous care home.
Your essay was so powerful in illustrating both the remarkable ability of young people to change course with the right peers and incentives (you), as well as the undertow that catches and holds some young men and refuses to let go (your brother.) Thanks for writing this. It's giving me a lot to think about, especially as I have a troubled nephew now whose mental and physical health we're all worried about.
Thank you. The nursing home’s problem is that their business model is based on the real customer (people in my position) feeling soothed by the classy facade when they visit for half an hour once a week or month, so the facility can typically get away with all sorts of sloppiness without anyone being the wiser. With me, they’re stuck with a muckraking journalist scrutinizing them all day every day, I am pretty their worst nightmare.
Good luck with your nephew, I hope he can get his life together.
I had a similar family situation. Most of the details were different, but the pain and frustration were the same. People who haven't cared for a mentally ill relative often have no idea at all of what it is like, and then they have the nerve to judge you for not magically fixing everything wrong in the life of a mentally ill human being. Amazingly, some of the cruelest things I'd heard when my relative had crises came from first responders and medical professionals and were directed at me for not doing more, when I already had given almost everything, including good chunks of my own mental health. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for sharing this. Lots of families have similar stories hidden away. Your brother reminds me of my mother, with many differences, and I'm a little surprised that you don't see your parents as enablers more strongly than you do. It's probably to your benefit.
When all people do is hurt everyone who gets close to them it's best to cut them off. I hope you don't get suckered into going another round with your brother in a few years out of some misplaced sense of obligation. Enjoy the life you've made for yourself.
I think I probably saw them more as enablers at the time, but now with time and distance have more compassion for the predicament they were in. They had one child in obvious distress and one who seemed to be doing OK, so he got more of the attention. I wanted them to send him to military school for the discipline and structure, but they feared some country bumpkin hardass would beat him to death. My ex-brother is still texting me, even after I published this and he read it, the man is a kind of bed bug himself.
Yes, my mother was dying every year of her life, sometimes with reason and sometimes manufactured, and it's remarkable how families will structure themselves to give all the attention to one child at the expense of the others. It took her sisters decades to adjust, and some never did.
Sorry that you're constantly being texted by someone you don't want to be in contact with. That ignites a whole other awful family story then I'll leave alone. I will say it has always giving me sympathy for the perspective of women who are harassed and stalked.
This is raw and honest, but free of "woe is I" victim-whoring. It makes me think that on any given day, we must encounter so many who bear invisible scars like yours, and worse. I know my wife and I have ours. That informed how we approached parenthood. We tried to give our kids something like the childhood we would have chosen for ourselves.
Finally, without saying it, you make clear the fatal flaw in thinking "blood's thicker than water." It's often used to excuse and force submission to the unacceptable. While I'll fiercely back my family, it's not a blank check. There are limits. Family is not a death pact. And if family connections are to fulfill their potential, all parties must do their part to assure everyone is supported and thriving.
Throughout my career I've tended to default to seeing colleagues as my brothers and sisters in the trenches, and on a number of occasions I've been spectacularly betrayed. Unfortunately, reciprocity must be earned even if the parties share common DNA.
As my older sons entered adulthood, and our relationship changed, I told them explicitly: “Just because you’re my son, I don’t have an unlimited claim to be a part of your life. I have to earn, and re-earn that privilege. Conversely, you don’t have unfettered claim on my life and resources. You have to earn and re-earn it too.”
I think the fact that we enjoy such happy, healthy relationships with our adult children and their partners is because of this mutual expectation of respect.
I’m in a long-term relationship with an older woman who did not want kids. I had one lovely colleague at Columbia with whom there was definitely something there, though neither of us were single or willing to act dishonorably, who was probably my best shot at white picket fences. We’ll see how I feel when my mother has passed.
This AM, long before I read your essay, I drove on a personal errand to the edge of our downtown. And back. And at each stoplight along the route there were souls slumped on city bus benches that caused me to ponder how in this time and place anyone could so perfectly picture The Fall. I now know one way. And the perspective? A clear and vivid renewed understanding of the priceless value of my having an intact generational nuclear family in this Fallen World. And that it is His Gift to me. Thank you for providing my day with perspective. As someone else hoped, may the rest of your journey with your Mother in this life be filled with His Grace and Peace.
This is depressingly familiar. In my circumstances, the older sibling was my sister. I threw her off the top bunk in my childhood bedroom when my physical development had caught up with hers, and she didn't fuck with me as much after that. Fortunately she left the house when I was 13 and never came back. I was recently invited to help buy her a place to live rent-free, an invitation I declined only after working through a surprising amount of guilt over the decision. She's never once had anything to say to me unless it involved doing something for her, and yet after all these years, I still can't shake the guilt of leaving her to deal with the consequences of her own decisions. Go find another Charlie Brown to kick your football, Lucy.
Is brave if you to share.
Wow. Nobody has any idea what anyone else is going through... This deserves a broader audience. Would be a terrific magazine feature.
Thank you, it was so personal/cathartic for me that I couldn’t really figure out what outlet might be the right fit. I’m all ears if you have any suggestions as to who might be interested.
Thanks very much for sharing this, it's very powerful. You might think of expanding it into a memoir or a shorter piece to publish in the mainstream press. We don't talk enough about the pain of sibling bullying. It's always focused on schools. But you can change schools; and eventually you graduate. It's hard to escape your family members.
Thanks for reading and for your kind words.
That was enormously moving and it’s hard to say I loved a story so much when it is so filled with pain, but love it I did. I too live in STL so all of the places you talk about I’m very familiar with.
I hope the rest of your mother’s journey is filled with peace and love.
Thank you, I’m here taking care of her and giving her all the peace and love that I can.
You’re a good son ❤️
Oh, fuck! I can't believe that we went through most of this at a Cardinals game between the 5th and 9th innings. It hits harder in print. Maybe it was watching the kids have fun that took the edge off.
As you know, if you swap "brother" for "mom" and change the family dynamic just a little bit. We could trade places. My mom put all four of the letters in "suck" and, with her passing, left me a lifetime's worth of guilt over not being able to solve unsolvable problems that I will take with me to my grave.
Straight up, we are all the sum of our experiences. All of this gave you the stones and perseverance to be who you are. You don't matriculate into the dragon-slaying business from places of comfort. You are able to recognize bullshit for what it is because you've had to sort through so much of it from the wrong side of the screen door. Anyone can be a winner with a good hand. You've taken a bad hand and smoked everyone else at the table. Good on ya!
Unbelievably, between the second and third paragraphs of my response here. I just got word that the foster kids' case is, after their entire lives, over. The judge terminated the birth parent's rights. The girls are now a part of our family. Idaho is fast-tracking the adoption.
You take care, mi amigo. Yankee Stadium the next time.
Everything goes down smoother at Baseball Heaven! Congrats that your beautiful family is now entirely intact. At least a couple of nasty dragons have been slain, at least.
You have a talent for writing personal essays. I like this genre of writing for you.
Thank you, I think of my Substack as an anthology series, so I will return to the genre again when the time comes.
I am so sorry that this has been your life. I hope the rest of it is peaceful and joyful.
Thank you, me too and for you as well!
My goodness. This is very powerful, and yes, name ALL the names after your mother is no longer dependent on the unscrupulous care home.
Your essay was so powerful in illustrating both the remarkable ability of young people to change course with the right peers and incentives (you), as well as the undertow that catches and holds some young men and refuses to let go (your brother.) Thanks for writing this. It's giving me a lot to think about, especially as I have a troubled nephew now whose mental and physical health we're all worried about.
Thank you. The nursing home’s problem is that their business model is based on the real customer (people in my position) feeling soothed by the classy facade when they visit for half an hour once a week or month, so the facility can typically get away with all sorts of sloppiness without anyone being the wiser. With me, they’re stuck with a muckraking journalist scrutinizing them all day every day, I am pretty their worst nightmare.
Good luck with your nephew, I hope he can get his life together.
I had a similar family situation. Most of the details were different, but the pain and frustration were the same. People who haven't cared for a mentally ill relative often have no idea at all of what it is like, and then they have the nerve to judge you for not magically fixing everything wrong in the life of a mentally ill human being. Amazingly, some of the cruelest things I'd heard when my relative had crises came from first responders and medical professionals and were directed at me for not doing more, when I already had given almost everything, including good chunks of my own mental health. Thanks for sharing.
I am sorry to hear that those people were so disrespectful to you. Professionals who are exposed to all walks of life should know better.
Thanks for sharing this. Lots of families have similar stories hidden away. Your brother reminds me of my mother, with many differences, and I'm a little surprised that you don't see your parents as enablers more strongly than you do. It's probably to your benefit.
When all people do is hurt everyone who gets close to them it's best to cut them off. I hope you don't get suckered into going another round with your brother in a few years out of some misplaced sense of obligation. Enjoy the life you've made for yourself.
I think I probably saw them more as enablers at the time, but now with time and distance have more compassion for the predicament they were in. They had one child in obvious distress and one who seemed to be doing OK, so he got more of the attention. I wanted them to send him to military school for the discipline and structure, but they feared some country bumpkin hardass would beat him to death. My ex-brother is still texting me, even after I published this and he read it, the man is a kind of bed bug himself.
Yes, my mother was dying every year of her life, sometimes with reason and sometimes manufactured, and it's remarkable how families will structure themselves to give all the attention to one child at the expense of the others. It took her sisters decades to adjust, and some never did.
Sorry that you're constantly being texted by someone you don't want to be in contact with. That ignites a whole other awful family story then I'll leave alone. I will say it has always giving me sympathy for the perspective of women who are harassed and stalked.
If he's still able to text you, he's not an ex-anything. Also, if you still feel the need to insult him.
You need to block him. And not say another word. Maybe even delete this post about him.
That is the very basics of GOSO: Get Out, Stay Out.
I'll consider blocking him, but I don't believe in deleting posts. It's all part of the story.
This is raw and honest, but free of "woe is I" victim-whoring. It makes me think that on any given day, we must encounter so many who bear invisible scars like yours, and worse. I know my wife and I have ours. That informed how we approached parenthood. We tried to give our kids something like the childhood we would have chosen for ourselves.
Finally, without saying it, you make clear the fatal flaw in thinking "blood's thicker than water." It's often used to excuse and force submission to the unacceptable. While I'll fiercely back my family, it's not a blank check. There are limits. Family is not a death pact. And if family connections are to fulfill their potential, all parties must do their part to assure everyone is supported and thriving.
Thank you for sharing this.
Godspeed to you.
Throughout my career I've tended to default to seeing colleagues as my brothers and sisters in the trenches, and on a number of occasions I've been spectacularly betrayed. Unfortunately, reciprocity must be earned even if the parties share common DNA.
As my older sons entered adulthood, and our relationship changed, I told them explicitly: “Just because you’re my son, I don’t have an unlimited claim to be a part of your life. I have to earn, and re-earn that privilege. Conversely, you don’t have unfettered claim on my life and resources. You have to earn and re-earn it too.”
I think the fact that we enjoy such happy, healthy relationships with our adult children and their partners is because of this mutual expectation of respect.
I hope your brother's bullying has not made you afraid of love, marriage and a family of your own.
I’m in a long-term relationship with an older woman who did not want kids. I had one lovely colleague at Columbia with whom there was definitely something there, though neither of us were single or willing to act dishonorably, who was probably my best shot at white picket fences. We’ll see how I feel when my mother has passed.
Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry. About all of it.
Thank you, at least it “built character.”
I’m really moved by your story. I follow your work and read so much you write and I am sad that it has been so hard for you.
My writing is, among many other things, a form of therapy.
Know that you are heard.
This AM, long before I read your essay, I drove on a personal errand to the edge of our downtown. And back. And at each stoplight along the route there were souls slumped on city bus benches that caused me to ponder how in this time and place anyone could so perfectly picture The Fall. I now know one way. And the perspective? A clear and vivid renewed understanding of the priceless value of my having an intact generational nuclear family in this Fallen World. And that it is His Gift to me. Thank you for providing my day with perspective. As someone else hoped, may the rest of your journey with your Mother in this life be filled with His Grace and Peace.
Thank you and blessings to you and yours.
Thank you for sharing this tragic history. So many good lessons for anyone reading this. I'm certain that you will help your readers in many ways.
Thank you, I hope so.
This is depressingly familiar. In my circumstances, the older sibling was my sister. I threw her off the top bunk in my childhood bedroom when my physical development had caught up with hers, and she didn't fuck with me as much after that. Fortunately she left the house when I was 13 and never came back. I was recently invited to help buy her a place to live rent-free, an invitation I declined only after working through a surprising amount of guilt over the decision. She's never once had anything to say to me unless it involved doing something for her, and yet after all these years, I still can't shake the guilt of leaving her to deal with the consequences of her own decisions. Go find another Charlie Brown to kick your football, Lucy.
I was manipulated and fleeced for years out of a misplaced sense of guilt and noblesse oblige. I’m glad that you didn’t throw good money after bad.