God bless my dad, the soft-heart he is. Sigh… To my great annoyance, my father came home around noon and I find my brother in the house. My dad was outside letting his dog out and my brother was in the house unsupervised. Sure, it was only for a minute or two and all that other shit, but I’m not lenient like my father.
Apparently my brother has the ability to come and go freely today because he has laundry to be washed. That annoyed me. My brother stole thousands of dollars worth of my mom’s belongings and he still gets to come here to get his laundry done. He should be ashamed to come near this house. I just kept wondering which room I should stay in while he’s here… my parents’ room or mine. I decided to take all the jewelry my mom has left (well, what I could find) and take it to my room.
Sigh, my dad went back to work soon after he came back. I asked why. He said he and my brother went to get some groceries. That made me even more frustrated. My dad got him groceries! Oi… My dad quickly goes back to forgiveness and trust. While I can understand the forgiveness thing due to Christianity… the trust is given far too soon. I mean, my dad is just enabling him. My mom loves to use to word enabling… heh. That is what my parents have always done in their forgiving. Forgiveness is fine, but from what my mom has learned, they forgive to the point that nothing is learned or changed.
Normally I’d forgive my brother, but his latest thing took the cake. I’m not forgiving him. I have conditions. For me to forgive him, he’d have to restore all of my mom’s possessions. For me to trust him… he’d have to go through a program again and actually stick with it this time… allow us to take surprise drug tests on him every once in a while even.
My brother might have gotten a tad of respect from me if he had refused my dad’s help. He didn’t refuse. No shame and no sense of responsibility. He should feel too guilty to accept such. That or at least have some pride in the matter. “I’ve done enough taking, I shouldn’t take more.” No… he still takes. I mean, medical help, sure… I can see helping him on that… other stuff… he has a job and he should get his own damn groceries.
Sigh… just thinking of him makes me tired. Sure, this entry seems quite fueled, but compared to previous times it isn’t. I just want that idiot out of this house.

Saturday my brother took my mom with him to get her things back. The trips to pawn shops were near fruitless. She only got a small portion of her possessions back. It is then my idiot brother tells her he had given the rest of her stuff to be pawned by some other guy since my brother didn’t want the shop owners to catch on about the items being stolen. So now he is trying to get in touch with the guy. Oi… And to think while my dad and I were getting groceries, Dad kept getting the usual things he’d get for my brother and even invited him to join us for dinner on Sunday. This is just so damn annoying…
Well, I collapsed around one this afternoon. I was emotionally and thus physically drained. My theory is that when it comes to drama from outside forces, I am spent up emotionally. When it is drama produced from within, however, I have that extra adrenaline from anger, mania, anxiety, and/or whatever. In any case, I was out of it until four thirty.
After waking, I did a few chores, ghosted about and eventually my mom decided to order takeout. When that arrived my mom and I settled into her bedroom and watched television. Come eight, she started talking some. It seems that on her second ride out with my brother to try to get her things back was even less fruitful. My mom cursed at him, called him something and got out of the car to get away from him. I more or less commended her for that.
This… all of this is just too much. Mom admitted to me that she doesn’t even want to go into work. It isn’t completely just sorrow – she’s not depressed from what she has concluded since she knows how she feels when she is so. Her reasons are also a thing of ethics. Professionally she wouldn’t be able to do her job as a counselor when the people she works with are the ones she dislikes most at the moment. Despite that, she can’t just quit without consequences and such – and I don’t think she really wants to quit, she just needs time to recuperate. The best scenario that can occur with the realities of life is that her work will let her transfer to something else. She would have to be trained, but it would be good for her and likely for patients. After all, who wants a counselor who really doesn’t want to see or listen to you at all?
She also talked about seeing the therapist I often saw when we moved here. Sure, she can talk to co-workers and the like… but she thinks that talking to the therapist would let her receive feedback that would give her food for thought. She really needs someone to listen… well, more “someones”.
My mom thinks the boy she once knew as her son is dead. Sure, physically he is still here, but the person we loved and the person who could feel love, remorse and whatnot is gone. In all truth, I agree with her. She says nothing is there… behind those eyes of his… nothing is there.
I just wish my parents could get away for a while for a little self-healing from all of this. A change of scenery, time to themselves and all that is something I think they both really need… Sadly, I am powerless as they are in this.
Well, around eight my mom decides to go to bed. I think all of us are. I just wanted to write this out… therapeutic or something…
Sigh… I’m tired again.

From around Monday to Tuesday I’ve been trying to think up ideas for what to get my dad for Christmas. He is the sort who is not materialistic and is more the sentimental type. Photo collages have already been thought of. His hobby has gone away since his arthritis interferes with his golfing as well as lack of friends to golf with here. He reads, but not often and I have no idea what sort of book he likes. Music has been done. Cooking a nice meal is out of the question… it goes on. In the end, I decide a watch. His previous one broke and now he’s wearing a cheap one from Wal-Mart.
Tuesday my mom was informed that an aunt of hers, one who had married into the family, died. Also on Tuesday Mom and I went to vote around five in the afternoon. We were the only voters in there. No line for us! It was either that day or the night before, my brother’s car was repossessed. He will be going a few hours away to get his stuff back from inside it. In any case, Tuesday was… eventful.
Wednesday in turn was uneventful.
Thursday started out as usual for me. My mom left for the funeral. It started around two likely. Around evening she called Dad and told him she was eating salad with her cousin – the one most of us call aunt. My great aunt seems to have made it through the funeral okay from what my mom says.
A bit before the call, my dad, brother and I went to the grocery store. My brother got a few things, my dad needed soap and I got some noodles. After that they stopped for hamburgers and we dropped my brother off at the apartment he is sharing with a friend/co-worker/someone.
My father and I returned home then, I cooked some noodles and we settled down to watch two shows. I rock when it comes to the shows my mom records. One of them was Criminal Minds, I figured out the unsub near the beginning. Heck yeah. I got all the twists! Well, after watching CSI: NY my dad turned off the television and we both went to bed.
Friday was pretty much the usual. Mom arrived back in town around five thirty and we met up to eat dinner. She had a good time with her cousin after the funeral was over. They caught up and spoke about everything and nothing.
I asked about my great aunt. Considering her condition, she is doing okay. Despite that, she isn’t the same person she used to be. She forgets things as well as repeats thoughts. Her voice is more raspy/hoarse/something. My mom told me she has a new heart monitor, but it is big and while some will send a shock to jolt the heart back into beating should it stop; this one makes her heart work all the time. Sigh…
Well, after that, we got home. We unloaded the car of Mom’s things and then settled in. Mom and I watched two shows together. One was the Criminal Minds I saw the night before. I was the master on that one. Ha! Yeah… she didn’t catch onto things or make correlations like I did. We either think the same things and figure the cases out in sync, she catches on before I do or I catch on before she does. Sometimes we never really get anywhere. After that, we then watched Life, which was mainly just watching.
Well, it is now almost nine. This is all I’m writing.

Later last night Mom broke down. She cried and even sobbed. She sat down on the kitchen floor and rested her back against the cabinets. I sat down with her and held her in silence. She asked me if I knew what it was like to feel as though one’s soul had died. I simply replied yes and thought of how this was very similar to the time when I thought of suicide that first night while still in middle school. It was later in the night and we had sat in front of a fridge in a different house… but it was the same. We had switched places though.
My brother of course never came back home last night. My dad kept calling him during my mom’s crying. Mom didn’t want him home at all. I figured my dad simply felt helpless and could only think to do that. He needed to feel like he was doing something.
Mom calmed down some, we numbly watched TV and she eventually went to bed. My dad tried to sleep, but ended up staying up all night. I was up most of the night but went to bed at two – one if the clock was set back by then.
I got up again at eight. I encountered Dad who had blood shot eyes and he had a wavering voice – about to cry if not already. I later saw my mom. She can’t stop crying.
In all simplicity, I merely think my brother should be castrated and kicked out of the house soon after. Even if he is innocent, I think it would make up for all his past offenses anyway.

—————
Many Hours Later:
Dad tells me Mom texted my brother. He finally admitted he stole her things and admitted that he’s on drugs again. He says once he gets paid this coming Thursday he’ll get her stuff back. Even if he does manage to get her things back, I think he should never come back after.

—————
Hours Later:
Sigh… Mom got into contact with my brother, as noted. My dad and I got his clothing, dental care, hair styling stuff and such together. My mom drove out to meet him and give him such things. She came back. My brother relapsed two years ago. Sigh…
Tonight he is struggling greatly with withdrawal, so my mom is now going to meet him at the hospital to get some treatment until he can meet up with his doctor about this.

I just don’t care about him. I know my parents do since he is their son and all that. I’m just numb really. Perhaps it is a defense mechanism or maybe it is the possible autism/whatever. It seems my brother is aware of his sickness and how it is affecting the family. He apparently believes he should stay out of the house and away from us in order not to do harm – steal. At least he is aware. Sigh.
In truth my “feelings” that were briefly shown through my previous notes of the recent happenings were written without the fuel of feelings. It was all rather detached. Usually I’d bee driven, angry, frustrated, et cetera. I’m just tired now.
All through this I was numb, tired, and other similar descriptive words. I just want him away from my parents. I could stop and take a good look at him and try to find the good, but I’m too tired and uncaring to. I’m too tired to even think much on what I want him to do. I just know I want this to stop. That is all. Just let it stop.

My second brother is a bloody asshole. My mom is upset. Based on the title, the math should be simple.

40 Minutes Later:
More than what was thought is missing. Dad called my brother. There was confrontation. Dad’s voice wavered. Mom’s cried some. Brother has left to “confront” fellow workers he has brought into our home. The three of us still believes it is him though. Sigh…

Our oldest cat, Tiger, got an abscess on his ear and we had him taken in while my mom made preparations on Thursday. We give him medicine now for it. He seems okay though.
In the middle of the night, after my mom went to bed fretting over her lost pills, I worked on trying to find them again. I took a break and Shred came online. His life is full of stress and he sort of reminds me of when I was back in school. He told me he envied me. The three things were freedom, lack of general responsibility and having no one thrusting expectations on me. I was surprised and feared he might have disliked me.
Admittedly I have a very simple life and many would likely consider it a dream minus the income. I try not to be ungrateful and truly consider myself very fortunate. Seeing those around me, I do feel more or less unworthy and guilty. After all, I wound up where I am due to becoming unhinged in what most people would consider low stress environments.
I understand why I am here. I understand that, yeah, with how my body, psych and emotions reacted to stimuli I pretty much went into break down mode when even in setting most wouldn’t consider stressful.
In turn, based on many years of break downs, depressions, cuttings and that happy attempt at suicide, some people that deal with Medicaid saw my file and apparently deemed me as a complete nutcase who’d never make it in the work field. Thus, considered as a dependent adult-child I’ve wound up being a stay at home housekeeper with a flexible schedule to my parents, gets meds and am able to pay rent, buy groceries and have a cat.
In my attempts to go to college or at least get a part time job and work my way up, I realized how pathetic I am in the work force. I couldn’t even have one college class for one semester without getting anxious, depressed and questioning why I was alive. Two classes the semester before that had been worse.
I tried looking for part-time jobs, but never really got anywhere there, so I tried volunteer work at a school library. After a month there were headaches and stress. Slowly questions of why I was here and the purpose of living began. My Trichotillomania acted up again. I started writing depressive thoughts in my journal again and eventually realized I was wishing to cut again.
In the end I finally went to my mom and noted how pathetic it was. I checked in books, checked out books and put books up and in order. It was a quiet environment, low stress and low interaction. Doing just about a month of that slowly/quickly (whichever way you see it) sent me back to the deep end.
Sigh…
I’m grateful with how my life has turned around. I’m grateful for all that I have. I don’t like seeing all the troubles my family and friends go through… but as far as they are concerned, what do I know about their problems? I suppose I know little to absolutely nothing.
It doesn’t change that I wish I could help and that I am sorry they can’t have better lives as well.
Meh. I’m getting down. I should go into all the other things I mean to write down.
Anyway…
My brother arrived home and was half covered by gasoline. I told him about mom’s missing pills and how she’s been anxious about the surgery anyway and how losing the pills intensified the matter. I added in the possibility of her not being able to get a refill and if that ended up being so she would have to cancel the surgery a second time. I asked him if he ever saw them and he replied no. He said he didn’t even know about them.
He told me about the gasoline. He was helping a friend take out unleaded gasoline from his Diesel. The gas leaked on him and he came back to take a shower and figure out what to do with his clothes. Well, he went to take his shower and I kept looking. I didn’t know whether to believe him ore not, but if he did steal them, he now knew we were aware and of Mom’s situation.
When he got out, I asked him if he would at least help me look. He said he could for only a short while. As he was getting things in order and decided to just throw his ruined clothes out, I kept searching. My dad either woke up on his own and heard me or I woke him from my rustling, he entered the kitchen and asked what I was doing. I told him about Mom’s day, how she went to get our med prescriptions, how she dropped them off and then when she found out her pain meds were missing.
Well, my brother appears and my dad starts questioning him. He flat out asked him if he stole the meds. That was the wrong approach. Meh. Things continued on, my dad woke up my mom and then all of us were up. There was talking, Dad’s accusations, searching and such. My brother seemed helpless and even started to cry from my dad’s constant badgering. Well, my brother eventually retreated to his room, my parents went to theirs and I went to mine after a futile search.
After a while I heard my brother leave in his car. I eventually went to bed and woke to see my parents off around seven. My mom’s foot doctor understood on the matter and she was able to get a refill. She went through with the surgery around seven thirty and the operation seemed to least only an hour and a half at most. I did my chores and stayed with her all of Friday to cater to her needs.
We still don’t know if my brother did indeed steal the pills or not, but as my mom says, “There’s nothing we can do, so don’t worry about it anymore.” I’m over my anger and frustration now. I’m just happy things relatively worked out.
Since my mom is stuck in bed now, all of us are picking up some of her chores. My brother walked her dog today and cleaned up the backyard for her. I cleaned out the litter boxes and did my usual chores after my dad and I got groceries. My brother and I worked on getting medicine down Tiger. Dad catered to getting her food. I catered to getting her drinks and cleaning up the trash she accumulated about her.
Pretty much, we three will be a bit busier for a while. Mom of course doesn’t like it, but I don’t mind. it amused me when she said she was sorry for having me wait on her. It was fine. While I did forget things like numbers when she told me things, I did relatively well… I did forget to retrieve her tea once… Well, as long as she can remind me I do fine!
In other news, this evening I got an email from one of the twins. To my sadness they are not doing well overall, but it was relieving to know they were still alive. Sigh… how I wish I could help them as well as my parents. As usual, money makes the world go ’round. If I won the lottery I’d give it to my parents to pay their bills and debts and them to pay for their financial difficulties as well. If any was left over, I’d give the rest to charity. Meh…
Sigh…
Well, that is all.

Well, while half of the time I see my siblings as selfish, tonight my second brother takes the cake again. After about four years of apparent lack of stealing and drug use… my mother and I have belief that he has struck again. This is why we determine “apparent”…
Well, my mom was looking for some pain meds she got today for an upcoming surgery she has on Friday. She couldn’t find them. She looked, I looked and we came up with nothing. We checked all of her usual areas and I checked all the logical areas. We over lapped each other and checked more than once. There were no meds.
My mom even dug through the trash to look for the bag it came in and the list of what she got. She found mine, but all trace of hers was gone. The meds, the bag and the list were gone.
By then the fear was determined. We cannot help but believe my brother stole them. My mom is already anxious over the surgery. She has been preoccupied and forgetful as of late due to it. Now she doesn’t have the bloody pain meds. My brother is adding onto her stress, causing problems and is being a selfish idiot.
In turn I’m pissed off at him for stirring up this trouble. My parents are aging, they have sacrificed a lot for us, they are in debt because all of my siblings have drained them of money through stealing or loan payments. My dad is in poor health as it is and even though he’s retired he still has to work.
Though they are my siblings, I curse them. My sister is a selfish bitch who treats my parents like shit. She only cares about herself and expects the world to revolve around her. I don’t care about her problems anymore because she shows no respect for my parents and she won’t even stop to realize they do love, worry and care about her. All she does is blame them for not supporting her, not caring and a bunch of other crap that are just lies.
My second brother quit his job when he was almost head pressman, leaves for our old hometown and then comes back again because he doesn’t like his job. He can’t pay rent, he’s freeloading off my parents and now he does this shit again. I want to knock him over the head.
If I see him tonight, I’m going to tell him to help me look for her pain killers. If he helps, I’m going to tell him how this is affecting mom as well as me. If he doesn’t produce them or doesn’t help me search, I’m going to tell him I sadly believe he stole them then and if he did I hope he gives them back. If he doesn’t, then he might as well leave because all he is doing is falling back into his old habits, killing my parents and making me hate him.
Sigh…
At least my e-brother is doing better though. He’s the only one I don’t dislike at the moment. He has a full time job and at least tries to pay rent. He’s also been thinking of trying to go back to college. My parents won’t be able to send him, but if he does continue with his ideas and plans, he’ll be hopefully getting onto a better track in life.
Oi.
Well, I’m tense; I’ve been rubbing my forehead and thinking about how disappointed I am in my second brother. I wish my beliefs were wrong, but it is his same MO. My mom has a gut feeling and we both cannot help but look at him. Perhaps it is wrong to point fingers without proof, but that is how my brother works. He leaves no proof.
Meh.
My left temple hurts now, I’m frowning and my chest seems a bit tight. Damn it.

I had another “escape” dream. Where I was, I cannot quite remember – it was likely a school again, but I wanted to get away. Shred was there. I went to the top of the building. He tried to get me to stop, but I kept running. The top of the building led to a glade or such. It was like spring or summer. Trees allowed sunlight to filter through them beautifully.
Shred managed to follow me. I took off. I saw people out in the grass, but paid no mind. I wasn’t going back even if it was Shred telling me to. I jumped and flew. He kept running after me.
Eventually I came to a somewhat void place and a bunch of people were there – people who were out to cause trouble. They didn’t look imposing to me, it was just a feeling. I cannot distinctly remember what went on other than me physically avoiding them and going no farther.
Shred eventually showed up, but he was far away, still on the ground while we were high above. He started climbing what looked to be a metal structure… it was yellow. Even on it, he wouldn’t get that far. He looked like an ant he was so far away. I looked again at the people blocking my way.
Something happened then and I looked back to Shred. I reached down as though the structure was a miniature – a toy. Where Shred was took place a strange bug. Most would likely have found it horrifying to look at, but I knew it was him and thus dismissed the appearance. I somehow knew the people in front of me did that to him and was outraged.
I believe I woke up after that before anything was solved/concluded.

A few days before this one, I had something somewhat similar go on in my dreams. It was of course an “escape” dream. I was at what I knew to be a school, likely a college. I looked about, there was a pool out back, I was once in a cafeteria-like place but it seemed more like a lounging/study hall area. I saw Jovan there as well as a few other familiar faces. Something urged me to leave. I wanted out. I wandered around, stumbled upon the pool again but only this time there were a bunch of students partying. Eventually I reach the front part of the school. I merely want to get to a place that is deserted there. I see a ledge and decide to jump – I always seem to be able to jump to the tops of buildings. Jovan had followed me and poked fun at me that I could have simply walked up as there was a sloping wall that led to it. Something ticked me off – the last straw as you will.
I couldn’t simply find peace by going to a high place, so I was leaving. Jovan refused to let me and went to get a teacher and students he and I knew to force me to stay there. I jumped into the air and flew.
They followed, searched for me and I avoided. Eventually I left town, flew higher and drifted to a strange land. It was mainly of African Americans… dressed in Little House on the Prairie times. Some of the women were as tall as sky scrapers… I saw one dancing with a man of average height. I paused and thought, I’ve been here before in previous dreams.
I carried on, and drifted to a more modern land. There was construction going on, I saw rust colored pipes on a high building, thought I had been there before again, passed it and eventually came to a bunch of skyways.
One looked like tracks to a roller coaster and I saw a short train riding on it. I observed life below me. Everyone was small and busy looking. I continued on my way, high in the sky and eventually woke up.

These two dreams are the first ones to combine my dreams of school, which usually deal with irritation and wanting to escape, and my flying dreams that mainly consist of simply drifting high above and seeing different lands as I observe the world below. I never thought to connect the two really.

The one where Jovan appears, I told my mom about it. I mused about it meaning I might have felt I didn’t belong in this world. After all, I feel pretty estranged to fellow humans anyway. In my dreams I usually feel at peace when flying. I love just drifting in them and watching the world below. In my dreams at a school or such usually just deal with me thinking, “Why am I here?”  That, or I am very irritated with someone or something bothering me and I lash out in some way or another. Sometimes I just flat out leave.
Oh well. I just thought I’d post these two.

Well, my mom admits to me today that she thinks I might be PTSD. She was reading aloud from a book while we were in the car late this morning. She read the second section “PTSD-A Normal Reaction to an Abnormal Amount of Stress.” I laughed lightly at that.
She started to read about the four types of disassociation. The first was where sense and emotions disconnect. I was vaguely disturbed hearing what she read. She moved onto the second, which was depersonalization or derealization.

“Here you feel like a robot or thing.”
“It is not uncommon for survivors to bite, hit, or try to injure themselves physically so they can feel ‘real’ or ‘alive’.”

I was a bit surprised to hear the robot bit. Mom went on about how once I even said I felt like one once. I vaguely recall. It was something along the lines of being mechanical. In any case, after she read the rest I smirked and jokingly asked, “So, does that mean I suffer from PTSD?”
My mom apparently thinks so.

Later on, probably even around twelve hours from that last conversation, I was doing my chores and ask her, “Do you think you are knowledgeable on PTSD? As in, how well you know about it?”
She replied yes, which I eventually understood to mean she knew the topic very well. So, I reaffirmed as to whether she really did think I was PTSD. She does.
I eventually ask, “So all in all… What do you think I really am in cases of mental stability?”
She asked me something… I cannot really recall, but in any case I didn’t understand what she was asking and thus told her to go with that. She did. It apparently was what I was looking for. I asked her what she thought of the bi-polar thing. She agrees with it. There was a bit of talk. I asked her if the type I had would ever go away since what brought mine on was stress. She said no. She used the example of my anxiety and the like. I used the analogy of my wrist.
I ask about the Aspergers. She said she really wasn’t sure on that… perhaps she didn’t really think it was right. She spoke about my inability to relate to people, but saying it could be PTSD. She then spoke about the communication problems and that was the only factor that really seemed to keep it in the list of possibilities.
If I do have PTSD, my mom believes it was likely all due to my sister. I somewhat smirked at that. Perhaps… but I think there was more to it than just my sister. I kept quiet though.
All in all, it rather surprises me. I know some about PTSD, but I never would have considered myself as such. Perhaps it is how the disorder was presented to me through media… then again those presented were likely to great extremes. Oh, well.
I really don’t know what I think of this. I suppose it is a possibility, but… with how my life has been up to now… I suppose it would be as though I were making a mockery to those who have it.
I mean, really. When you hear about PTSD it is usually associated with people in war, survivors of terrible physical abuse, people who underwent natural disasters… Then there is me, who ends up having PTSD just due to my sister? Truthfully, if I do have it… I find it a bit pathetic on my account. Why? I suppose I could go back and say, “When younger I made a great deal about being strong and show no weaknesses.” While I am not so intense about that now, I do think the scenario is a bit sad.
So what is my opinion? Possibility, but I never saw it coming.