laws are illegal here

I’ve spoken of you in the past tense for years, and I’ve grieved and treated you as if you’ve already died when in reality you’re living somewhere in Vegas. Living being a loose term.

My mother calls me her only child, even though you came first. Did you know that? You’ve only got yourself to blame. When you do go, it’ll break her in ways I can’t imagine and I’ll resent more than I already do.

We were both born with mental illnesses and disabilities. You were born with BPD and I was born with autism and ADHD, and we both inherited whatever came with those diagnosis.

As children, you resented me for simply existing. You resented me for needing additional support. You hated whenever I got any attention or recognition. I resented you too, because I was envious of the Golden Child. You were gifted. I wasn’t. From the get-go, we were miles a part and against one another. Talent vs Hard Work, the set up for any dramatic shonen anime.

You introduced me to a lot though- anime, alternative music & lifestyle, musicals. You hated that too. It was your interest, how dare your younger brother want to share an interest with his elder sister.

We were both bullied relentlessly in school due to being different and poor. You took it in stride but it secretly ate away at you. I felt every remark and threat to my very soul. Even teachers would find a way to belittle and humiliate me. You didn’t care.

We didn’t have a bright childhood- We both lost someone at young ages to horrible circumstances. You probably don’t even remember our old neighbor who was murdered. She wasn’t even 6. You made fun of me for grieving her.

You self-harmed more times than I can count. You tried suicide more times than I can count. I couldn’t understand why.

Our father was still a lost teenage punk at heart. He preferred heroin and alcohol over being a father. He and mom divorced before I even entered Kindergarten. We would only see him on weekends and he acted more of a friend than a dad, sighing and rolling his eyes whenever we would ask for something.

He eventually stopped trying altogether- he didn’t bother to show up for my 16th birthday nor my graduation while my grandmother came from another state to congratulate me. My mother asked me if I wanted to talk about it. I simply said no, and that I expected it to happen and I honestly didn’t care anymore. She was furious at him.

Our stepfather was worse. Many years of abuse to us. You and mom took it worse than me. You were women, and he liked to hurt women. Mom’s coping was to emotionally and verbally abuse us because she felt trapped. After kicking our stepfather out, she found Jesus and became overbearing to the both of us. We couldn’t stand it. For once, we agreed on something.

After I graduated, you got worse. You burned many bridges. You secluded yourself and began to numb the pain with alcohol abuse, pot and eventually started to bond with our father over heroin. “Choose Life” will always come to mind after finding out.

I didn’t try to reconnect with him. While you made a reckless and life ruining way to bond with an absent father, I chose to move on. I figured it wasn’t worth the mental energy. I thought you were foolish and stupid.

That’s how I coped. I moved on and tried not to look back and shoved everything deep down. Just keep moving.

When I was 20, we began to bond a tiny bit since you moved out. At this point, I didn’t know you were doing drugs, I just knew you had an alcohol problem. We figured we were both adults so we could try to be friends. It didn’t stick.

When I was 21, you invited me to go out to dinner with you and dad. We both noticed how far gone he was. I saw it in your face when you made the realization. I drove you home in silence. That was the last I saw him. I know he’s still alive because his sister would tell us otherwise.

Before we made the move to Ohio, we tried several times to reroot ourselves across the country to Oregon or Washington. Each time it was halted because you sabotaged yourself and mom had to spend her savings to save you. I began resenting you each time. I wanted a chance to start fresh, and you weren’t letting us.

When we did move to Ohio, you stayed behind. That’s when the real drug abuse began. You even met up with our former stepfather- the one who berated, beat and touched you. You were desperate for a father figure. I thought it was pathetic. That’s when I stopped caring and began to move on.

Over the years you began to abuse more and more hard drugs and kept sabotaging yourself to make your life harder and expecting your mommy to drop everything and save you. She did everything she could- she paid for treatments, she paid for therapy and counseling, she offered a roof over your head and warm meals- but you backed out at the last second because she wanted to enforce rules on you because you can’t be trusted. You said you’re an adult, but you behaved like a child.

You moved to Vegas. You had support there, some good friends who took you in. What happened? They imposed rules because they had a family and you purposefully broke them, leading you to getting kicked out. She asked mom for help and she did what she could from across the country even though you brought this problem upon yourself.

You chose to just live in your car. It wasn’t even your car- it was mine. I was forced to give it to you before we moved out of PA.

You began to take every hard drug under the sun. You got together with men who resembled dad and mistreated you just like our former stepfather. But you refused to leave after mom offered to help.

You eventually broke down and asked mom to fly out and help you. You didn’t want to live like that anymore. She spent a lot of money on last minute flights and hotels. When it was time to leave, you refused. Mom returned home empty handed, with hundreds of dollars gone to waste and a broken heart.

You began living in the streets or in crackhouses, mom wouldn’t hear from you for weeks or months. Yet she still aided you financially whenever you would ask. Because you’re her baby girl. You kept making bad choice after bad choice only leading to you getting beaten, robbed, drugged and raped. But you still didn’t want to leave your situation.

You were upset when you weren’t invited to my wedding. Why would I want you there in the state you’re at? Mom even told you that you needed to be over a year sober for me to even consider inviting you.

You eventually broke down again and asked mom to take you home. She drove out this time, and brought you back. It took over a week. She said you looked like a skeleton. You looked older than mom.

You were making some progress. You were living on mom’s couch and making appointments and working on recovery and detox. Then in the middle of the night, you packed up your shit, stole some money and prescription meds and told mom you were heading back to Vegas. You missed your “family.” That broke mom to hear that.

I snapped and told mom that she can’t fix you and she needs to stop supporting you. You don’t want it. You made your bed. I said I had no sister. She finally accepted it and put up boundaries. No more finances from her, no more dropping everything to help you only for you to waste her time and money. She kept pulling from her retirement fund to help you, do you even know that?

You tried multiple times to get mom to help you fix your problems, and she stood her ground. She knows I wouldn’t respect her if she folded.

You broke mom. I don’t even know how to help her anymore. Each year she gets worse, and it’s not really my job to take care of her. I feel bad to say it but it’s a burden. I’ve built my own life and I intend on living it. I’m keeping her at a distance because I love her but I can’t be her caretaker after everything.

Now you go months without any updates. Mom wouldn’t cut you out completely like I would. You have a new abusive boyfriend and now you’re hooked on fent. I’m waiting for the call that you died.

I don’t know how I’ll react to your actual death.

I’m sorry the circumstances were stacked against you from the moment you were born. No one deserves that. I’m sorry your illness prevented you from healthy coping mechanisms but you were given many chances to turn things around. I’m sorry you didn’t have a healthy support system or surround yourself with good people like I did.

Neither of us deserved what happened to each other. I’m sorry I moved on, but I had to.

I still resent you. I wish things were different. I wish we could’ve been friends. I wish I could’ve known you better.

I have sisters now- 4 of them in fact. I’m no longer a younger brother, I’m an elder brother. I love them so much and they love me. I’m thankful for this new life.

“I wish you could know me, and I wish I could know you much more sometimes

Sit in the yard while the day dies, leave it all on the table

And I’ll say I love you, and mean it this time

Say, I’m sorry for everything else

If we found a way to the other side