It’s been a long time since my previous diary (May 7, 2018 to be exact). I haven’t been able to write to update you all because the nature of my job revolves around hurricane season. I’ve been working like a doge (thanks Hurricane Lane, Florence and Michael!). I’m also fully aware that I’m in Ohio where nothing ever happens but also I’m devastated for the victims in the paths of these treacherous storms, don’t get me wrong. I’m just a bit tired.
For some reason, I can’t link the previous diary (or maybe I just don’t know what the hell I’m doing) but in any case, just click my user name and it’s easy enough to find. If you don’t care to read that long, depressing story, here’s the summary; I’m 45. My younger brother is 40. He’s mentally ill and I’m his only hope for a caretaker in this family. He lived with me for 6-7 years. He’s schizophrenic and depressed AND he was an abused child. He has poor coping skills, he is in no way independent or functional (example — if you let him get away with it, he will not bathe for months. If you try to ask him nicely to bathe, he might threaten to kill you), he has anger management issues and he seems to be highly disrespectful of women. You can read in more detail about the shit that I’ve been through if you care to read my previous diaries. And here’s the thing; he’s not getting better. He was actually getting worse. Over the years, the abuse escalated to death threats. He did not always threaten to kill me, he used to just call me names. Next thing was, he threatened to “beat my ass”. He never got in my face and menacingly threatened to kill me until the past few months. A year maybe? I don’t know exactly.
Long story short, I found a place for my brother. We interviewed with the director. We had to meet with a representative from the govt. after that. We had to wait for the govt. to approve the funding for him to stay there, officially and in writing. It took 4 months. With every day that passed, in intense anticipation for the day when the letter would come, it got harder and harder for me to deal with the things that came along with living with somebody in that condition. That day finally came. We had some shopping to do.
Luckily, I had one of my younger and more stylish brothers to step in as a personal shopper. I gave up hope for salvaging anything that he previously owned and I bought him an entirely new wardrobe. Thanks to my younger brother, we picked up some really nice stuff at good prices.
I realized that my brother’s hygiene habits were really bad when he took off his wave scarf (du-rag, whatever) and he just had a mass of locked-up, matted hair. I had to cut it off into a short afro because there was no hope in detangling it. This is how bad mental illness is. Me, trying to pry into my grown-ass younger brother’s hair-combing, ass-washing habits was never going to go over well.
I had been so wrong. So, so wrong to take him in and think that he’d be ok when he needed so much more. This wasn’t the 1st time I had felt that way, just one of the times when it hit me like a truck.
Another time it hit me was when he was distracted enough for me to get in that room of his on the 2nd last day he lived with me. The horror. He had actually decided to go ahead and just pee into 2 liter bottles and not even bother to go to the...and there were several of them. And the garbage. The dishes shattered and scattered everywhere. He got so angry if you went in that room. I’ve taken a lot of abuse over the years for going into that room and cleaning it but the squalor was never that bad. The last few months I decide not to agitate him by going in there, he knew it and just did the absolute worst. He’s getting worse. My resolve was strengthened again because I found myself being sad he was leaving and also wondering if I was doing the right thing. Yes, yes. I was doing the right thing.
I helped him unpack his new wardrobe in the new place. I programmed my number in his phone and told him I’d see him later. I’m only like 1 mile away, no big deal. He calls me and I always answer. He pops up at my house the first few days of living at the group home. I know he did that just to test how truthful I was being when I said that he was welcome anytime.
I bought him a new winter coat and dyed his hair for him (he’s going prematurely gray) a few weekends ago. I couldn’t take him to get the new winter boots last weekend because of Hurricane Michael (I was working about 34 overtime hours, including weekends) but I’ll take him today or tomorrow. Maybe we’ll go see the new “Halloween” film.
I always ask him if he’s ok. I see him every Sunday (or Saturday night if I’m working) to drop off pocket money for the week. He says he’s happy. I can tell he feels lonely while adjusting to this new place. He called me to get his brothers’ numbers the other night.
As for me, I’m slowly adjusting. I have found the courage to seek a better job, not that my job hasn’t been great. In fact, the skills I’ve developed there over the past (nearly) 5 years will take me far. But when you see a job listing that pays more and is closer to your house, you gotta go for it. I have an interview on Monday evening. Wish me luck.
I want to thank everyone for their support and for making me feel loved. I can’t fully express how much it helped me. My life is still pretty crazy with all the adjustments, etc but everything is coming together.
This site, this community has been my rock for the past 10 years or so. You’ve seen me through so much. I used to be unemployed in a bad relationship. Then I was broke and trying to survive on my own. Then I had an ok job but I was stressed out because of my mentally ill brother. Now I found a place for my brother and I’m about to get a better job (fingers crossed). I’m pretty sure it’s because of everything I learned from all of you. Thank you again.
*I woke up so early with so much on my mind. I might go back to sleep but I’ll be up in a few hours.