The Real Monster

My Mom continues to recover from her knee surgery. The fact that she is feeling both stronger and less pain has been the bright spot in an otherwise dismal weekend. The rest of the weekend has been a nightmare.

Drugs are a horrible scourge, so those impacted still hide in shame. My brother has been addicted to drugs and alcohol for nearly 25 years and over that time I have watched his demise and spiral out of control. I thought I had witnessed his bottom so many times, but each time he demonstrated that he was capable of diving deeper into the darkness.  Nothing over the past 25 years prepared me for the monster that emerged over the weekend.

With my Mom out of commission, I tried to pick up the support reigns with my brother. When he called and asked me to send him some food because he was both homeless and hungry, I obliged. I ordered him a sandwich and Gatorade from Subway for delivery. My act of kindness was met with greedy wrath.

He called me and demanded that I send him more food, cigarettes, and beer.  When I refused, he became belligerent.  When I refused again, he became abusive. I ended up blocking his number to the house phone so my Mom could rest. The berating threats continued through text messaging.
You are a whore.
You are ugly.
You are fat.
You are worthless.
I hope you get cancer again and die.
I hope your children die.
You are disgusting.
You should make me happy by killing yourself.

These are only the texts that I feel comfortable sharing, and those with the expletives removed. He became far more threatening as time passed and when he wasn't getting the money was demanding. He detailed both his hatred for me and his plans to kill my family. He was graphic and engaged.

He doesn't realize that I am desensitized to his abuse. After each message I responded with the same words.  "I love you. Please get help."  Engaging him in any other way only causes more ire.

I am accustomed to his verbal abuse and threats of violence, but I was surprised when the police showed up at my Mom's house on Friday afternoon.  He actually called the police to report me for abuse! He had bragged in an earlier text that he was reporting me for molesting my children, but I didn't think he would actually follow through with his threat. When the officer showed up I simply handed him my phone so that he could read the exchanges. The officer took his name and number and promised to follow-up with the Austin police for wasting his time and resources.

My brother is currently living in Austin, which is my only solace in this horrific situation. I sleep better knowing that the monster is too far away to show up at my door. It feels odd calling this monster my brother, because the brother that I knew and loved died many years ago. His body is still moving, overtaken by a demon. I no longer recognize this person.

I found out this morning that my brother has been arrested (again.)  I feel guilty for feeling relieved that he is no longer able to harass and threaten the family. For a little while, I will sleep easier. I continue to hope that my brother finds sobriety and recovers, but I am resigned to the fact that the decades of abuse have caused irreversible damage.

My heart is broken.