Without my brother,I may as well be dead.In fact,the world can go to hell.
I am not 100% sure of what I want to accomplish by posting this online. May be I just want to vent and leave it on writing for someone to read. May be a quiet part of me wants some sympathy but is not courageous enough so it is seeking some anonymous and faceless word of comfort.Or just a sad and long cry for attention.This is very long,so be warned that there is no point or conclusion to this,don’t expect to find anything at the end.
I am the youngest of 3 brothers by 16 years. Among my many family nicknames,I've known as the peri-menopause baby,which somehow explains the big age difference between my brothers and I. There has always been a blurred and fine line between the roles of second and third father and older brothers in my relationship with them.
My earliest memories of being a little kid mostly involve my brothers Dan and Jem,who were constantly hovering over me, spoiling me,taking care of me and at the same time being extremly permissive by allowing me to do everything that went against my father's rules. Our mother died when I was an infant, which I believe played a big part on driving my Dan and Jem's nurturing and paternal affection towards me.There was not a single lonely minute in my childhood and adolescence,my brothers were always "there".
For my part, my brothers have always been my very own superheroes.It is harder to say that outloud now that I'm not a little kid but it is still true.I admired them since day one and consciously or subconsciously,I strived to please them and live up their standards. I love them so much I can hardly take it.
Our father died unexpectedly in 2004.Jem was 34, Dan 33 and I was 17.After that,I lived with both of them through different seasons,with their respective spouses and children but those were not our best moments.There is such a thing as having too much of the people you love best and my solution was to separate myself from them for a bit.It was hard for the 3 of us but we survived and made it work over time.
Fast forward 4 years and our luck keeps getting better.Daniel got a massive infection.For days it was almost certain that he would die but he pulled a miracle out of his ass (his words) and survived.However,his kidneys were the causality of the whole ordeal.He needed a kidney transplant only 4 months after the initial infection had left his body.Jem and I took the medical tests to see if we were potential matches.Jeremy was not but I was a perfect match.There is no better thing to be perfect at than having the precise,perfect organ your brother needs to survive.Daniel got a new kidney from me,the transplant was successful and I never felt better to be alive than back then. I really thought we could relax and expect to stay together for a long,long time.
Then this past December,after months of putting it off, Jeremy went to the doctor because of some strange pain on his legs.I was out of the country when my sister in law called me and told me that Jeremy had bone cancer.I felt the exact same way I felt with Daniel's disease but only worse because there is no "donation" for cancer.There was nothing I could physically pull out of my body to save this other brother and that fact, to this day,makes me feel like a worthless piece of nothing.
Jeremy died a month ago and I think I am only half alive.I am so angry and so disappointed with the world,humanity and every single breathing thing that I wonder if someday I'm just going to snap and kill someone.I couldn't do a thing for Jeremy.Nothing.I just sat next to his bed for months and watched him struggle with horrible treatments only so he could die in terrible agony.What right does anyone have to keep breathing and living their miserable pathetic lives now that Jeremy is gone?and why the hell no one cares that he existed but a handful of broken,sad people? God,I'm so angry I could kick my own ass.
Don't get me wrong,I know this is not right and I am not seriously going to kill anyone but ****,if the world ended today that would be fine by me.In 6 years I buried my father twice.They were fine,intelligent men with wonderful brains and good intentions.I cannot believe I had the audacity to survive them both. Me and the persons who insist on offering me dumb,empty comfort with godly stories and fantasies of paradise.I don't want my brother in heaven and I don't care what god wants.**** god,self-important,insecure prick,what does he/she/it knows about having brothers,and sisters in law,and nephews and nieces.
I guess I'm going to leave my long and pointless rant there.I still know when I have gone too far.I am sorry you lost someone you loved too.I shouldn't be this hateful but I am and thank goodness I don't own a crowbar because that would be the end of many things in my bedroom.
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Life is pain management~Melvin Udall/As good as it gets.
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June 13th, 2010, 15:15
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