Rock Bottom Continued

As I explained in the previous post, me and my brother were good friends starting out in early adulthood, and it continued that way for many years.  The things I would put up with, that would probably end most friendships, I would forgive him for, and think that he didn't really mean to disrespect me by his actions, but now I know he's kept his resentment toward me, and blames me and everyone in his past for the way he is today, including our parents. 

When I was 21, I got married.  A few months later my wife had a baby boy.  From then on, my life changed, and I was a proud father.  I was working one full time job and two part time jobs at the time, and my credit was excellent, and I was able to afford a new car.  I had an older car that I would drive to work, and I bought the new car so my wife could get around safely with our newborn.  One day I get a call from my brother, he needs a place to stay for a while.  Against my wife's wishes, I agree to let him stay with us, in our little 2 bedroom apartment.  The only place we had for him to sleep was on the couch.  One night, while I was sleeping, my wife woke me up, claiming our new car was gone, and my brother was gone too.  I couldn't beleive it!  I looked out the window, and the car was gone.  I waited for a half hour, thinking he just went up to the store, but he wasn't back yet.  I called my parents house to see if he went there, mabe to pick up some clothes, but he wasn't.  He showed up an hour later, and me and my wife both let him know we didn't appreciate him taking our car without permission.  He apologized, and as far as I know it didn't happen again.  After a short period of time, he moved down to Texas with my parents.  My dad's job transferred him down to Fort Worth, and I was free to continue my new family life.  A couple of years later, me and my wife separated, and devorced a short time later.  She found someone else that she worked with, while we were married, and ultimately married him.  My finacial situation went to peices due to at this time I had only the full time job now, and she had a job making a little more than me, and now I couldn't make all the payments on the rent, car, and multiple credit cards.  I filed bankruptcy, and lost my car.  By this time, my dad was transferred to Indiana, and let me borrow one of his cars, and my brother asked to move back in with me. I let him, but I was still depressed about my divorce, and I stopped paying rent on my apartment, and was evicted.  My uncle was nice enough to let me and my brother stay with him for a couple of months, until I could get back on my feet.  While staying with my uncle, my dad asked me and my brother to move down to Indiana and stay with him and my mother, to help out with her care while she was dying of cancer.  I quit my job I had for 10 months at the cable company here in Michigan, and my brother and I moved to Indiana.  I worked most of my year and a half stay in Indiana, at Wendys and as a cable contractor, but my brother moved back to Michigan and stayed with my sister.  My mom soon passed away, and I stayed a couple of months to help out my dad, and I worked and saved up enough money to move back to Michigan.  My sister let me move in with her family, and I could not get my old job back, they said because I was gone for more than a year.  My brother in law got me and my brother in at the job he worked at.  About a year later  I was able to get a job at another cable company.  Not long after, I started seeing one of my sister's employees, and we both moved into an apartment together.  The apartment was in her name because I still owed on my previous apartment.  I payed for the rent, and she payed the utilities. For the first time in years I was happy.  About a year later I got a call from my brother.  "Can I stay with you for a while?"

Shortly after he moved in, my girlfriend left me, and I continued paying rent in her name, and stayed in the apartment.  One day I came home from work and found an eviction notice on my door.  My brother left his keys inside the apartment, and went in the leasing office and claimed he was me, and asked for a spare key.  They checked the lease, and found only my x-girlfriends name on it and told him that I wasn't supposed to be living there, they weren't going to give him a key, and to expect a notice of eviction.  So, we were kicked out of there.  The best apartment complex I ever lived in.  We put all of our belongings in storage I payed for, and moved temporarily into a friend's camper in his backyard.  When winter came, I was able to move into an apartment on my own, and my brother moved in with his girlfriend.  This time was the best few years I would have, because I was by myself.  So peaceful.  I would get my son on the weekends, and I had my car to myself, and even though child support kept me pretty much broke, I was happy again.  No one but me and my son to worry about.  Even though the tenants above me played loud music all day long, and walked loudly above my head, I found out later this was the only peace I would have for many years to come.  The conclusion of this story will be in my next post, and it will be the most crazy experinces I have ever had, and expect to have in my life.

Rock Bottom

 When I was a kid, I remember my dad, a few times, explaining to his friends or family members, that he considered himself to be " lower-middle class".  I didn't understand what he meant at the time, because I was so young, and it was the only life I ever knew.  I knew there were many people out there that were a lot poorer than us, and that there were other people who were alot more comfortable than us, and even very wealthy.  My dad was an auto worker, working on the assembly line for a major US automaker.  He had a wife and 3 kids to provide for, all about a year apart, two boys and a girl, and he never seemed to be able to save money and get ahead in life.  My mom even worked at various jobs trying to better our family's financial situation, but no matter how hard they tried, it seemed they could usually not afford to bring us to full-middle class. 

The first house I remember living in, we moved into when I was 3 or 4 years old.  It was in the city of Inkster, Michigan.  It was a small 3 bedroom ranch house on a corner lot, with a big backyard.  About a year after moving in, we all felt that there was a negative energy in the house, and after a while longer, after some horrifying experiences, we came to the realization that the house was haunted.  This wasn't a case of "we thought we heard things" or "we thought we saw things" that shouldn't have been there, we saw/heard things that I won't go into right now, it was real.    Real enough for my mom to seek help from our church, and our pastor and his assistant came over to our house, bibles in hand, and walked around praying for God to drive out the evil spirits.  It seemed to help, but I continued to have reoccuring nightmares, and I have even had one of the same a little over a year ago.(at age 39)  Of course those nightmares don't affect me now like they did when I was young, but it amazes me that I still have them this many years later.  We moved out of that house probably less than a year after the pastors visit, and the tension in our family was cut literally in half.  Tensions that continued were mostly between me and my brother and between my dad and us boys.  My dad was a Vietnam Veteran, and he didn't take no crap from anyone.  He was strict in his dicipline, and many times, my brother and I received punishment in the form of pain, usually by using his belt, or a smack in the face or the head.  My mom beleived in using the belt too, and if we were diciplined by her, we usually got it 100 times worse when my dad got home from work, and she told him.  I never blamed my dad for this because it kept us in line, for the most part, and created a high tolerance for pain.  Knowing what I know now, my dad probably suffered from PTSD, and probably went too far in his dicipline, but I always looked up to him and felt loved and cared for.  I still think to this day I have the best dad in the world, and hold no resentment toward him.  He has helped me "over and beyond" all the years of my life, and I love him very much. 

My brother and I have had a very shaky relationship most of our life.  We would fight all of the time, from the years we lived in the above mentioned house in Inkster, all the way until I was about 17 years old.  He never beat me in a fight, and could only get back at me by telling my mom or dad on me for hurting him.  By the age of 8, I was blamed so much for hurting him, that any time  my brother was taken to the hospital for an injury, the nurses or doctors would ask "was this injury caused by his brother Wesley again?".  I didn't know it at the time, but I was causing very deep rooted resentment in my brother towards me.  I resented him alot back then, because I remember he would sometimes lie, and blame things on me that I did not do, because he knew my parents would beleive it, because I had hurt him so much already.  I would get punished by my dad (very painfully) and I would hate my brother for a couple of days, and then got over it, until the next time.  The last fight I remember we had, was when I was 17, and he was 14.  He started it, while in the living room, and he thought he was finally going to be able to get the best of me, and was standing in a fighting stance toward me, but he made the mistake of saying something that pissed me off.  I took a running jump kick at him, hitting him in the chest, and causing him to fall back over the arm of the couch.  I made the mistake of doing this while my dad was home.  When My dad heard my brother yell out in pain and cry, he ran into the living room and started yelling "what happened?". My brother was able to get out "Wes...Wes" as he was laying in the floor crying and holding his chest.  My dad turned to me and  Beat  my  ass!!!  I guarentee that I got the worse end of that deal. (x 10)  I know I deserved it because I could have seriously injured him, but for a while he had tried to get me to fight him, because he thought he could win a fight with me, because he could beat everyone else he would fight, including guys my age.

Years went by, and we were young adults, and we talked about our fights when we were younger, and my brother claimed he didn't hold a grudge.  We became good friends, and there seemed to be nothing that we wouldn't do for eachother.  Little did I know the "timebomb/s" I had helped plant in my younger brother in our early to late childhood would come back to haunt me as I was approaching 40 years old.  More about this story will be revealed soon.

Wes

Untitled

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