Monday, January 19, 2009

When Helping Family Hurts You

Writen by Tim Carr

Two months ago I had Pneumonia. I am still recovering from the effects of it. Workouts have been improving daily over the last month. I have been getting my strength back. My health has been improving daily. I have been having a clear vision for my future. The one thing that loomed on the horizon as a potential unknown was my living situation.

I have been living out in the country for almost 14 months now. My flat was about 20 miles from any major city. The cost of gas was eating me alive, but when I slept at night, I was at peace. I felt safe. Moreover, the apartment was clean (I am clean) and it was perfect for my needs. The rent was fairly steep, but it included utilities so it was a fairly reasonable place to live. In most ways, it was perfect for me. So, should I renew and stay another year, or find cheaper environs if possible?

Then I made the fateful mistake of talking to my brother one night about three months ago during which I dared to suggest he get a roommate. You see, we had been gabbing on the phone about this and that when he began to bemoan his financial situation. He had a nice condominium for the last 2-3 years and he just could not afford it on his salary any more. So, I suggested he leave that place and move into the apartment complex I was in. It was close to many things he liked (mountains and folks music scene). What's more, there was an awesome, huge, vacant apartment within the complex that almost defies description. It was a very cool place indeed.

I had several reasons for suggesting this course of action for my brother. First, it would save us both money. We could each spend $600.00 a month and everything was included. There was room to spare and my brother would have a place for all his furniture and books. Seeing as how I had relatively little of these things, it made good sense. Plus, the place had a Jacuzzi, which would have been very therapeutic for us both.

Second, and this is where things get dicey, my brother had destroyed his current place of residence over the last three years. He was overwhelmed by its size and the amount of clutter. He just let it go. In the 2-3 years he had lived there, he simply trashed the joint. He never cleaned it once, and it was filthy, covered in cat vomit (he has a precious cat that we both love, but she has a nervous stomach). He never changed the air filters which led to the air conditioner breaking and I hated going there because if how messy it was. Moreover, it was just bad for my lungs. In light of all of this, it seemed that starting over with a clean slate might be good for my brother.

My suggestion would allow him to start over with a new place. But, as I read what I am typing I begin to see just how stupid and foolish that all sounds. After all, this brother of mine is a grown man who was content with piles of cat vomit all over his apartment. What was I thinking to believe that he would be able to change if he got a fresh new start? He had developed some strong, negative habits at his place and his habits would follow him wherever he went, unless he decided to change.

Then there were the fights. At times my brother and I just fight, fuss and argue. I am told this is what brothers do. Is that really true? Anyway, I thought that in the past few months things had been going well between us and that maybe we could room together. We seemed to be enjoying each others company more and more, however we only spent short periods of time together and maybe that is why we were getting along so swimmingly. More delusion, perhaps? Was I was a fool for thinking this?

In the end, my brother declined my offer. He said the wear and tear on his car, coupled with fuel costs, was just too much for him to handle and that he could not see uprooting himself from his home. So the idea was shelved. Thank God for small miracles too, because I suspect that if we had done this he would have treated this new place just like his old place.

Anyway, a few days passed after that particular conversation. We had the chance to speak again a few days later. During that conversation, he told me he thought I was right and that he did think he needed a roommate but that he wanted me to be the roommate and he wanted me to move into his basement.

Naturally, I had my reservations because of the filth at his place and his personality is so different from mine, but he assured me that he would clean the place and get it in shape so that it would be a healthy environment for me. I thought about it and after a few days and gave him a call. I spoke to him and said that as long as he understood the place needed to be clean I could deal with it. So, the agreement was made and I told my landlord to start looking for another tenant.

Well, that was two months ago. My brother had the whole month of April to get things in order. By the third week of April he had done nothing. His place was not ready. Not by a long-shot. In the meantime however, my landlady had rented my apartment out and I was in panic.

Where was I going to go? My brother had basically done what he has always done: He put things off so much that by the time he started to work on the apartment he realized that he had bitten off more than he could chew. There was no way he was going to have the place ready in time for me to move in. I began to pray that God would make my place available for one more month, and against all odds He did make it available. The people who leased the place backed out at the last minute which meant I could rent it if I wanted.

My brother had begged me for more time and I told him that my place was still available and that I could possibly take it for one more month, which is what I did. All of this came to pass because my brother was not ready. I had my place still. All was fine with my world and we moved forward.

My brother now had the month of May to get the Apartment ready. This was graduation weekend at his place of employment however. He was so busy and so tired at the end of the day that he just didn't have the energy to get the apartment ready. So, he failed to follow through to the extent necessary to allow for a roommate. For all of his forthcoming criticism of me for wanting to back out at the last minute, he has done nothing BUT wait until the last minute all his life. And it not only costs him, it costs those around him.

Two weeks from the end of May my brother had not done much to the basement. I was having second thoughts. I told him so. The fights began to happen any time we spoke. He was not moving fast enough and I needed to get on with my life. I should have just renewed my lease then, but my brother was looking at getting behind on rent and possibly evicted. Besides, there was no way in hell anyone else would put up with his shenanigans and he stood a scant chance of finding a roommate until his house was in order. So I was torn between two loyalties: one to myself and one to family.

I knew my brother needed help, that much is true. But I also knew I didn't feel right about leaving. My brother needed a roommate, but I didn't. Why then should I move in with him? Again I asked him to come live with me. The upstairs 3-BR apartment was no longer available, but my place was and while it was smaller, it could do for a while. He refused again, saying that there was no way he was going to uproot himself from his home and that he was going to hold me to my commitment to move into his place, even though he had failed to follow through on his end: the apartment was still filthy and in even more disarray than before. There was no way my stuff, scant though it was, would fit in the basement he wanted me to rent out. I was looking at storage facilities as a potential cost and I was really unhappy and angry at this point.

So, you now get the picture, don't you? Two months ago, my brother promised me big changes in his place. He wanted me for a roommate, because according to him I represented the least amount of lifestyle change for him, and he promised he would get his place livable for me. Moreover, I didn't want him to get evicted. I wanted to help him. He is my brother after all. In spite of the contentious history he and I have, I felt I could handle the idea of living with him as long as the place was clean.

Now we are down to the wire with one week to go, folks, and it's clear my brother has no place for me to put my things!! Of course, he is feeling the pressure of financial commitments too. I am looking at having to store my belongings in a facility. I no longer want to move in with him at all and my landlady needs to know what I am going to do. She needs a decision, and oh by the way....did I mention that my brother managed to lose his job? Yup. He lost his job exactly one week from the move. His firing/resignation is another story unto itself, but the timing of this information could not have been worse. I had actually called him to tell him there was no way I was moving in with him when he dropped this bomb on me. It floored me. How was I going to back out now? How could I tell my own brother on the day he gets fired that I am backing out on him. So, I let him know that I would be there for him.

Well, at this point we are six days away from the end of the month. My brother is frantic. He is expecting me to move in even though we have had countless fights and even though I had expressed my reservations and lack of desire to move in with him. Because he had lost his job I agreed to go ahead with this transition, even though I suspected I would be miserable as a result. To make things worse, a small girl next door to me had falling in love with me. She adored me and we were great friends. She was just so adorable, and she did not want me to move. I was really in a tight spot. I didn't have the strength to do what I knew I needed to do because if I stayed put, my brother would be devastated. But you know, the Spirit is strong, and it had been telling me what to do all month long.

As we approached D-Day, I called my brother. After much prayer I knew what I needed to do, and even though it was difficult I made the decision to let my brother down.

I called him and told him I could not do this move. He told me that if I backed out on him I was a bastard and that with all the shit he had on him he was not about to let me dump more shit on him by pulling out of this arrangement we had. The day before the move was to take place, I called him once more at home. It was 10:30 PM. I begged and pleaded with him. It was the eleventh hour, and I didn't to go through with this. I begged him to let me out of this commitment and he just hung up on me.

So, there it was. I was going to have to do this thing. I could not hurt my brother by leaving him in the lurch like this. I loved him, so how could I do that t o him? But as much as I loved him, I now resented him too. He was in a tough spot. I know this. I know he was scared. But I also perceived that he was being selfish and self-centered about this. I perceived he was unhealthy emotionally. And I was going to force myself to move in with this human being? And why? How emotionally healthy does it make me, that I would leave my peaceful environs, my dreams and visions, just to save a person who has so mismanaged his life that he could not survive without crisis intervention?

The next day I woke up at 3:00 AM and sat on my bed and nearly vomited. I felt like I was about to be executed and I was hours away from learning about the greatest mystery known to man: death. I prayed and prayed. I agonized. I wanted to pick up the phone and call my landlord just to arrange a meeting where I could renew my lease. I wanted to tell my brother to fend for himself. He created his mess, and he is responsible for his life. And yet, I didn't have the strength to do that. I was more concerned about avoiding feelings of guilt and looking like a traitor in my brothers eyes than I was about my own health, success and happiness. Imagine that!

By 9Am I was a mess. I was pacing my apartment like a caged animal, trying to work up the intestinal fortitude to do what was best for me. As a Christian, this seemed counterintuitive. Were we not suppose to be our brothers keeper? Are we not suppose to put the needs of others above our own? Or did I misunderstand the teachings of Christ so much that I was about to make one of the biggest mistakes of my life, and for all of the wrong reasons?

By noon, I had managed to force myself to walk out of the apartment, get in my car and head down the road to my demise. As I drove toward town to get the rental truck, the resentment of my brother rose to a crescendo. I was feeling such loathing for him, or was it for myself for doing what I felt was so wrong to do? I had no reason to be upset with my brother. Not really. It was myself I was upset with. I had a wonderful life that I decided to throw away in order to help someone else who I now resented. And yet I kept driving, like a herd of swine collectively rushing off a cliff to its death, driven by some unseen force.

I spent $220.00 to get the truck and the damn storage facility where all my life would be stored. Especially my weights. My precious weights. And for how long? A day? A month? A year? And all for a brother who up until recently never really had much in common with me. We didn't really even like each other all that much. At least not very often.

Needless to say the day was rough. It was full or regret. Getting the rental truck was weird. I felt so numb, I was so exhausted that I didn't have time for sitting down and counting the cost of my decision. My brother, who had wanted to help me, rode with me out to my place in the rental truck. We barely spoke.

When we got to my place in the country it was 4PM. This little girl in the apartment complex saw me back the truck into my parking space. She was the little one I mentioned earlier who had grown so attached to me. She came running out of her apartment , those little five year old legs barely holding her up, and she just collapsed into my legs, crying so hard. It was so hard for us both. She counted on me to be there for her, and I let her down. I was crushed. My brother stood there watching this unfold and he appeared to be unmoved, though he denies this.

I was hoping my brother would see this anguishing display, walk into my apartment, turn around and say, "Tim, this just isn't right. It feels all wrong. Stay here." Instead, he walked into my apartment, took one look at it and said, "You are not ready. You are not packed. This is going to be hard to do." Of course, this was untrue, I was packed. But that is beside the point. He was getting what he wanted. And I was not.

We loaded the truck and by 6PM what remained in my apartment could be gotten by car. We drove to the storage facility nearby and it was closed! This meant I had to take my brother all the way back to town and then drive the truck ALL the way back out into the country where I would sleep in my apartment overnight for what would be the last time, or so I thought.

The very next morning, I woke up and was so tempted to just unload the truck that we had packed the day before. I wanted so much to do it. But I was to exhausted by then to make the mental leap necessary to change direction. I just went forward with the plan.

I unloaded the truck, took it back to town, got into my car, came back out to my place again and spent one last night in my place. It was so sad to do this and for so many reasons. The bottom line is I was committed, or should have been committed.

Postscript:

I have been at my brothers place three nights and already I want to leave. I have no reason to be here. None that I can see. And yet the $220.00 I spent on the move, the $200.00 I gave to my brother for partial rent and the $160.00 I spent on the Voynage phone system has so damaged my bank balance that I am not sure I could move back to my place even if I wanted to. Yet, that is what I want to do. The question is will I? Should I?

Oh, and one more thing. Over the last five years I have had several friends who stuck by me closer that a brother. One, who is someone I love with all my heart, is a sweet lady in Canada. The best friend I have ever had, really. We have spoken to each other 4-5 times a day for the last five years. She is my soul mate of sorts. She loves me too. Her name is Bunny. I had a phone calling plan that allowed me to speak to her as much as I wanted. That too, is now gone. My brother uses Sprint, not Verizon, and Sprint has no such calling plan. Hence the need for Voynage, if I wanted to stay in touch with Bunzer.

At present, I feel weak, underweight, sick and tired. I am at my brothers place to make HIM feel secure. Yet, if I were back at my place I would still be in a flow of faith and blessing, I would be working out and looking forward to a bright future. Now, that vision and focus has been damaged.

In the end, I love my brother, but just because I love him does not mean if I help him I will be happy. I have learned this lesson the hard way. If I don't help him, I will feel remorse as well. It is a difficult place to be in.

I suppose I could sit down and itemize it. I could look at the pro's and con's of the two situations, but really do I need to do that? The Spirit doesn't look at pro's and con's. It looks at Truth and Peace. That is what the Spirit tried to teach me the other day. I just have to have the courage to do what is right for me.

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