Have I got a story for you! It's really long and somewhat confusing (you might need a pen and paper) I deeply apologize, it won't make sense unless I provide some background information:
I was adopted when I was about 2-3 years old by my maternal grandfather and his new and 2nd wife, my �mother�. My biological parents were both heroin addicts. My father was in and out of jail during most of my infancy and my mother struggled to take care of me, however the drugs and my father got the best of her and hence the adoption. I do not remember my biological parents at all which didn�t matter for my first memories are of being raised in an extremely loving home where I was well cared for and very happy. I had an extremely large extended family for I had all these sisters and brothers whom I later found out to be really my aunts and uncles, except for two.
Ok, here�s the really confusing part: The people who raised me I�ve always known and will always refer to as mommy and daddy. However, daddy was really my maternal grandfather who happened to have five children from his first marriage which ended in divorce (one of them my biological mother). Mommy was a widow who had two children, a boy and a girl, before she met daddy. So, mommy and daddy meet, fall in love, get married and now these two families unite with all these children who are mostly in their twenties - similar to the Brady Bunch, just a bit more dramatic and without Alice.
Ok, with me so far? If you are, then great, if not then no hard feelings, I have trouble with all of this myself. Anyway, there�s a lot to this story and to save you time and a brain aneurysm, I�ll try to cut it way short, no promises. My daddy�s kids had major problems and were eventually eliminated from my world when daddy passed away from a massive heart attack (I was 12), but my mother�s kids were now my new and only siblings. So, I consider them my true brother and sister who were there with me from the very beginning. At about the emotionally developmental and mature age of 11, I found out from my grandmother who was really my great grandmother on my father�s side, meaning daddy, that my biological mother was not only known to her, but was also dead.
I never knew her, yet I knew of her for she was the one mysterious �sister� that I so conveniently never met growing up. Ok, I�m 11, what the heck do I know? I take it rather well and continue on being a happy go lucky child living in an artificial world of happiness and ignorance�until one day when I was about 19, the secret of my existence was bestowed upon me in a most gracious and loving manner from my aunt and biological grandmother (my mother�s mother) when I was at work that not only was my biological mother dead, but that she died of AIDS, which she contracted by shooting heroin intravenously and that I also had a brother 4 years younger (which I never knew about) who died when I was 14 also from AIDS that he had contracted from at birth from our mother. This brother who was kept a secret from me was also adopted but not by anyone in the family, no instead, it was to a family in Illinois (thousands of miles away). Nice, right? I come from the same gene pool as these people � frightening to say the least. My parents didn�t adopt him because at the time, they didn�t know my mother or my brother had AIDS and so they were afraid that there would be more children on the way, knowing my mother. Not sure how to feel about this one, sometimes anger and resentment, other times forgiveness and understanding.
In my typing haste, I also forgot to share that my parents owned a bar and that�s where I was raised. In fact, I used to sleep under the pool table, for back in those days that was considered normal and not out of the ordinary. So I had the luxury of watching my family and a bunch of drunk people have a grand ole time while I excitedly sat at the bar drinking Shirley Temples daydreaming of when it would be my turn to partake in the festivities (uh, that never happened for my mom sold the bar when I was 16). Oh well, guess it just wasn�t meant to be.
So, after writing all this for what seems like an eternity, I�m finally realizing that this background information might not be so important and that I�m just babbling on for nothing. I don�t know � maybe I am, maybe I�m not, or maybe I just had this strange and uncontrollable urge to get it all out. It does feel good to see first hand in print the story of my life. It�s really cathartic, I must say. And even if you�ve stopped reading a long time ago, that�s ok, but if you�re still with me � thank you.
Ok, back to the whole reason why I�m writing this post on Adult Sibling Interaction. So now my family from 7th grade to now is: mommy, and my two siblings. Now remember, my mommy is really my step-grandmother and my sister and brother are her two kids and there is a 20-something age difference between my siblings and a 40+ age difference between my mom and I. Oh yeah, and don�t forget that I have no connection or relationship with any of my �blood� relatives � my mom did a great job in sheltering me and protecting me from these horrible and evil people who were no good for me.
Well, inevitably I grew up and am now 32. My mom passed away last August from pancreatic cancer at 72 � a very young, vibrant, active and outstanding 72 year old. It all happened so fast and it was extremely traumatic both emotionally and physically, but I digress. I think it�s safe to say that I have a slightly unique and extraordinary familial background and with all of this said, it�s not hard to believe that some problems might have arisen at one point or another. For example, my sister and brother are both alcoholics, but of course, two very different types of alcoholics. My sister was a bartender and her drinking gradually got worse over time until it was totally out of control right before mommy passed. My brother on the other hand, just got smashed every night and when I say every night, I mean every night (all 7 days).
I�m almost done, I promise. Due to the high level of stress, frustration, anger, sadness, confusion, depression and grief during this time, oh, and the massive amounts of alcohol consumed by both my sister and brother, things got pretty ugly between them. Me being the youngest and always feeling like the one who doesn�t belong, can�t relate and doesn�t get any of this, has this overpowering, annoying and idiotic notion that I need to become miss problem solver of the universe and be able to put my sister and brother back together again.
Silly me, but I assumed that when mommy passed that we would all grow closer and bond and be a halfway decent and semi-functioning �normal� family. WRONG. What was I thinking? I should have known that growing even further apart would be the next logical step to take for a grieving family who just lost their mother. Duh! What am I crazy? Why would I ever think that of all times for a family to pull together, especially when there are only three members left it would be now?
So this is my dilemma: my brother and sister just left from a visit. They spent two weeks with me and my husband and we spent part of our trip in Las Vegas which was really great, except for the part where I opened my big mouth the first night we got there in hopes of discussing our current family situation (this was the first time seeing them since mommy�s passing). The problem with my brother is that he is a 52 year old bachelor who has been living alone for like 20 years. My sister is divorced and is dating this really nice guy, but unfortunately he has an IQ of 12, has OCD, is autistic and is driving us all nuts. My sister was married twice before (long stories, imagine that) and in all her wisdom has chosen this person as her new and everlasting love (Good news: she states she will never ever marry again � thank God for small miracles). We have all tried discussing this troubling matter but to no avail (including my mother before she passed who was by far his least greatest fan). Well, since my mom is gone, and I�m 3,000 miles away from both my brother and sister (they live in the same state and only about � hour from each other), it was natural for my sister to assume they would be spending the proceeding holidays together. Think again. My brother actually told her that he will never ever spend another holiday with her again and that she is not welcome at his home because he prefers his solitude and would rather be alone. He refuses to meet her for lunch, dinner, coffee, cake, bread crumb, nothing. He only leaves his house to go to work, and to pick up his dinner which he brings home to eat alone, every night.
Yet, he came with them to visit us here � should I have given him a gold medal or some kind of award? I love my brother and sister to death, please don�t misunderstand me, I�m just so frustrated with them and their�.I can�t even think of a suitable adjective to describe their behavior, except for maybe demented?
I was so disappointed and I just feel so empty and defeated. Am I asking too much, am I being unreasonable? I feel so lost and confused and like I�m the crazy one. One word sums it all up for the way I feel: alone.
Is there any hope for us � will we ever be a family? I don�t want the Brady Bunch or the Leave it to Beavers, I�m sorry, I don�t know how to explain what I want or am looking for. I hope I didn�t waste any of your time reading this � I couldn�t keep it bottled up anymore.
I know what you are all thinking, geez, hope this woman has had some kind of counseling or intense therapy. Well, I hate to admit it, but I�ve never talked to anyone about any of this, except my husband of course and a few close friends, but they can�t relate and don�t know how to help, but that�s ok. I know what I need to do, I�m just scared and feel like it�s hopeless, so why bother. My immense fear and anxiety issues always seem to get in the way of seeking professional help. I am determined to address and overcome these hang-ups of mine and hopefully with your support gain the confidence I need to accomplish this feat. Thank you for your time and patience and for just reading. I know there are millions of people whose problems are a lot worse than mine. I am one of the lucky ones for I was fortunate enough to have grandparents who loved me enough to raise me, that I was spared contracting AIDS and that I at least have my brother and sister and a wonderful husband who love me dearly, but sometimes that�s not enough.
