8:00 AM Tuesday, October 26, 2004
I typed a 2-page letter using 8.5" x 13" paper and 10.5 Century Gothic font style... to my brother. Because we had a fight. Because he was being a jerk. Because he was picking on my sister (his sister too, yes.. ahehe). Because he was overreacting to Pyro's illness. How did I deduce that he was overreacting? Well, after repatedly telling him the child had tigdas over the phone and thru sms, he came home upset that we didn't call him from the pedia's office (not Pyro's since-birth pedia), an instruction I wasn't aware of, and started verbally abusing my sister... and then climbed the stairs with a, "Mamamatay na lang ang anak ko, hindi ko pa alam" (rough translation: My child is going to die and I don't even know it... basically implying that we're taking away his right as father to know what's happening to his child... oh, actually, he said that too)
Having been someone who doesn't back down when someone is being unreasonable, and in this case, having texted him twice already after getting back from the pedia, and honestly feeling he's overreacting because the child who's sick is actually already playing and babbling "Wow" over and over (and wasn't exactly the first baby to ever get sick... and having our Mother there who saw all of us suffer from the same viral disease). I told him he WAS overreacting.
I think there were at least 3 times he almost really hit me. Really close calls as he was looming in front of me from where am sitting... even having the audacity to sort of tell me that one more word from me and he'd really hit me... only stopped by my sister (who was carrying Pyro)and my Mom... all of which, of course, made me madder...
Family quarrels would often seem petty to the outside world. The dynamics governing each relationship however is usually so complicated and layered and sometimes so full of hidden agendas.
I know that aside from believing he's disrespectful and inconsiderate and ungrateful to my sister and cousin, who have been generally in-charge of taking care of Pyro... I also find it distasteful that he is displacing his weaknesses and fears to his son.
And I can only guess what issues he has with me... although i was really surprised why he'd suddenly keep saying that all I want is money... as in, where did that come from? Heck, he even threw the entire contents of his wallet at me. Sadly, it wasn't enough to buy myself a new cellphone. And even sadder, my Mom got the money back. Anyway, he's warped, and I worry for my nephew.
But the thing that hurt me the most and has really been exhausting me is the fact that whenever I disapprove of what my brother does (and it's kinda hard to turn a blind eye to them when we're living in the same house, and we're the ones being inconvenienced), I just hate my Mother all the more. Last night, I lashed out at my Mom again... telling her that she was the one who raised such an ungrateful, irresponsible jerk! (I wanted to call him a sonofab!tch... but my Mom, with all her equally-warped notions of raising a son, isn't a b!tch)
Of course, Mom reminded me that she raised all of us. And then i reminded her that I have made infinitely better choices than the son she spoiled. I was even gearing to remind her too that I have yet to send her to the hospital... something my wonderful brother did without remorse... and without cbaracter-improvement. But my brother came back down and we fought some more.
Thus, the long letter to him. A letter not apologizing for anything, but explaining what really happened, and demanding from him some appreciation and gratefulness, not for me, but for my sister and cousin who were more hands-on with Pyro. A letter that also warned him that I will not tolerate any further disrespect and abuse of the two. A letter that also told him that eventhough Pyro is kin, he SHOULD be grateful (how does one translate "tumanaw ng utang na loob" anyway? my jerk of a brother explicitly even stated that he need not do any such thing by virtue of Pyro being our nephew).
My chest still feels heavy... burdened. After having written the letter, and this, and after crying my brains out till past 2... I am not yet at peace with what happened. And i think it's really because i'm tired of being angry with my parents... and yet, the child or human in me still cannot understand why they still continue enabling their son to be the jerk he is...
And at the back part of my mind, I worry... that I might react to all this by being too hard on my future son/s.
*~*
I also know I should watch it, lest my brother really lose control and hit me. And of course, at some remote recess of my brain, there is fear that he might deform my face or something. But seeing that I also know I should watch it, because sometimes hate for him feels just so raw, I know i could drive a knife into him in the heat of A moment (this last sentence suddenly reminds me of a parents-reading-my-diary episode, where they tried making me feel guilty for wishing them dead... back when I found them hateful as a teen... and people might even get shocked at the intensity of the hate... but what the heck).
Still, my greater fear and worry is... IF my brother and I have a go at each other... what will my parents do?
*~*
Was browsing a medical book last night, reading on Roseola and taking comfort in the fact that it isn't Measles... and wondering if I had German measles already, and thinking I should get it now lest I get it when am pregnant someday... yada, yada, yada... yes, generally getting paranoid...
Then my sister comments... that when she's depressed and feeling bad, she just goes through that book of medical problems and gets cured... for she cannot help but feel lucky and blessed that she didn't have any of those diseases... and no one in the family is really sick...