When Life is Unexpected...Isn't it Always?

My last post mentioned my brother, and how I was sure he wouldn't ruin Thanksgiving this year.  I'm happy to report that he did not.  In fact, he didn't show up at all...until Saturday.  I was quite shocked though when he informed me that he was here to apologize for his past behavior.  He went on to tell my husband and I that he is being seen by a therapist, is in recovery (I guess living on the streets finally sunk in as his "rock bottom") and is in the process of getting on medication.  He even admitted that "I'll never succeed at anything in life unless I am willing to admit that I have a mental illness I need help taking care of", color me speechless!

I have told him that I would always be there for him, if he ever got to the point where he was willing to admit he was sick AND get the help he needs; and I'm here.  However, he left that night - forgot his cell phone - and I haven't heard from him since.

Do I fret?  Shall I worry?  No, my life cannot be about him and his disease.  I have a husband and three children to take care of, they need me more than he does.

So I go on...living life and dealing with the daily unexpected happenings, living the best I can and being the best that I can be.

Ho hum, right? ;)

Final note: I was at 45,000 words on Friday (regarding my NaNoWriMo book) and I didn't write Saturday; but when I went to "finish" on Sunday - I realized that about 20,000 words of that belong in another book.  So I deleted it.

I'm back up to 31,000 and I'm going to be writing like a maniac to finish by the 30th; but I can do whatever I set my mind to accomplish...right?  Tell me I'm right...PLEASE?

Mental Illness Sucks Ass

It has been quite an eventful last 24 hours.  I've joined the Third Writers' Platform-Building Campaign, I've scheduled appointments, I've done the grocery shopping, I've had lunch and dinner with friends and in-laws, Oh! - and I've dealt with my brother threatening to kill my husband and just generally losing his mind...again.

Bi-polar/schizophrenic with psychotic tendencies...that is his official diagnosis; but he refuses to admit that there is anything wrong with him.  SO, I live my life loving him and wanting a better life for him; constantly bringing him back into the fold for one more chance (when he can pass for sane, usually).  EVERY time I do this, he screws me over and goes crazy again.

Logically I understand that he has a mental illness that is not under control and so I cannot really blame him; can I?  But I want to!  I want to rail and rant at him!  I want to scream "GET SOME FUCKING HELP!"  Is there really any point?

He is unemployed, he has a record, and he sleeps in parks.  It makes me so sad when I think about how I left him with my mother to go away to school.  I wanted out so badly, I didn't even consider what I was abandoning.  She did not want to deal with the responsibility of raising another child, she sure as hell doesn't want to deal with his mental illness now. God, I feel so shitty right now...

Through all of this, I have my mother here...living comfortably with me - off of my husbands sweat and hard work.  I have so many issues with her, that can be a book in and of itself...