I am a Zebra

I am a Zebra among Horses - I love my brother and I will always love him. He was broken, but we all are in our own ways. But he was broken more than I ever knew. I truly miss him but the more I find out the more I realize how little I actually KNEW him. In some ways it’s scary knowing what he kept buried so deep and in other ways it’s fascinating. He must have been so exhausted keeping all of those pieces of himself hidden from me. And yet it’s so frustrating knowing that if he would have trusted me enough to show me, I could have taken those pieces and created the masterpiece he never figured out how to put together. Instead I am the one left to pick up all of his chaotic, filthy, broken pieces one by one. He knew I would be the one to do it because I’m always the one to do it. My sister is right, I am a “fixer” - it’s my nature and I choose not to fight it. But he knew that too. He knew how angry I would be with the mess he left me. He knew I’d be beyond angry - I’d be really f*cking livid. And I am. My brother was ambitious, creative, talented, funny, kind, thoughtful and a hard worker. But he was not great at planning long term, or even considering the details. “I’ll figure it out” was his motto that continuously held him back. My grief for my brother is complicated. Most days I’m just overwhelmed by the mess he left me to clean up. It took my sister and I a solid 4 full days to clean out the house enough to not have to wear mask. And I spent another few days cleaning to bring it to an acceptable level. And now I have to start to tackle outside. This is what it can look like when someone who struggles with their mental health is a creative, ambitious hard worker with no direction. There is so much “stuff” everywhere. He was like the little mermaid with his “treasures”. I am mentally and physically exhausted every day. Most days I don’t even have the mental capacity to respond to anyone or attempt to act normal. Some days I feel bad for being so angry at him and not being more sad or empathetic. Some days I think he did this intentionally because he knew the anger would keep me going. Other days I remember how broken he was and how badly his heart must have ached, how lonely he must have been and how defeated he must have felt. My heart breaks for him every day and I would have given anything for him to see the masterpiece I knew he had in himself. My grief is complicated. I don’t want to talk about it, it doesn’t help me.

I sincerely appreciate all the amazing people who have offered to help but I don’t even know what to ask for help with. My patience runs too short these days so on top of the Chris crap, Ben is….an almost 7 year old boy (I shouldn’t need to explain the amount of patience this child requires from me on a daily basis) and our 15 year old niece that I filter my true thoughts and feelings as we attempt to help her navigate her grief and provide her with an opportunity to grow and thrive in spite of the shitty hand that she was dealt.

I’m writing this social novel to say Thank You to such an incredible community that I have around me. You will never know how much your love and support means to me and how you help me stay sane. Even though I still have a lot to get through I wanted to provide some insight as to where my head and heart are at and why I’m pretty radio silent other than posting general updates. Someday I won’t be in such a shitty mood all of the time and I’ll respond in a slightly more timely manner than I do now. But until then I appreciate your patience and love.