- 3 years ago
Okay, so big load of drama happened yesterday in my family, but I’ll give a little bit of a background first. Sorry, this is pretty long, but please, someone read and give me your honest opinion. I am a regular bee but have created a new user name for confidentiality.
My little brother, we’ll call him *Allen, was always the sweetest but most hyperactive boy. Even at a young age he always defied the rules and never knew when to stop. Instead of teaching him out to be a man, my dad always treated him as an object. If he disobeyed (which was often), my dad would yell at him and ground him. Growing up I hardly ever remember my dad giving him much direction. Allen is also incredibly brilliant, handsome, athletic, and super funny. Never had any trouble finding the prettiest girlfriend around. We come from a small town and a well-rounded family, other than Dad not paying attention. Mom is amazing and always loved us all equally.
Fast forward to when Allen was 16 years of age, my parents had a nasty divorce and something in my brother changed. He started drinking a lot and selling prescription pills. Sometime within the next few years through college, he started actually doing the drugs– his vice was burning oxycotton and smoking it, but he really did anything he could get his hands on– heroin, meth, acid, cocaine, etc etc. For the first few years, he claims he did it “socially” because they were “fun”. About two years ago, we all realized he was a true addict. He got fired from two jobs, never had any money, and when he needed money either stole it from my mom or manipulated both her and/or I into giving him some. We always gave in, even though we knew we were enabling him. Anyone who has been in this situation knows how hard it is to try not to “help” an addict out. They make threats of running away and eventually when that doesn’t work, threats of suicide.
About a year ago he got caught with a fake prescription at a pharmacy. A warrant was out for his arrest, and he was charged with a felony. He decided to clean his act up, and for 4 months he truly did. He went cold turkey and quit the drugs completely. He held a decent job, was ALWAYS happy (which we weren’t used to seeing), let mom help him with his finances, etc etc. After those 4 months, as most addicts do, Allen relapsed, and it has been a nightmare since. Although he got his felony worked out, he was put on probation for two years and was given strict rules about not doing drugs, not being around alcohol, and not being within so many yards of a firearm. Went sent him to a week-long detox knowing he needed rehab. Of course dad thinks this weeklong bullshit was good enough and that Allen would be perfectly fine. Dad is so clueless. He claims over and over that since this past July, he has not used a drug once. We all know that’s bullshit because it is not hard to figure out when a person is on drugs. He’s stolen hundreds of more dollars with nothing to show for it. Not even his car payment, which the bank recently told him if he didn’t make a payment this month, they were coming to get his car.
Fast forward to last week. I noticed that all of my cash and all but two of my Xanax were missing from my purse (which was INCREDIBLY hidden in my mom’s closet). I called him out on it, but of course he denied it. One thing about addicts is they are pathological liars. In the meantime, Allen pawned off his iphone 5 and his flat screen TV for money. Claims it was for car payment, but who knows where it really went. Yesterday morning, I also noticed my credit card (actually my mom’s credit card- I am an authorized user on her account in case of emergency) was missing, so I told mom she better go online and look on her bank statement to see if she had any fraudulent charges. Sure enough, there were over $300 worth of charges on her credit card that were not hers. Once she saw that, she went into her room to find that her hand gun and its magazine were both missing. It’s hard to explain the hiding spot, but in order for Allen to have found it, he must have been desparate. Either to kill himself or sell it, we weren’t sure. Mom calls the police and files a report.
Mom and I were sitting in her living room chatting, worrying about Allen. We hear the garage door open, and I start to freak because I know he is probably armed and not in the right state of mind. Because of that, I tell mom “you CANNOT probe him with questions right now, we have to figure out a way to go about this” (Allen throws VERY violent temper tantrums). She responds with “I have to”. Allen comes in, lays on the couch, mom calls him out on both gun and credit card. He admits to taking the gun, but won’t reveal its location. This goes on for several minutes. Finally, he gets up, grabs his keys, says he’s leaving, and goes to open the garage door. I stand in front of the driver’s side door trying to get him to stay. Mom is on the other side of the car doing the same thing. He oddly repeated to me “trust me, trust me”, and kind of shoves me out of the way of the door. He yells at my mom to “shut up”. Mom goes to the back of the car and says she’s not moving until he talks. I’m right in front the front window of his car at this point. Then, the drama insues…
Allen opens the driver’s side door and reaches over into the glove box. I see him grab the gun and load the magazine in. At this point, my mind is going nuts. I back up to the door leading from the laundry room to the garage, still watching. I’m thinking he’s either going to shoot himself right in front of us, or shoot all three of us. He slowly and methodically turns towards my mom and points the gun straight at her. She gasps and freezes. I scream at him “Allen, please don’t!”. He turns towards me (gun still pointing at mom), doesn’t say a word. I jet, as fast I possibly can. I run thru the kitchen and to the back door. It seems awful that I left my mom there. I had no idea what to do. In my mind, I thought it was best of at least one of us were to call 911. I was terrified that if I called the cops right in front of him, one or all of us would end up dead. I run through the back yard listening for noises- gun shots, Allen running in the grass towards me, etc. I get to the next street over and see that he is not following me. Hands shaking, I call 911 in a frantic, and run into a neighbor’s house.
About 7 police cars show up to mom’s house, one comes to the house that I’m in. Waiting for about 15 minutes total, I knew nothing on mom or Allen. The police were supposedly at the door with no answer, I’m worried that they’re both dead. Eventually I get a text from my mom, asking where I am. I call her, tell her where and that she needed to go to the front door to talk to the officers. She seems annoyed that I call 911. WTF?
I go back to mom’s house with the officer. Mom has told the police that Allen was “handing” her the gun. I have no idea if she has convinced herself of this or is taking up for Allen. Either way, it’s bullshit (come to find out later, mom neither saw or heard Allen loading the mag into the gun. Had she known, she would have understood my 911 call). Allen is in the back of the police car in handcuffs, and I am devastated. It is so hard to see your little brother in that situation. Because of mom’s version of the story, they pretty much were saying I saw something that I really didn’t. That my mind was in such an intense state of fear that I thought he was going to shoot her. However, they understood. They also at the time weren’t taking Allen to jail. They were taking him to a mental ward and placing him on EOD. They said a minimum of three days. WTF? This kid has a gun with the purpose of not doing any good with it. Yes, he desperately needs help, but you’re not taking him to jail for stealing a gun that he legally could not have in his possession?
We get a call later from the police saying they’re taking him to jail. They found his old record and the county where he was caught wanted him locked up. Mom is confused because she had already mentioned that to the police earlier. A new warrant was issued a few days ago on the same pharmacy prescription case because he hadn’t paid his court or probation costs since October. Mom had given him over $300 to catch up for November, December and January. He either pretended to pay it, or the people at the court pocketed it. At this point, we’re still not sure and more than likely will never know what really happened w/ the money.
I feel horrible bees, but I also feel like I did the right thing. NO ONE who is just handing over a gun does it in that manner. Why did he load it? Why did he point the barrel towards mom? Why did he hold it there when he saw how afraid she and I both were? I have no idea why he did it that way. He was either a) going to shoot one or all of us and changed his mind at the last second or b) did it scare her. I’m also completely confused as to why he admitted to stealing the gun but never admits to stealing anything else. Was this a cry for help?
It makes me physically ill to imagine him in prison. He hated his life so much before and begged us to let him end it, but he’s really going to hate life now. He’s also not the type of person to use this as a wake-up call. He sees these things as happening to him just because of the mere fact that he exists- he claims he’s not meant to be here. It’s the saddest thing in the world, and our whole family has been absolutely devastated and heartbroken for years now. I have been crying off and on all morning at work. It’s all I can think about.
Please, if you’re going to comment with how Allen is a “worthless junkie”, don’t comment at all. His addiction is not the only part of him, and as a human being he has value. In the past I would have probably thought he was a worthless junkie too, but this whole experience has completely opened my eyes.
Thanks for reading, Bees.