half-blood brothers ·
22 July 09

I am not the best brother in the world. Actually, I am not the best half-brother in the world would be more accurate. When I was told my mother would marry again, it didn’t occur to me at the age of 13/14 that another kid would be on the cards. I don’t particularly relish the thought of my mother and step-dad going at it. Shit I don’t think you want to have that image in your head either. Sorry.

To be completely honest, I don’t remember him as a baby, or remember him in his years as an infant. I was never close to him, or paid much attention to him. That’s sort of changed now that he’s growing up. My most recent memories of him are during his final year at Primary School. My memory is very poor anyway, but I’ve tried to search for earlier memories and I can’t recall any.

When I was drinking heavily, and becoming an angst-ridden teenager smoking dope and shit, I don’t even remember him. Maybe I was too fucked up to even notice, and maybe the reason I don’t remember anything is perhaps because I was so high on drugs and alcohol that those years have become a blur when it comes to him. He was born in 1996, so I know that he was born just prior to my “demon” days, and was around during those dark days following.

So as I said, my most recent memories of him was during his final year of Primary School, because I used to pick him up for school when my mother and step-father woudl be out. I’d bring him home from school, and buy food on the way. This was close to when I was in my second or third year of treatment and therapy I think. If I remember correctly, I had switched medication to Risperidone, and was suffering from the side effects of the medication, one of which was stiffness of the body.

It was murder trying to pick him up from school, because I would be in so much pain as moving would be so difficult. It was like being forced to drown, and you trying to push up out of the water to breathe. It was a fucking nightmare, and then later on they prescribed me some meds for the side effects.

Anyway, I digress. The point I was failing to make was that the past two or three years is the only time I’ve noticed him. It was a personal decision not to get involved with the family. But, as he’s gotten older, he’s noticed me too, and so developed a strange brotherly relationship.

Now I think about it, I do have some memories of buying him things like teddy bears, toys and other crap, in an effort to make some link with him. To others, and to myself, I saw him as what he was: my half-brother. I refer to him as my half-brother, and people jump on me to ask why don’t I just call him my brother? In the past year or so, I’ve gotten tired of saying half-brother, perhaps it’s because I’m becoming a lot lazier in my older age, but calling him my brother now seems to be the easiest thing to do. Not having to explain myself is a burden lifted.

Over this period, I have let him watch movies, play games, use the PC and allowed the freedom to do things that other kids do too. He’s spent time with me to do his homework too, and I’ve been involved, if not interested, in his performance at school. I even attended a parent’s evening thing. I won’t get in to that, as it’s not relevant, and really quite uninteresting. Not to say this blog is interesting, but it’s better than freezing your nuts off in the North Pole while wearing nothing but a fig leaf.

So he’s finally started to ask questions, about why I was born in Scotland, what his dad was like when I was a kid, why we used to live in Northern England, when we moved to London, and why I have a different surname to everyone else in the family. I’m at a loss to finding the right way to explain this shit to him. Do I tell him that we’re not full, blood brothers? Do I tell him the truth about not having the same dad? I think if I was to tell him the truth he would talk to his mother and father, and then that would get back to me, probably, as to why I told him the truth and not lie.

Lying would be the easiest thing to do, until he’s old enough to figure out the rest of the puzzle. I think that the older he gets, the more questions he will obviously have for me, but more so that he will be able to determine the truth on his own from obvious observations. I don’t want to rock the boat in this family, I want them to do themselves, whereas I want to stay on the outside and not get involved in this sort of bullshit. Would he think less of me? I’ve wondered that, and although I wouldn’t have given a shit may be 2 or 3 years ago, I kind of do give a shit now.

I wouldn’t say I completely care about him, and I still see him as my half brother, but I do care somewhat that he doesn’t come to harm, or feels insecure. I don’t think telling him now would really be the best thing to do. Although I started off saying that lying would be the best thing to do, I haven’t actually lied to him. I’ve even told him that’s he not my brother, and that I don’t care about him, but it’s all done in jest and it makes him laugh because he thinks I’m being stupid on purpose. Does that make sense?

In any case, I just needed to get that load off my mind as I’ve been thinking about what to do for the past two weeks, since his questions have been coming up. I guess I’ll just wait and see what happens.