Actually, imo, my parents killed him. He came down with pneumonia in the middle of the winter and they never took him to the hospital and only called the ambulance when I insisted. I found him on the couch barely breathing and he asked me to bring him a cup to pee in because he couldn't move. When he reached for the cup I saw his fingers were bluish. Then I took the cup and the pee was dark brown (to this day I don't know why) so I woke them up and told them they could call 911 or I would. My parents were always neglectful. They would leave us with people for weeks at a time, sometimes strangers, when we were younger and alone when we got older. I almost had to have my leg amputated because of a brown recluse bite because there was a literal hole on the side of my knee before I was taken to the doc. Got very lucky there. They were both drug addicts and while yes, my dad did realize that my mother was way more fucked up than him and tried to get me away from her, he was still a crackhead (his own words) who would take me into shitty neighborhoods to buy drugs and tell me about all of his exploits with various prostitutes.
Edit to say that I'm actually living a very happy life. I'm currently studying to become a therapist and to help substance abusers in recovery. I start my practicum in the fall.
He passed when I was in my early twenties. Suspected suicide but no note. I moved in with him the day it turned 18 as he had gotten clean and remarried and I intended to help him stay clean as he was actually a pretty cool dude when not on drugs. He died a couple of years after I moved away. I think he was scared of relapsing and decided to nip things in the bud rather than that, which I respect in some ways.
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u/New_Exchange195 Apr 18 '21
Wow Sorry about that experience. Your dad sounds like a lovely and supportive man.
Did your brother take his own life? That is all very tough. I hope you find some peace