Brotherly Love: The rant with a dash of angst

I have two brothers. Both older than me. One is in his mid 40’s the other is 40.

The younger, Chris, lives in sunny Worthing (thats a little town next to Brighton on the south coast of UK) and although he lived at my mum and dads until he was 18-21ish, he has lived there for many years and is happily married to Greta and they have 4 lovely puddytats. I see him maybe twice a year, three times if I’m lucky. He likes watching TV, Grand Prix and eating. When he does come to Liverpool he tends to spend a few days, comes to my house, looks at my film and software collection, moans (thats a family trait I’m afraid), plays with the cats, drinks some tea, chats rubbish, bites his nails then goes home. Once, maybe twice a year I will go down to Worthing, spend a week, drink his pop, play with his cats, watch some of his films, discuss cinema and bitch about Carl.

The older, Carl, lives about 7 miles away, I tend to see more of him than I do Chris, mainly to due to his proximity but mostly if he happens to be at my mum and dads the same time as me though occasionally I’ll go round to his house. Carl, although quite close to Chris due to their ages, will not go to Worthing to visit Chris and so tends to see less of Chris than I do. Also Carl holds no care for Chris’s wife Greta, though not a huge issue you can tell there is no love lost. Carl also has an aversion to visit me. In the year and a half I have lived in my new house he has paid me 3 visits. Once to have a nose, once to ask a favour and once to drop something off yet In the past 10 years I have been to his house on many countless occasions.

During my session with my councellor this morning we discussed some family issues and what came to light was how being the youngest I would get blamed for most things that went wrong. (I was a toddler when my brothers were in their adolesense).

For example.

I am in a room with a glass plate. The glass plate cracks through no discernable means. I would get the blame.


Someone breaks something, I go into the room the breakage is discovered. I get the blame

Thats a very simplistic way of describing it but you get the idea. This hangs over to my adult life in that I am too scared, if I am to be honest with you, to be in the same room as Charlotte, my niece, for fear of her breaking or her spontaneously catching some disease, I fear I would get the blame. I know that if I am to be the mad uncle I want to be to Charlotte I need to get over this irrarionallity but as Clair says to me, although I am no longer the youngest member of the family I’m still a child in most of my families eyes (despite being 30 and having had a heart attack).

This got me thinking again about how close some of my friends are with their siblings and yet how far away I am with mine…..

Guy, my bezzie mate evarrrrrr, also has two siblings. Guy is close to both his older brother, John, and his older sister, Lisa, though this closeness probably was created when Guys dad died in 1984. Guy goes to the pub with John on a regular basis, also takes him to Oulton Park (a motor racing track near by) talk about cars and stuff and helps him out financially.

Vee, also has a close bond with her family, the other week when Vee graduated, her sister Sam came and they where doing girly hugging and bonding things.

Clair, has two sisters, all younger than her, which she calls on sometimes a daily basis. They visit each other and go out on the piss together on occasions.

I, however, have never had that. I have yearned for that closeness. I used to try and get Carl to come to the pub with me. But he wouldnt. Which is fair enough if thats not his cup of tea but never has he asked me to join him in a social activity. I have looked upon my friends with their brothers and sisters and felt the nasty sting of jealousy. Is that wrong of me? Should I be thankful for my lot? What can I do to break the “Stegzys still the baby” feeling in the family? Kill some frogs?? Write on the wall in crayon “Iyam knot a baybee en ee moor”??? Hit them all with sticks???? Feed them marmite?!?!!!?!?!?!?


Author: stegzy

Once, long ago, I wrote frequently on Livejournal. I then moved to Blogspot, where I discovered that blogging requires an audience. So I moved back to LJ. Then over to Dreamwidth, back to LJ, up the road of self hosting with Muckybadger before giving up entirely and moving over to Wordpress. It was at that moment I decided I would spread my compostual nonsense simultaneously across the blogosphere like some rancid margarine. And so here I am. I am a badger. But then I'm not really a badger. I am a human. With badger like tendencies. I am a writer, a film producer and a social commentator. I am available for Breakfast TV shows, documentaries and chats in the pub with journalists where I am more than qualified enough to talk confidently about absolute shite and bollocks.

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