Tick, Tick, Ticking...

Every once in a while, I watch the show Intervention which follows the life of a drug addict ultimately setting them up for an intervention from their family at the end and hopefully getting them into treatment (which never works).  With all that we've been through with my brother, the show usually sets me off and I'm not sure why I put myself through it.  Perhaps I'm looking for something to tell my Dad to get him to understand the process... perhaps I'm looking to see that someone else's family member was able to pull themselves out of it... or perhaps I'm looking for the addict to show some respect or remorse for what they've put the family through and in turn, live vicariously through them since I have never seen that from my brother.

Coincidentally, while I was watching that (and had just gotten off the phone with one of my brother's friends who, if you recall, stole a check from his sister, forged it and they got my Dad to cash it, only for it to bounce and we still haven't seen the money, and I have to file charges today), there was a knock on the door.  I looked outside and, in a split second, recognized the car from the last time I saw my brother... the guy was supposedly just driving by and picked him up while he was walking here when he wanted a ride to a shelter (i.e. he ultimately wanted money).  After I came back down to take him, he said that guy was going to take him.  I remember thinking that it must have been one of his friends who brought him here thinking he was going to score money and they could go get some drugs, like what's happened so many times before.  Anyway, this guy comes to the door with his son, a Bible in-hand and bearing a cross and wanted to talk to us about my brother, to get a better understanding.  Immediately, I could feel my blood pressure rise, especially as he didn't seem to have a purpose other than to see how God could help who, if you subscribe to that line of thinking, already 'helped' out quite a bit in my brother's situation.  All of the work that I had done to achieve a sense of peace was quickly unraveling as my poor Dad, confused as to who this person was and what he wanted (thinking that the rehab place sent him at ten o'clock at night to gain understanding), was standing there dredging up the past, becoming frustrated and angry himself, and I enraged as it went on.  Were it not for him bringing his 4 year old with him, I would have thrown him out earlier followed by a few explicatives.  To make matters worse, he said that, while in his car, my brother admitted that there was nothing else that my Dad and I could do to help him and that he was remorseful for all that he had done.  Bullshit.  My brother was conniving his next move.  I've seen it all before and it's nice that he can tell a total stranger that in a 10 minute car ride, but can't say that to us unless he wants something.

While I couldn't really come up with the guy's reason for being here (and why you'd bring your small child into a possible volitile situation that you know nothing about), if he was here just to try to help, then it's nice to see.  But despite my disbelief in religion, who do you think you are poking your nose in a situation where your only insight has been that of a tweaked user who will lie and say anything to get what he wants?  On top of that, a Bible and cross and twenty-some years of life doesn't make you an expert in family counseling or drug rehabilitation... certainly if 4 times in jail and 7 times in rehab hasn't been able to do it, this kid (who couldn't have been more than 30) isn't going to be able to say a few 'hail Mary's' and fix everything. 

Exciting my Dad or offering him some false hope isn't therapeutic.  And while my Dad was quick to open up, being confused as to why the guy was here to begin with, I don't think that was the avenue to explore finding more peace... in fact, it did just the opposite. 

This is how my brother, even held up in a rehab facility, can bring a shit-storm of anguish upon us.