Every time I’m back East, I end up spending a ton of time reflecting and overthinking. John and I often split up to spend time with our respective families, so with all that alone travel, I just climb around inside my own head.

The latest realization I had occurred on Christmas Day. In the morning, the subject of my brother came up. He had emailed my parents with some investment advice. Since he teaches college students, he reads a lot of newspapers to tie current events into his lessons. He seems to have a better grasp of world news these days, but the thing is, he is also very susceptible to cult thinking. I don’t want to go into all of it now, but in the past he had me attend some “investment club” program. John and I attended the seminar and to us, it reeked of pyramid scheme scam. Full-on propaganda about “deserving the good life” with lots of images of ridiculous wealth. Long story short, his latest email encouraged my father to consider some kind of investment in silver. Dad was not interested and drafted a whole lengthy explanation that I then was asked to edit and type. I started getting so angry about it: of course, this came on the heels of multiple annoying emails I received from J in the past several months, urging me to join his Buddhist cult and meet with his “master” who would solve all my woes. Really? How’s he gonna solve my problem of YOU?? Anyway, my mom said something about how her relationship with my brother is like my relationship with Remy. Uh, no. So I shot back that Remy is nothing like J. Nothing. I could feel my blood boiling, because immediately I thought of all his bullshit and selfish actions and the decades of pain. Who does he think he is? He’s the biggest money pit, and he has investment suggestions??? Um maybe if my parents stopped supporting his sorry ass, they would save more money than what they’d supposedly earn on his recommended investment. Anyway, just as my mind raced off ready to shoot off a cascade of arguments, my dad said “Don’t say mean things to your mother. Your words are hurtful.” So I paused. What the hell? I was only saying the truth. Why should that be censored? Plus, why is it ok for her to make her statements, but I’m supposed to stay silent when I disagree? Bullshit. I didn’t see anything wrong with how I was about to respond and what I was about to say… But I stopped.

You see, the day before, my parents had bickered in the car about their financial success and where credit was due. My mother said she was tired of everyone crediting my dad for everything, and all that she was credited with was her failure in parenting. That car ride I had a separate realization about a woman’s worth, but I’ll discuss that later. For whatever reason, I just kept quiet as they argued back and forth. The thing is, I do think my mother (and father) failed in how she parents my brother. I do think she lacks independence, resourcefulness, and gumption. I do think she’s not as ambitious… to me, these are facts. So why can this not be stated? Are we now in that era where no kids are losers and everyone’s a winner? Where no one has “failed” a class and everyone is passing with flying colors? Come on.

Whatever. Later that night, we went to John’s sister’s house. My mom-in-law received a box of chocolates and proceeded to keep asking people if they wanted some. Had my parents nagged at all about something similar, I would have told them to stop in a very angry and impatient manner. Like Jesus, stop nagging. You asked once, and everyone said no. Leave it alone. But John’s brother just said, “Mom, everyone is very full now from dinner. Maybe when we are ready for dessert, you can set the chocolates out with the cakes and pies.” Done. And handled with so much more grace and tact. When we got home that night, I felt so sad for my parents. To have to deal with a daughter who gets so frustrated and impatient and angry with them so often. Why do I unleash such attitude with them? I felt so ashamed and disappointed. I am a mean person. What is wrong with me? So you see? I have these internal conflicts where sometimes I stand by my behavior and my thoughts. Other times, I see how they are so very flawed.

Yes, I blame my parents for my brother’s behavior. He is to blame also, but they exacerbate what he gets away with. Maybe the focus shouldn’t even be on who’s to blame. I guess, I just like to know WHY things are the way they are. The bottom line is that I disagree with the way they parent. But it’s their choice, so why do I need to yell or criticize? I don’t know. It’s a compulsion. It’s like watching someone doing something super self destructive. How do you calmly stand by and let them continue?? And the words I have for my brother… I am just waiting for him to talk to me in person, and then I seriously have an entire arsenal of acid.

I dunno. I feel like I have been coining arguments and crafting debates my entire life. It’s part of my overthinking mind. Stuff has to make sense and has to be consistent. Why is it mean or wrong to point these observations out, especially when someone is manipulating my parents? And yet I think of John’s brother. He kept his cool, made a statement, and got the job done without belittling. Sure, different situations, different intensities, but maybe I should work on this softer style for my parents. Maybe.

As for my brother. I don’t trust him. I may never let my guard down there.

So as the universe would have it, no sooner did I complete my last Debbie downer blog posting, did my father give me a call. Goddamn, he always sounds so depressed and pathetic. He feels bored, useless, and lonely; Mom doesn’t like to exercise or leave the house (granted, the Mid-Atlantic is freezing outside this time of year); the two are ridiculously co-dependent, and so life trudges along with these two unabombers.

When I talk with them on the phone (weekly), I feel instantly MORE depressed afterwards. You see, here are two people who had worked really, really hard for decades. At the end of it all, yeah they are financially secure, but they are also incredibly joyless. They worked for so long to the exclusion of doing all other things, and now they have no friends and no hobbies. My father’s only interest is real estate and stocks. At times, I find myself being hypercritical, as if all he cares about is money. But at the same time, I criticize myself. After all, aren’t I (and the entire extended family) beneficiaries of his diligence and obsession? Whether it’s optimizing for retirement through IRAs or tracking individual stocks, or watching finance shows… these earnings are all fruits of his labor. And I, of all people, should show a little more understanding and appreciation for his curiosity, his drive to learn, and his own way of “playing the game.” After all, when I am honest with myself, I see that we are driven by similar motivations. Why not maximize? Why not learn how the “system” works? Why not figure out what persuades people? Why not learn about how to be more sociable, more well-liked? Aren’t we both just trying to optimize in this game of life? Why don’t I consider these interests equivalent to hobbies? Particularly in the absence of nearby kin, kids, and grand kids, what more am I asking him to do?

I suppose the answer is this. If these hobbies were to bring him joy, great. But he sounds unhappy on the phone. He needs to get out of the house. He needs to exercise. If mom is too lazy, he should still go out himself. I want them both to socialize, to do things with other people. I want them to stop hanging around just with each other, obsessing over how life has disappointed them.

They don’t verbalize these things to me, but I know that’s how they feel. They are not connected to their two kids. They can’t relate to their peers (who are all grandparents). The focus is always on what didn’t turn out right, what is lacking in their lives. I know this mode of thinking, because more often than not, that is my own outlook. All my life, my deficiencies have been what drive me to try harder and to work harder. But what motivates also debilitates. If I identify my inadequacies and use them to focus on what’s next, there is a propulsion. But if, after a certain period of time, I look back and don’t feel the progress has been sufficient, the frustration with mediocrity crashes down with a paralyzing force.  Therapists call this an “all or nothing” outlook. I’ve read so many articles about successful people: forward movement is all about the baby steps. Over time, the improvement happens. But some days, my progress doesn’t feel considerable, and then I panic. I panic that my whole life will be like this– that I will keep searching, and keep trying, but in the end, I will be in the same place— like I’ve been swimming in one of those continuous current pools. I know I have to shift my focus to finding enjoyment in the baby steps, but see?? It’s a constant mind game with moving targets!!

When I hear the sadness in my father’s voice, I don’t know what to do. I feel overwhelmed: At 37 years old, I’m still trying to figure out my own life!! Why is my father unhappy? He knows what he needs to do to feel physically stronger and better (exercise). He knows that science points to socialization and activities as a way to boost your spirits and improve quality of life. But he doesn’t do any of those things. Week after week, it’s the same story. So I lose patience, and I feel anger. I mean, honestly, this is a common theme with everyone around me who suffers from malaise: we already know the answer, but for whatever reason, it’s so difficult to move in that direction. I know that I too am guilty of this. The last two days, I’ve been feeling discouraged: I know that I have to exercise, socialize and get back on the wagon to keep my spirits up…

With my father, I try to empathize. I tell him what I’ve learned in my mental skills classes. Just because you aren’t active now doesn’t mean you can’t be tomorrow. If mom doesn’t want to join you, go by yourself. Do things you enjoy. Learn something new. Volunteer. Do something that involves other people and puts some routine back into your life. Like my professor said, it takes the same amount of energy to think positively as it does to think negatively. What are you going to choose? Sit and complain and be miserable, or try to do something differently to achieve a different outcome?

After I ended our call, I set up accounts for them on Coursera and Udemy. And I sent my mother information on iPad workshops and community college classes. Maybe they’ll come across something new and interesting to learn and that’ll help jump start them for the new year. Sheesh! What a drag to hang around Debbie Downers!!

Those of you who know me, know that my brother and I are estranged. We have pretty much been out of touch since 2003, when he lived with John and me: we were slated to move to Shanghai in December. In his typical clueless way, he went on vacation in Taiwan in September and never came back. Didn’t bother to move any of his shit out of our house. Just one of many of his inconsiderate, selfish actions.

I do see him when I travel to Taiwan to visit other family, but for the most part, we don’t really keep in touch. My family there often tries to convince me that he has matured and “changed,” but even from my sparse interactions with J,  I don’t really see much growth. He’s still pretty superficial, still into living the high life off of money that he doesn’t earn himself, and he’s still pretty self-centered. People always have to do things for him. He epitomizes the Little Emperor syndrome so prevalent in Chinese culture. And my relatives there feed into it. So it’s a vicious cycle of the world revolving around my almost 40-year old brother.

Over the last few years, he’s become involved in a Buddhist group. Well, let’s be honest: I call it a cult. Why? Because the last time I was there, I accompanied him to an evening meditation and lecture, and in the end, I was basically put into a room with 3 other believers (brother included) who bullied me for about 45 minutes, trying to get me to become a member, i.e. pay an annual membership due. Mind you, I live in the US. Why the fuck would I join a group that meets overseas?? Stupid. So yeah, in my bullying session, one lady (“elder sister”) told me some story about how she was harassed by ghosts her whole life. She apparently also witnessed levitation and shit. But after joining the group and learning under the “grand master,” she was cured and the ghosts never haunted her again. Ok, whatever. I’m not accusing her of lying. If she insists that she levitated and her sister bore witness, fine. And if the master helped her live an incredible, fulfilling life, great. Good for her. But you know what? I don’t have issues with ghosts. In fact, my brother is the biggest “issue” our family has to deal with. And even as he’s come under the tutelage of the esteemed master, he still behaves like a spoiled ass, so you know what? I’m not a believer here in the master’s teachings!! The proof is in the pudding, they say. And maybe joining the group will expose me to new practices to improve my life: meditation, anger management, love, and respect, blah, blah. Frankly, I am doing those things on my own and I don’t see why, in this case, I should pay money for other people to teach me coping mechanisms to deal with my brother. In other words, he is the source of my family’s problems. Rather than “fix” him, the master is trying to get us to pay money so we can change and learn mental skills to free ourselves from the burden that is my brother. Hmm, seems rather circuitous. It’s far easier to just be estranged.

You see, I used to have temper tantrums and fits of rage. A lot. J and I both went to Duke, and for two of my undergrad years, we overlapped. Every fucking week, my parents were calling me to check up on my brother. It was literally like having a child while I myself was a child (in college). And my mother wonders why I don’t want kids. Um, I was a parent once already, and it was hell. He was great to people face-to-face, but once the physical immediacy was gone, he was totally unresponsive, inconsiderate, and aloof. People would call, write, email. No reply. He could not be bothered. He was just one of those “out of sight, out of mind” people. You know them. They are everywhere. My parents were always making excuses for him. When his roommate complained to me that my brother never once took out the trash or washed the dishes, I had to apologize for him. After I cut him out of my life in 2003, I stopped having rage issues. You see, “Some bridges are meant to be burned, because that’s the only way to keep the bad guys from following you.”

Anyhow, I bring all this family drama up, because a few months ago, my brother contacted me via Facebook and pleaded that John and I return to Taiwan immediately to meet with him and the master. In response, I drafted a super intense, angry reply. I was so mad, I was shaking. The nerve!! I mean, yeah I’ve been struggling with figuring out my calling in life (professionally), but fuck you! Do NOT tell me what I need in my life. I’m a good person. I love my parents. I love my friends. I care about other people. Who the fuck are you to tell me that the master is going to help me be a better person and live a better life? You know what would improve my life greatly? If my brother would fucking leave everyone the hell alone. He doesn’t give two shits about my parents, who have done so much for him. He just uses them and manipulates them. Fuck off. Needless to say, my reply was a mouthful. Before I was about to press send, I read it aloud to John. No more than two sentences in, and I was strongly advised not to send it. When I feel strongly about something, I do NOT hold back. But, this time, I decided to try a different approach. I so wanted to send that email. But I didn’t: it’s still sitting in my drafts folder.

So a few months have passed, and what do you know: He emailed me again via Facebook. He heard that I’d left my job, so now is the perfect time to go and meet the master. I can live with him, teach English, take John, take the dogs… he says he needs my fortitude to help him get to the next level. Fuck. Off. That’s what I hate about religion gone wrong. It makes the believers think that religion is a prerequisite to being a good person. I don’t need validation. I have a very clear sense of what is right and wrong, what it means to be a good person. If religion offers comfort or guidance to others, great. But I show my love through actions, and the recipients of my love– not the master– will determine my intention and authenticity. No, that judgement is not up to some power-tripping dude who self-proclaims his connection to the divine. That power doesn’t belong to some person who doesn’t even know me. My brother says that “elder sister” still asks about me. As if her feigned concern means anything. I still remember asking her: “Why is it so important to you that I join?” Her response? “Because you are a fellow human being. I love you like I love all humans…” Blah, blah, blah. Um, maybe if you really loved me, you would respect my decisions and choices, and leave me the hell alone.

The thing is, I’m pretty darn gullible, but shit, that was about as unauthentic as you could get. Same shit with my brother. If you really gave a crap about your family, maybe you would just focus on being considerate rather than on recruiting everyone for your latest scam. Maybe you would show some respect and understand that no means no. Maybe you would stop trying to guilt trip people into doing something they don’t want to do in order to demonstrate their love and support. Ugh. I am so pissed. Mary Maddux and Meditation Oasis again tonight!! Shiit.