times like these...victimized (again)

so, my last entry was all about how i hoped my brother never ended up being denied things because of his past. well, i found out about five minutes ago that my brother took $40 out of my wallet. when i went to confront him, he got pissed. my mom talked to him, and, it turns out, he stole my money. what the hell? he gets mad at me for stealing my money?!! this happened last year too, but instead of $40, he pawned my high school ring, my guitar, my dvd player, my manual camera (with film still in it from the ethnobotany exhibit), and my prized possession: my shelf stereo complete with tape deck, cd player, and record player. and once, back during my days as a TAMUG student, he stole my tuition money from under my mattress. i'd been hiding it that night because i was going to get a cashier's check the next day to pay my tuition. that money was in excess of $3000.

he's always stealing. he's been stealing since he was in elementary school. i don't know what he does with the stuff and why he needs the money. he has a job, and wants to get his own place and save up for a down payment on a car. but, his checking account is always negative, and he's been reported to a credit bureau for failure to pay his only credit card. i'm sorry, but having bad credit and a negative checking account is not going to get you an apartment or a car.

tough love doesn't work. we did that last year, and my mom and i have too much of a heart to kick him to the curb in the cold when he doesn't have a job, cell phone, or car. he was on drugs, and my fear is that he'll slip up, do some PCP or whatever it is, go berzerk, and kill us all during the night. i know that's insane, but it's where my mind goes when this stuff happens. i know that it's only $40, but it's only $40 now. over the years, it adds up. and, yes, most of that stuff is material stuff, but that material stuff has memories. that stereo was a graduation gift from my favorite uncle, and we'd use it to listen to old folk records.

in september, we checked him into a drug treatment facility with a 30 day program. after their initial assessment and counseling session, the administrators believed that his condition and addiction was so bad that he wouldn't benefit from their 30 day program. they suggested that he enroll in their 7 month program. after looking around, my brother refused to stay. he didn't want to be around homeless people and junkies. he had to much pride to stay and get help, even though he told me he had a drug problem and wanted help (first step, right?). my dad refused to let him come home. they struck a deal that he would stay two weeks. all of us hoped that those two weeks would do something--anything--and he'd end up staying 30 days. wrong. he came back in 13 days, and got a checking account and a job, but now he's negative and hates his boss.

anyway, my brother comes into my room after my mom talks to/yells at him and apologizes. like that fixes everything. like that brings my $40 back. that apology isn't going to fill my gas tank, you know?

UGH. i just don't know what to do.