My Brother and Me- A Creative Writing Essay

It was not difficult for my parents to realize there was something different about my brother Nick and I. Being twins we went through the motions of childhood at the same time and it was easy to track our accomplishments and compare the two; it was clear they were happening at different rates. I’d run around the house bow legged at nine months old. I’d waddle over to my brother who was still crawling, grab his toy, and run across the house to place it somewhere else. This was my way of saying “look at me! I can walk and you can’t!”  I was potty trained and started talking while Nick was still just babbling in his diaper. These were of course all factors that caused my parents to believe there was something off. But the dead give away wasn’t any of these things. 

We used to watch developmental baby shows- Baby Neptune, Baby Galeio, and of course, Baby Shakespeare. On our basic, white, stocky refrigerator, we had lettered magnets for us to spell things out on. One day the word Shakespeare appeared on this very fridge with these very magnets. My mom didn’t write it, my dad didn’t write it, and I definitely didn’t write it because the only thing on my mind at the time was chewing on my Barbie dolls’ clothes. Nick at the age of three, when a child is just starting to form basic cohesive thoughts, wrote out “Shakespeare” on our fridge- with perfect spelling too may I add. 

There were only two explanations for this: 1. Nick was the reincarnation of William Shakespeare himself. Or 2. Nick was on the autism spectrum. The second option became my family’s reality rapidly after his diagnosis. 

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I sit in bed with the urge to watch an exceptional movie. My favorite people to ask for movie recommendations are my parents. I walk down the hall to ask them for some ideas. My favorite kinds of films are the ones that make me feel deeply. “Have you seen What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?” What's eating who? Sounds lame to me. How many movies have you seen with an autistic character? I sure haven’t seen many. In the entire world of cinema, I can count the amount of movies that accurately represent autism on my fingers. This movie is one of them. After my very first watch of this film I felt nostalgic. I felt seen. I felt that if other people saw this film they would understand me. This movie says all the things I want to say about my own life that I can’t always express. 

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It’s May and the air is warm and fresh with the start of summer approaching. A reminder that change was soon approaching and I’d be moving to Santa Barbara in the blink of an eye. I don't do well with change. I never have- I’m not an easily adaptable person likely due to living with my brother who is so routine based that if you ever dare try to knock him off his schedule your day will be ruined.

 I take a deep breath in as I open the door to my therapist’s office. I am usually really cooperative when opening up to her. However, talking about Nick has always been so different. It feels like I’m betraying him by complaining- or for lack of better words, being frustrated by how his disability has affected my life. These are such specific elements of my life that I never truly recognized until I started therapy. I take a seat inside and exhale deeply as I am about to unpack the elements of my life that are so necessary to talk about, but I wish I didn’t need to. The sunlight reflecting through the window calms me. 

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I almost trip over my words. “I feel selfish for leaving him. It’s unfair that I’m able to move out of the house and go to college and he cannot. But I think it's unfair for me to stay stagnant because I’ve convinced myself that is what Nick would want.”

I wish I could read his mind. I wish I had even the slightest idea of what he would say. 

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“I can tell this isn’t easy for you to admit.” My therapist states this. She is correct. My mind and body separate. 

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My leg is bouncing up and down rapidly. I’m gripping onto my necklace as if it's my anchor. I’m biting my nails. I question why she would think this until I become present in my body again.

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In the film What’s Eating Gilbert Grape, Depp plays the brother and ultimate caretaker (Gilbert) of Dicaprio (Arnie). He brings Arnie wherever he goes, watching him like a hawk to his best extent. Gilbert finds himself making sacrifices such as working the same job, staying in the same home, and developing a routine based around the needs of his disabled brother and family dynamic. Being Arnie’s primary caretaker becomes a main part of his identity as it’s a part of mine. 

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I met my best friend the minute I was born. I loved my brother so much that I asked my mom for his hand in marriage at three years old. “Why can’t I marry my brother? I want to spend the rest of my life with him!” Of course my proper knowledge of what marriage really is wasn’t present at such a young age. What has always been present is my urge to protect my Nick from anything and anyone- to make sure I held his hand through every single step of this life we were chosen to navigate together. As a child I knew my brother was different, but I couldn’t fully grasp how or why. As an adult I still can’t fully comprehend why. My life’s mantra has always been that everything happens for a reason. I think I was chosen to be Nick’s sister because the universe knew I could be strong enough to protect him. I can't remember the moment this idea came to be, but I think it is why I have always felt a responsibility to take care of him. 

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I give my therapist little snippets of my life at home. How frustrated I am that I have to plan out the time I shower everyday because Nick has to take a shower at the exact same time each day. How when I’m in my room working on homework it’s hard to focus because Nick has come home from school after having a bad day and runs up and down the halls screaming at a shrieking pitch for thirty minutes straight. How sometimes when all I need is a morning to sleep in I am woken up by the sounds of him throwing up from his medication. I am an anxious person. My anxiety skyrockets anytime my therapist so easily gets me to admit to these frustrations. My brother is my everything. It sometimes feels contradictory for me to admit that I am upset with his autism when I am the person who is supposed to be protecting him from a world of people who don’t understand his disability.

I wonder if he could understand this feeling. I wonder how he’d feel about me if he did. 

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I refer back to What’s Eating Gilbert Grape pretty frequently. I see myself and my relationship with my brother through the story that unravels on my screen. Significant expectations are held above Gilbert’s head- to make sure his brother does not run away, to bathe and make sure Arnie is fed, to make sure no one ever hurts Arnie. There’s a scene where Gilbert becomes so overwhelmed with the balancing of his own personal desires and his responsibilities as a caretaker that he finds himself physically taking his anger out on Arnie. Gilbert is seen distraught by his own actions and has trouble comprehending how or why he hurt his brother, when he is the one person who is meant to protect him. I get choked up. I understand. I’ve been here before. 

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This is where I saw myself- wanting so badly to seek out my own personal experiences to enhance my life but feeling overwhelmed with my duty to protect and be there for Nick that it sometimes eats away at me. There is significance in the title of the film. What eats away at Gilbert Grape is the same thing that eats away at me- the balance of personal sacrifices and the expectations of taking care of my disabled brother. 

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I write the words of my therapist in my notes: “what is a reasonable sacrifice and what are unreasonable expectations?” I don’t know how to answer. I bite down on my nails. I circle  my right temple with my pointer finger. The tapping of my mary jane shoe hitting the carpet flooring picks up its pace. I think I’m ready to push my anxieties away and find new meaning in my relationship with Nick through adulthood. 

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I think of the last scene of What’s Eating Gilbert Grape. Despite all the hardships Gilbert has gone through in his personal life and as a caretaker, he finally moves away from their hometown that he didn’t see possible to leave. He brings Arnie with him to explore a new chapter of life; one where Gilbert can do the things he’s always wanted and also be there for Arnie. This scene started to speak to me as I approached a new chapter of my own life. 

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The question my therapist poses makes me think hard.  The lines she speaks of have always been blurred for me. At first I thought there could be no reasonable sacrifices in this situation- My brother is my family. This is the life I was given and the cards I was dealt and I must accept that. The more I asked myself this question the more I realized how many unreasonable expectations I had given myself about the way my life would pan out. 

My responsibility in the far off future is to take care of my brother full time. My responsibility as a twenty something year old girl is to get a degree, find a career path, travel the world, make friends, make money, make memories, and so much more. It is possible for me to do this all while simultaneously loving, worrying about, and caring for my brother- This is the ultimate balance of sacrifice and expectations.