I'm not great at knowing when to quit. I'm stubborn and loyal and I actively try to think the best of people. I try to work out problems or let things blow over. I try to let bygones be bygones, etc. But I've cut people off before when they've reached that line in the sand. This far, and no farther! I sometimes only know the line when I've found it.

With my high school friend Laura, I cut her off when I came out. She had a history of saying racist and homophobic things and I said no more. I wrote her an email and stopped talking to her.

Sadly with my jobs I put up with with too much, but that is a story for another day. Mainly I did not feel safe to just up and quit, which was what I should have done.

With a roommate who had already been stealing money, I finally confronted her, and actually yelled, when I found out she stole medication from me and tried to hide it. Like money is one thing but messing with medication is potentially deadly. I've yelled very few times in my adult life.

With a girlfriend, it was a nasty comment about the teenager she lived with, wishing harm or death or something. I just shut down and stopped investing in the relationship. I broke up with her via text message.

With my brother Nik, the final straw has been laid, the line in the sand is drawn. He lied to my best friend jesse_the_k. I've burned through the worst of my anger and now I'm just calm. I've decided that I'm done.

I realized today that a lot of my friends don't know about what I've gone through this year.

Last year in June I moved back to Minnesota to look after my dad. My mom was in the hospital for a month and then moved to a nursing home with sudden-onset dementia (B1 deficiency) secondary to cancer.

I intended to support them temporarily but decided to make it a more permanent move to support them and their many animals. I struggled and kept expecting other family members to step up, but they did not.

I was hospitalized in May 2025 after a seizure. (Two seizures in 3 years means a new diagnosis of epilepsy.) I am missing about a week or 2 of memories from directly after that experience, so I don't know for sure what happened. I was busy looking after my dad and the animals, and then coordinating a move for my parents into assisted living, which I mostly did myself, While recovering from a seizure, with a broken rib.

I don't know why-- again, I don't remember (likely from medication side effects), but no one from the family came to help me directly after the seizure. My dad (who has dementia) and I did it alone. I'm angry about it and need people to know.

I supported my family for a year and half and did not receive any funds, no salary, very little emotional or logistical help from my brother, his wife, or his 4 healthy teenage kids. There is a wider extended family and they didn't show up either. We got some occasional visits but it wasn't enough.

Since moving my parents into assisted living, I have continued to support them in many ways, including looking after their farm and animals, again with no funds.

This week I asked my brother to help me advocate with my dad, to get me some money. He said no. He believes we should sell the farm (where I am now living). He made no mention of any provisions for me.

I'm obviously very upset, but the anger is at least helping me communicate about what is happening. I am reaching out to friends and various family members and trying to raise the alarm to protect myself.

I am safe for the time being but it is not the best idea for me to be living alone. I had intended to find roommates to come live here with me, but there are some barriers, including me not being the property owner, and the house being a bit of a mess. My next step is to directly talk to my parents about this situation. They both have dementia but I think they are capable of understanding my position.

I am currently unsure what the best course of action is moving forward. But I at least want folks to know what is going on. It's been very helpful to talk on the phone with friends who are affirming to me that this is a fucked up way to be treated. It's been a bitter pill to swallow, realizing that my family is exploiting me.

Warm thoughts, mail, messages are all helpful.