I became my disabled brother’s guardian after our parents passed away, and I worked two jobs to keep things afloat. When I asked relatives for help, they refused and reported me to social services. I’m not sure what I did wrong. My friends are split. Some say I did what I had to do. Others say I should have been nicer.
My parents died two years ago in a car accident. It was sudden. I was twenty-three then, and my brother Alex was eighteen. Alex is disabled. He has a condition that means he needs a lot of care, and he cannot live on his own. He uses a wheelchair most of the time. He can walk a little with help, but it is hard for him.
He also has trouble speaking clearly, especially when he is tired or upset. He needs help getting dressed, making food, and with personal care. He can feed himself if the food is cut up, but it takes him a long time. He also needs someone to be there for medical appointments and to manage his medications. He will never be able to work a job that pays enough to live on.
When our parents died, I became Alex’s legal guardian. There was no one else. Our other family lives far away, or they are too old. I was still in school then, trying to finish my degree, and I had to drop out. There was no money left after the funeral costs and paying off some of their debts. My parents did not have life insurance.
Their house was a rental, so we had to move. I found a small apartment. It isn’t great, but it is on the ground floor, so Alex can get in and out with his chair. That is the main good thing about it. I work two jobs to pay for our rent, food, Alex’s medical supplies, and everything else.
My first job is at a grocery store during the day. I stock shelves and work the cash register, and it pays minimum wage. My second job is cleaning offices at night. I usually work from 7:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m., sometimes later if it is a big office. I get home very late. I am tired all the time. Alex gets lonely.
During the day, when I am at my first job, he is mostly alone. We have a support worker who comes for two hours, three days a week. That is all we can afford from the government disability money he gets, and it is not much. The worker helps him with lunch and some basic exercises. The rest of the time, he watches TV or plays games on his tablet.
Before my parents died, they were very close to their friends Carol and Rob. Carol and Rob are Alex’s godparents. They were always around when we were kids. They promised my parents they would always look out for Alex. They said it many times.
“Don’t worry. If anything ever happens to you, we’ll make sure Alex is taken care of.”
My mom and dad believed them. I believed them too. After the funeral, Carol and Rob were sad. They helped a little with sorting some of my parents’ things, and they brought over food a few times. Then they started visiting less. They said they were busy with work.
They have their own lives. Their kids are grown up and gone from home. They live in a big house about thirty minutes away from us, and they are comfortable. Rob has a good job as a manager at a company. Carol does volunteer work.
Last month, things got really hard. The rent went up. Alex needed a new part for his wheelchair, and it was expensive. I was looking at our money and I just did not know how I was going to make it work. I was so stressed. I had not slept properly in days. I kept thinking about what my parents used to say about Carol and Rob. I kept thinking about their promises.
So I called Carol. I asked if I could come over to talk to her and Rob. She sounded a little surprised, but she said okay. I arranged for a friend to stay with Alex for a few hours. When I got to their house, they offered me tea, and we sat in their nice living room. It was quiet.
I told them how hard things were. I explained about the rent, the wheelchair part, and how I was working two jobs and still struggling. I tried to be calm. I laid out the facts.
“I am finding it very difficult to manage everything on my own. Alex needs more support than I can give him right now, especially with my work schedule.”
Then I asked them for help. I was specific. I asked if they could contribute a small amount each month toward Alex’s care costs, maybe two hundred dollars a month. If not money, then maybe one of them could spend one afternoon a week with Alex. It would give him some company, and it would give me a break or a chance to pick up an extra shift at the grocery store if they had one going.
“My parents trusted you. You told them you would always be there for Alex.”
Carol looked at Rob. Rob looked at his hands. Then Carol said it.
“Well, this is a lot to spring on us.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but I don’t know who else to turn to.”
Carol got a strange look on her face.
“You know, your parents would want you to stand on your own two feet. You are an adult now. It sounds like you are trying to use guilt to get us to pay for your responsibilities.”
I was shocked. I truly did not expect that. I said I was not trying to use guilt. I said I was just stating a fact, that they had made promises, and that I was doing everything I could. Being an adult did not magically create more money or more hours in the day.
Then Rob spoke up.
“We have our own lives to think about, our own retirement. We helped you when your parents died. We did our part.”
He said it flatly. I felt my face get hot.
“Your part? What about Alex’s part in your life? He is your godson. He misses you. He asks about you.”
Carol’s voice rose.
“Don’t you try to manipulate us with Alex. It is your job to look after him. We have sympathy. Of course we do. But you are a young woman. You should be able to manage. Maybe you need to budget better or find a better-paying job.”
I stood up then.
“Budget better? A better job? Do you have any idea how hard it is out there? I am doing everything I can. I came here asking for a little help, not for you to criticize me.”
My voice was shaking a little, but I did not yell. Carol stood up too.
“I think you should leave. You are being very disrespectful. We were good friends to your parents. We do not deserve to be spoken to like this in our own home just because you can’t handle your life.”
I picked up my bag.
“Fine. I understand. You have made your position very clear.”
I walked to the door. Before I left, I turned back one last time.
“I hope you remember what you told my parents, and I hope you think about Alex.”
Then I left. I cried in my car. I felt so stupid and so angry. When I got home, Alex was happy to see me, and I did not tell him what had happened.
It has been about two weeks since then, and I have not heard from Carol or Rob. I managed to borrow some money from a friend to cover the wheelchair part. I am working even more hours at the grocery store whenever they can give them to me, which means I sleep even less. My friend who loaned me the money says I was right to ask them and that they are terrible people.
Another friend said I should have been more grateful for their past help and not brought up the promises because it made them defensive. She said I might have gotten some help if I had been more humble. So, Reddit, AITA for asking them for help, and for how I reacted when they said no and accused me of using guilt? Was I disrespectful?
Update one. Hi, everyone. Thank you for all the comments on my original post. Most people said NTA and that Carol and Rob were the ones in the wrong. Some people gave advice about looking for other resources for Alex, and I am looking into those. It takes time. A lot of people were angry on my behalf, and that felt strange, but also like maybe I was not crazy for feeling so upset.
A few things happened after I made that post. About a week ago, I was at the grocery store on my checkout line. It was a busy Saturday morning. I looked up and saw Carol standing there with a full cart of groceries. I had not seen her since I went to her house, and my heart started beating fast. I just focused on the customer I was already serving.
When it was Carol’s turn, she came forward without saying hello. She just started putting her things on the belt. I said her name in a normal voice, the same way I would greet any customer. She looked at me, her face hard as stone, and then she said it loudly enough for other people in line to hear.
“Oh, so now you are speaking to me after you stormed out of my house and insulted us.”
I was mortified. My cheeks went hot. I kept scanning her items.
“Carol, I am at work. This is not the place.”
She got even louder.
“It is never the place for you to be respectful, is it? You just want to use people. Your parents would be so ashamed of how you are behaving, trying to make us feel bad for your problems.”
My supervisor at the next register looked over. Other customers were staring. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me.
“Please, Carol, let’s not do this here.”
“And spreading stories about us. We know you have been talking. People have told us. You are making us out to be monsters.”
I had not told anyone their names or any details that would identify them easily in my original post, but I guess they figured it out, or someone they knew saw it and told them. Or maybe she was just guessing. I finished scanning her items and told her the total. She paid with her card. As she waited for the payment to go through, she leaned in closer and spoke in a lower voice, but it was still angry.
“You are a nasty, ungrateful girl. Rob and I are very disappointed in you. We are done with you, and we are done with Alex too, if this is how you are going to be.”
I just looked at her. I did not say anything. I was shaking. My hands felt cold. She took her bags and receipt and walked away without another word.
My supervisor came over after Carol left and the line had gone down. She asked if I was okay. I said I was fine, just a little flustered. She said that woman seemed very aggressive and asked if I knew her. I told her she was an old family friend and that we had a disagreement. My supervisor just nodded.
“Well, if she causes trouble again, you let me know.”
I thanked her. I was upset for the rest of my shift. When I got home, I just sat on the couch for a long time. I still did not tell Alex, though he could tell I was sad. He kept patting my arm.
The next day, Rob called me. I was surprised he called at all. His voice was calm, but not friendly.
“Carol told me she saw you at the store.”
“Yes, she was there.”
“She was very upset by your attitude, and we are very upset that you seem to be telling tales about us.”
I told him I had said to Carol that my workplace was not the place for that discussion, and that I was not spreading tales. I had described a situation. Rob sighed like I was being difficult.
“Well, Carol gets emotional, but the point is we feel you are burning bridges. We were always fond of Alex, but your behavior is making it very difficult for us to have any kind of relationship with either of you.”
“What behavior, Rob? Asking for help when I am drowning? Reacting when I’m accused of things that are not true?”
He sighed again.
“You were very accusatory when you came to our house. You brought up old promises in a way that was designed to make us feel guilty. That is not how you ask for help.”
“So how should I have asked? Should I have begged?”
He did not answer that. He just kept going.
“Carol is very hurt, and frankly so am I. We thought better of you. We have decided it is best if we all have some space. We will not be contacting you again, and we would appreciate it if you did not contact us.”
“So that’s it? After everything? After all the years with my parents? Alex is your godson. That means nothing?”
“It means we wish him well. From a distance. You have made it clear you do not respect us or value our past kindness.”
Then he said goodbye and hung up before I could say anything else. That is where things stood. They had cut contact.
Carol made a scene at my job. Rob called to tell me it was my fault. I felt like I was living in some kind of bad dream. I never wanted any of this to happen. I just wanted some help. I was still working my jobs, still exhausted, and now I had this extra layer of anger and sadness on top of everything else.
