Definition: Given a real-life anecdote of a complex ethical situation, generate a suitable title that describes the main event/root cause of the situation. Imagine that the given text is a social media post, and you have to write the title of the post, so the users can decide to read the main text or not.
Input: I've made an alt account to post this as I don't want to be identified.

This story starts from, well - the day I was born.
My siblings are a good 10-20 years older than me, so they were in their late teens when I was born. One of my brothers who ill call J befriended my father who was an alcoholic and abusive asshole. My dad got him his first job on a construction site, but the friendship kind of corrupted him. He turned to hard drugs and became an alcoholic. 

There's a lot of people involved in this story, and I don't know if I'm in the wrong in any of the scenarios so please, hear me out.

My brother spiraled. His mental health was worse than ever and he became abusive himself, only when he was drunk though. When he was sober, lovely but troubled man. He used to sit with me, tell me everything. He would tell me how depressed he was and what he thought his dreams meant. He told me about messed up stuff from his childhood, and although i'd been slapped, punched, pushed, etc by this man, I had a genuine understanding of what he was going through. He had never had a gf, until about 5 years back. He was almost 40 as this point. She was a horrible, nasty woman. He started to go to college, she changed his mind and he went back to drugs again. We found out that she had had her name changed by the courts after an 8 year sentence. We never found out what she did. Anyway, she turned vapid, proper mentalist. She attempted to stab my brother, failed and she'd pace back and forth in the hallway with a knife chanting that she was going to kill my mum. My brother dumped her, but she came back with 'i'm pregnant'.

My brother, being surprised and amazed that he had to chance to be a father went flying back to her. Sure beats prison, which he'd been to a few times for minor offenses committed while drunk. 

The girlfriend, who ill call R moved in to a caravan in my mums back garden with J for Christmas. After a few weeks, my mum started trusted them to come in. R would insist on washing dishes for my mum, etc. Next thing I know, Christmas eve. I'm playing fallout 4 upstairs in my room and my brother comes waltzing in drunk. This has always been kind of scary for me as I'm a girl and my brother was a lot larger than me, he had hit me before. I have really bad anxiety, so its not often I stand up for myself. 


So, he comes in and he goes "Mums crying downstairs" while laughing. I look at him and stand up and scream "if you've fucking hurt her, I'll kill you' and I run downstairs to check on her while my brother sits in my room, having the audacity to ask me for a lighter for his cig. I run down, and my mums in tears. Next thing I know, R comes downstairs after me and my mum. She's very pregnant at this point and she was getting aggressive. She was very, very drunk and on speed or something. She was jittery and telling my mum she would kill her. R pushed my mum, so my mum shoved her back (for her own safety). 

R started the whole " I'm pregnant! You hit me!" 
My mum fired back over the alcohol and drugs and how she was killing her grandchild. Things really kicked off there, so my mum called my other brother, who we'll call Alam. Alam and his wife Deye turn up, arguing for them to leave our property. Some really horrible things were said, I recorded everything for safety. Luckily no one was badly hurt. 

Fast forward about 7 months, still haven't seen my brother and I haven't seen my nephew either. I'll call the baby J JR. I ended up moving north to be with my SO, so I left the family behind. I was done with the drama. Then about a year later, I get a call from my mum. She's hysteric, sobbing, can't even speak. I immediately know that something bad has happened. She tells me that J had died on the streets alone because he had OD'd. He was homeless again and turned to drugs. He barely got to know his own son. 


I remember watching the footage from that Christmas eve, over and over again, knowing that was my last interaction with him. Screaming, death threats, the latter. 
I feel guilt for not reaching out after that night, not being the support I used to be. But I also don't because of the stuff he put me through. It's tough. 

Next thing I know, R has full custody over J. JR and is calling my mum, threatening to kill the baby if she didn't come and get him. 

My mum picked up the baby and basically raised him for his first year, going to court over and over, trying to save her grandson from this psyco. R threatened to firebomb my mums house, so she wanted to move for safety. My other brother and his wife then took custody of J JR. My mum followed me up north and frequently visits down south to see J JR. 

Now I'm worried, because it seems my brother wife doesn't want my mum to see him. She makes every excuse possible. My mum spend hundreds of pounds a couple months back to visit, and she only got 10 minutes with her grandson, the only remaining part of her dead son, is his son. It's so sad, and I can't help but be angry at my other siblings for not defending our mum. She's being excluded for moving for her own safety. 

The funeral, R decided to come up to me sobbing (yes, she was allowed at the funeral) 
She tried to put her hands on my face, saying my name and asking if I was okay. I looked completely through her and shoved past, not even batting an eye. She made the entire funeral about her. 

She then tried to steal my brothers ashes so my mum couldn't scatter them. 


It sounds dumb, but I can't help but feel guilt over it.  Over not reaching out to my brother after things went south, for being angry at my family for excluding my mum. Although, being angry at R, for literally ruining my brothers life is justified, I just don't know if my thoughts on others involved are justified.


Sorry for the novel, but I feel like the ass. I feel like I won't stop grieving until I know it wasn't my fault our last interaction was so toxic and violent. 

Sorry 



hating Family