Man, I’ve got a lot to say about this. I moved in with my brother and his girlfriend when I was ~20 into a two bedroom place. It was the same as you, we took an apartment together. They didn’t take me in for hardship. After that, I moved in with him and another guy into a three bedroom place. I mostly liked my brother in those days. More on this later.
First of all, as an adult, it’s really hard to live with anyone you’re not fucking, and even that’s hard. But you have more at stake, so it’s easier to tone down your own assholishness and the same is true of your partner. So, back to the sibling thing. When one moves out on their own, they want freedom. Freedom from their parents and frankly, from their history as a dependant human being. Living with a sibling is not a good way to accomplish this.
It truly brings out the worst in both parties. When my brother and I were kids, we used to have serious physical fights. I’m talking about fights that ended up it the ER for stiches. Neither of us was off our rocker in any way. It was just “sibling rivalry” I guess. Neither of us are or were prone to street fighting or picking fights in bars. We just fought each other. In hindsight, it really was pretty brutal.
Sometime around the time I started high school (same school, I was two years younger) we started hanging in overlapping circles and we stopped beating the shit out of each other. We were even mostly friendly at that point. He went off to college, I moved out at 17, and when I needed to share an apartment some years later, he and his girlfriend were looking in the same city. So, we took a place together.
There were the usual roommate issues, in which I always felt ganged up on. We were adults, so there was the added ingredient of alcohol. We both learned that early 20s men can do a hell of a lot more damage to each other than early teenagers could. In one incident, I actually fractured his back. I’m not saying this proudly. In later years, he was injured in a motorcycle accident, and it almost made me vomit to think that I might be partially responsible for his paralysis. Thankfully, things didn’t shake out that way.
Some year ago, I went to work for my brother and my father, who had “co-owned” a business for nine years. I use quotes because my brother invested nothing in the company. He was given equal equity after their first few years for nothing but doing his job. I was offered the same starting salary as my brother had been offered nine years prior, without the company vehicle. I was insulted, and declined the offer. They came back with a better offer, which I took. It was a very bad mistake. I knew it was a mistake when I made it. Shame on me for that.
I will admit that I was not the greatest employee. The job really didn’t suit me, and I wasn’t happy there. The real kicker was that my brother thought that the best way to improve my job performance was to treat me like a piece of shit. Mostly, my dad sided with my brother. I haven’t talked to my brother since the day I walked out. Almost four years. I didn’t talk to my dad for almost three years, and I haven’t spoken with him since January, which was the three year mark.
Forgive my long, rambling post. It was the long way around the block to say two very important opinions that I hold:
- Do not live with members of your childhood nuclear family as an adult.
- Do not work with members of your childhood nuclear family as an adult.
There are of course many exceptions. It doesn’t sound like yours is one. Do what you can to become employed again and GTFO. One man’s opinion.