I guess I'm just typing this out because I can't really talk to anyone about it, not in real life anyway. It's late, like 2am, and I'm just staring at the ceiling, my wife's asleep next to me, and all I can think about is this... problem. My older sister, Brenda. I swear, it's just this constant drain, like a slow leak in the foundation of my life, you know? It's not like I'm poor or anything, I mean, we do alright. House in the suburbs, two kids mostly grown, one in college, one almost done with high school. Car's paid off, commute to the city isn't terrible. We're comfortable. But it's always SOMETHING with Brenda. The latest thing happened last week. I got this text, like, "Hey little bro, got a sec?" And I just KNEW. My stomach kind of dropped. It's always a sec when she needs money. It was the rent this time, again. Said she got her hours cut, landlord was being a real jerk, blah blah blah. Same story different month, practically. I mean, she hasn't had a real job in... I don't even know how long. She does these little gigs, selling some crafts online, maybe a dog walking thing for a few weeks, but nothing steady. And she just expects me to cover her whenever she runs short. Which is always. I sent her the money, of course. What am I gonna do? Let my sister get evicted? My parents are getting older, my dad’s got that heart thing, my mom’s got the early memory stuff happening. They don’t need that stress. And Brenda knows I'll do it because of them, I think. She always brings them up. "Mom and Dad would be so disappointed if I was out on the street," she’ll say. It’s like a twisted guilt trip, you know? But then the real kicker was Sunday. We had that barbecue at Mike and Karen's place, the annual neighborhood cookout. Brenda was there, naturally, because she always shows up to the free food and drinks. And everyone's talking about summer plans, vacations, whatever. I was telling Mike about how we're putting off upgrading the patio furniture this year, just trying to be sensible with college tuition coming up for our youngest. And Brenda just laughs, this loud, kind of fake laugh, and says to Karen, "Oh, you know [my name], always pinching pennies! He still drives that old Accord, probably buys store-brand cereal!" And she just winks, like it's a big joke. My face, I could feel it just get hot. Like, she says this stuff about me to our mutual friends, people from high school that we still see. She makes it sound like I'm some kind of miser, just because I'm not blowing money on stupid stuff. Meanwhile, I'm the one who just sent her $1,200 for rent a few days before! And she's wearing this new dress, looks kinda fancy, probably spent a fortune on her hair too. It just eats at me, you know? The hypocrisy of it all. Like she genuinely thinks I'm being a party pooper, when really, I'm just trying to keep my own head above water and keep her from sinking too. It's this weird dynamic. I feel like if I stopped bailing her out, she'd just go under. And then what? Would she come live with us? That would be a whole other nightmare. My wife, bless her heart, she's patient, but even she’s starting to make comments, like, "Is Brenda ever going to get it together?" I just shrug. What can I say? I don’t know. I honestly don’t. Sometimes I think about what would happen if I just said no. Like, a hard no. What would she do? Probably call my parents, get them all worked up. Or maybe she would finally, FINALLY, try to get a real job. But I just can't bring myself to do it. It's like I'm trapped in this loop. I send her money, she wastes it, she mocks my sensible spending, then she needs more money. It’s infuriating. It’s just... exhausting. I don't even know what I want out of typing this. Just to get it out, I guess. So it's not just rattling around in my head while everyone else is asleep.