Well, it's been a long time and a wild ride. I came to terms with a lot of things in my life and it has left me riddled with anger and other easily-mismanaged feelings.
Let me setup the situation for you all, since so few of you know what the heck has been up with me.
My parents came to visit Colorado on May 27th and stayed for about a week. Their arrival date is my brother Robert's birthday. So naturally they spent the night with him and called me. I didn't go there for dinner or cake. Or even wish him a happy birthday. I will tell you why shortly. I had not spoken to him in a while...at least several weeks, approaching 2 months. His lifestyle was enough to repulse me. He hasn't had a job in years (he's only 37 now) and he has holed himself up behind a miserable defense. He doesn't have a job because they good jobs require a driver's license. Which is a crock, but anyway. And he doesn't have a license from a parking ticket in New Jersey that he still owes money on. And he won't pay that because it's "the man" trying to hold him back. Interesting, eh? And he figures if he MUST have a job, he isn't going to waste his time with a menial task or a low-paying job. So that's that. And I think he beats his wife. And I know he smokes pot and does other drugs. Kinda enough to make me not like him, right? Yeah. It gets better.
So my parents told me that I need to heal from whatever wrong he did to me and forgive him and let things be OK. Riiiiiight. The next night, I told my Mom on the phone that he did something I could never forgive him for. Never. When I was a child. My Mom said she could imagine some horrible things, and that she hoped he hadn't done them. So I told her to imagine the gayest, most non-consentual thing she could, and that was my relationship with my brother from about age 4 until age 10. It was quiet for about 2 minutes. I thought she passed out. The next morning, we talked about it at breakfast at their hotel a little. And then some more during the day. And then a lot at night. The next day got interesting.
They were going to leave (I skipped a couple days somewhere in the re-telling!) the next day, and they wanted to spend their last night with me. So they dropped Andrew (my brother's 16-year old son from his previous lover) off at a friend's house for the night. You see, my parents are trying to take custody of him due to his lack of having a decent family to grow up in, and they took him back to NJ with them. See? I told you it keeps getting better. So my folks came over around 2 and Beth was here (remember her) still. She left a couple days after they did so that she could move back to NY for the summer then come back here to finish school in the Fall. Still with me? Good. So my folks and I started talking about what they wanted for Robert And I said I didn't want to hear it. They had been providing for him for too long, and now is the time for them to ask what I need. They saw the point, but mentioned shortly thereafter that they saw Robert earlier in the day and hadn't told him that they knew!!!! So he treated them like everything was OK and vice versa. Beth almost died. She turned her classic cardinal and said she had to leave. So she did. And my parents tried to stop her and asked why she had to leave suddenly, and she said "Because I love Richard and you're breaking his heart". I love Beth. We talked some more and I told them I want my brother to have a miserable life. What he did was criminal and he should be treated like one. This went on for a little while, then Beth came back inside. Having her there, I felt stronger. She knew EVERYTHING about it for many months. She helped me immensely in this whole ordeal. So I laid into my parents and told them what I need and why. I told them some of the things he did. I told them how sad it makes me when they even mention his name. I told them how angry I was that they didn't talk to him yet. I told them all kinds of stuff. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw Beth's jaw drop. I came through. I told them everything I needed to. She couldn't be prouder of anyone.
So it was an interesting trip. And my brother is claiming emotional trauma as the reason for it all. When my parents finally told him on the phone after they returned to NJ, his words to my Mom were verbatim: "Fuck you. Don't you dare ever call here again." So that was a week or so ago. My father started trying to call a couple days after that and finally spoke to him last night. He told my Dad that he doesn't remember his childhood at all. That there were too many times in his life that he was abused in Boy Scouts that he blocked most of it out. Well, I don't believe it. Here's a good reason. You have to be around 11 to get into boy Scouts. Which would put me at age 6. Nope, too late, brother. I was 4 when it started. A couple months before 4 actually. So you were a ripe, just-turned 8. So, my brother is claiming an odd defense. Maybe it was precognitive mental trauma? Yeah, sure. Not in this idiot. So I asked my Dad tonight...what about Taryn, my 6-years-younger-than-I cousin, who told her Mommy that Robert touched her one time he was babysitting when he was about 10. And what about Pam's daughter who got her Mommy to press charges against him last year! Incidentally, Colorado still allows polygraph tests...so he passed one and the case was closed. And what about all the odd injuries his wife Sue sustained throughout their life together..odd as in internal bleeding necessitating stitches inside her vagina. Several times. And why would Sue have had abortions rather than have a child with him. 3 times that I know of. Odd, huh? Seems like a pattern.
So my parents are angering me by telling my brother that it will be OK so long as he gets help, but he won't volunteer for help. He says he blocked it out for a good reason, evidently, and that's good enough for him. If this was anyone else, my father would have killed the man. My mother would have sought revenge. My goodness, how crappy this has begun to feel. They talk more about feeling bad for his current state than feeling bad for mine or my history. Amazing.
Well, that's all. Sometimes I feel like a dog. You see, I was watching these 2 girls skipping down the sidewalk today. They stopped across the street to pet the odd little dog behind the short fence there. He was happy...he always is. And then the one picked up a stick and played with him for a minute, then tossed it to the other side of the yard and the girls walked away. By the time the dog ran on its stubs to get the stick and returned, the girls were gone. They didn't look back, even. So sometimes I feel like a sad, litte dog.
Let me setup the situation for you all, since so few of you know what the heck has been up with me.
My parents came to visit Colorado on May 27th and stayed for about a week. Their arrival date is my brother Robert's birthday. So naturally they spent the night with him and called me. I didn't go there for dinner or cake. Or even wish him a happy birthday. I will tell you why shortly. I had not spoken to him in a while...at least several weeks, approaching 2 months. His lifestyle was enough to repulse me. He hasn't had a job in years (he's only 37 now) and he has holed himself up behind a miserable defense. He doesn't have a job because they good jobs require a driver's license. Which is a crock, but anyway. And he doesn't have a license from a parking ticket in New Jersey that he still owes money on. And he won't pay that because it's "the man" trying to hold him back. Interesting, eh? And he figures if he MUST have a job, he isn't going to waste his time with a menial task or a low-paying job. So that's that. And I think he beats his wife. And I know he smokes pot and does other drugs. Kinda enough to make me not like him, right? Yeah. It gets better.
So my parents told me that I need to heal from whatever wrong he did to me and forgive him and let things be OK. Riiiiiight. The next night, I told my Mom on the phone that he did something I could never forgive him for. Never. When I was a child. My Mom said she could imagine some horrible things, and that she hoped he hadn't done them. So I told her to imagine the gayest, most non-consentual thing she could, and that was my relationship with my brother from about age 4 until age 10. It was quiet for about 2 minutes. I thought she passed out. The next morning, we talked about it at breakfast at their hotel a little. And then some more during the day. And then a lot at night. The next day got interesting.
They were going to leave (I skipped a couple days somewhere in the re-telling!) the next day, and they wanted to spend their last night with me. So they dropped Andrew (my brother's 16-year old son from his previous lover) off at a friend's house for the night. You see, my parents are trying to take custody of him due to his lack of having a decent family to grow up in, and they took him back to NJ with them. See? I told you it keeps getting better. So my folks came over around 2 and Beth was here (remember her) still. She left a couple days after they did so that she could move back to NY for the summer then come back here to finish school in the Fall. Still with me? Good. So my folks and I started talking about what they wanted for Robert And I said I didn't want to hear it. They had been providing for him for too long, and now is the time for them to ask what I need. They saw the point, but mentioned shortly thereafter that they saw Robert earlier in the day and hadn't told him that they knew!!!! So he treated them like everything was OK and vice versa. Beth almost died. She turned her classic cardinal and said she had to leave. So she did. And my parents tried to stop her and asked why she had to leave suddenly, and she said "Because I love Richard and you're breaking his heart". I love Beth. We talked some more and I told them I want my brother to have a miserable life. What he did was criminal and he should be treated like one. This went on for a little while, then Beth came back inside. Having her there, I felt stronger. She knew EVERYTHING about it for many months. She helped me immensely in this whole ordeal. So I laid into my parents and told them what I need and why. I told them some of the things he did. I told them how sad it makes me when they even mention his name. I told them how angry I was that they didn't talk to him yet. I told them all kinds of stuff. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw Beth's jaw drop. I came through. I told them everything I needed to. She couldn't be prouder of anyone.
So it was an interesting trip. And my brother is claiming emotional trauma as the reason for it all. When my parents finally told him on the phone after they returned to NJ, his words to my Mom were verbatim: "Fuck you. Don't you dare ever call here again." So that was a week or so ago. My father started trying to call a couple days after that and finally spoke to him last night. He told my Dad that he doesn't remember his childhood at all. That there were too many times in his life that he was abused in Boy Scouts that he blocked most of it out. Well, I don't believe it. Here's a good reason. You have to be around 11 to get into boy Scouts. Which would put me at age 6. Nope, too late, brother. I was 4 when it started. A couple months before 4 actually. So you were a ripe, just-turned 8. So, my brother is claiming an odd defense. Maybe it was precognitive mental trauma? Yeah, sure. Not in this idiot. So I asked my Dad tonight...what about Taryn, my 6-years-younger-than-I cousin, who told her Mommy that Robert touched her one time he was babysitting when he was about 10. And what about Pam's daughter who got her Mommy to press charges against him last year! Incidentally, Colorado still allows polygraph tests...so he passed one and the case was closed. And what about all the odd injuries his wife Sue sustained throughout their life together..odd as in internal bleeding necessitating stitches inside her vagina. Several times. And why would Sue have had abortions rather than have a child with him. 3 times that I know of. Odd, huh? Seems like a pattern.
So my parents are angering me by telling my brother that it will be OK so long as he gets help, but he won't volunteer for help. He says he blocked it out for a good reason, evidently, and that's good enough for him. If this was anyone else, my father would have killed the man. My mother would have sought revenge. My goodness, how crappy this has begun to feel. They talk more about feeling bad for his current state than feeling bad for mine or my history. Amazing.
Well, that's all. Sometimes I feel like a dog. You see, I was watching these 2 girls skipping down the sidewalk today. They stopped across the street to pet the odd little dog behind the short fence there. He was happy...he always is. And then the one picked up a stick and played with him for a minute, then tossed it to the other side of the yard and the girls walked away. By the time the dog ran on its stubs to get the stick and returned, the girls were gone. They didn't look back, even. So sometimes I feel like a sad, litte dog.
3 Comments:
I've been waiting to talk to you for a while about this entry--you encouraged me to read it so that I could understand some pieces of you--we haven't reached a point in our back and forth catchup e-mails for me to feel like there is a good moment to say, "June 2004" so I am just going to get a few things out and then maybe at some point our conversation will come back to this point and I can say them again. Thank you for offering this piece of yourself.
I am so completely sorry--for how much this has shaped your life, how much it slapped your childhood away, how horrible it must have been to live with your tormentor, horrible that you have to deal with him at all anymore, how angering it must have been as you got older the more you understood what had happened, how much it must mess/have messed with your concepts of sex and attraction, how much it impacts you to this day, that you didn't have someone to protect you, sorry that when you finally told your parents you still did not get the support you so dearly deserve and need, I am sorry for the anger and injury that you continue to have to live with. I am sorry for even the tiniest bit of generosity that I expressed towards Robert because he was your brother. I am sorry that I didn't get the chance to blast him with my anger.
If the people that should have picked up the torch of injustice and injury have failed you it must feel impossible to let go of your anger because that would feel like the violations weren't as significant or that it is somehow all okay now.
As an outside observer I am amazed at your strength and ability to function at the level that you have despite/in spite of this horror. I am very concerned about what this underlying knowledge/trauma/anger does to you; how much it defines your life. When I look back to the many times I have seen you a bit angry or mean things make more sense--your actions seem to speak of a reservoir of anger that you could easily tap---you know how to victimize/manipulate others probably in part because you were, and it is probably difficult not to express your anger or power at times--or it is hard not to relish a certain satisfaction in controlling others or inflicting some measure of pain.
I have only known you as you are and something this big shaped you hugely so as much as I have wept for who I imagine you were as a child, I am glad for how ever you figured out how to survive and become exactly who you are. I only wish for you to find a greater peace/health whether that is through stronger support from your family, writing, therapy etc. I don't know what those things are but I hope you find ways (or have found ways) to be able to live with less anger and bitterness. Your entry occurred so long ago now maybe there have been some intervening transformations--if my memories of your anger seem inaccurate I apologize --that's obviously what they are, memories since it has been about 9 years since I have seen you and 12 since I have seen you in any sort of daily way--it does not feel valid for me to have expressed any opinions or theories about how this has all affected you so I really hope that you have not been offended by my words--I felt that your words definitely deserved a response.
Love to you.
-miguel
Postscript:
That 2nd to last paragraph came out a bit crude and I apologize. There is something about my memories of your anger that I need to articulate and I don't think this format is helping me. It has to do with my bafflement when I witnessed your anger's sharp edge--learning about more of your formation made me ponder that anger some more. I don't know if you still use it or how much of a protection or tool or survival mechanism it is.
One of the things that put you in extremely stark contrast to your brother--once I met him--was your intelligence/fast-thinking/verbal ability. I think this is something you are completely aware of and have been for a while and I imagine it has served you for a long time in besting your brother in many ways. Your brother didn't strike me as dumb just a bit gross/lazy and if families take on roles he probably gave up a while ago in trying to compete with you too hard on an academic level.
Anyway I am writing some of this because I wonder how much you learned to use anger at a young age and how much you use your it to control others around you or keep them at a certain distance--unable to fully trust you--keeping your vulnerability--in theory-- at a minimum. It seems like if that is in any way the case it has created some painful byproducts for you in the process.
Do you relish your anger in some way? I relish my anger at times but not if I feel that I have been particularly mean in the process. When I saw you do something that I considered harsh towards MG I gave you crap but I don't think I ever asked you if you regretted any of the words that came out of your mouth...I imagine that it takes that much more control and caring to not use your most biting words because you are as "genius" as you are; I imagine you can think of a pointed word or action that much faster than your antagonist.
Okay I still feel very lame and unsatisfied with trying to articulate these thoughts --I really hope we find some moments to speak about them together.
-m
We will find the time Mielle. I will start making the time in my life that I need. Thereis enough motivation, and enough love in my heart to open it wide open for people like you. I'll be waiting.
-RB
Post a Comment
<< Home