Abuse

no-running

With each day, I never know what to expect anymore.  My last thoughts before I fall asleep are about Austin.  It’s been over a year and a half, and I still wake up each morning and I have to tell myself he is gone.  I’m not sure if that will ever change, if my mind is capable of fulling accepting this.  I think a part of me still is in denial, and that somehow, someway he isn’t gone.

Reality hits, and I get a wave of anxiety that overtakes my body.   It starts in my legs and moves its way up my body into my chest.  I feel like a rock is on my chest, and I can’t breathe  This is what I experience every day.

I mentioned Brad in my last post.  Talking with my therapist, he is the root of all my major issues in life.   Everything can be tied back to him.

Brad was all about the high life.  Big, expensive cars.  Money with a huge house in a rich suburb of North Minneapolis. He never cared about things that matter to most human beings, like family.  The most important thing he cared about was himself.

I was 11.  Brad and I were driving somewhere, running errands on a Saturday afternoon. I was sitting in the passenger seat, with my feet up on the dashboard.  Of course, he had just purchased a brand new car.  Somehow my foot slipped and it broke off one of the air vents.  Not the best thing to happen, but not the end of the world.  Accidents happen, I was just a kid.

Brad became outrageously livid.  He pulled into the nearest gas station.  He pushed me out of the car and told me to “fucking walk home.”  He drove away and I was stranded in the back side of a gas station alley.  I was at least a twenty minute walk home. Cell phones weren’t a thing back then, so I had no way to call my mom.  I sat on the curb and started crying.  Around 15 minutes later, Brad pulled in and told me to get in the car.  We drove home in silence.

I don’t know all that my brother went through with Brad.  Austin told me some stories.  Austin and I had to go over every other weekend to his townhouse in Maple Grove.  It was just him and I, and all we had in that miserable hell was each other.  I stopped going over there when I was 18.  Austin had to still go over there by himself.

My sister, brother and I all had some of Brad in us.  I have his pure stubbornness and his mood swings.  My brother looked exactly like my dad as he continued to grow up.  Even though my brother looked like a mini version of Brad, his heart and his nature wasn’t even comparable.

I have never known of a kinder, deeper, loving soul than my brother’s.  I don’t think I will meet anyone whose soul was like my brother’s, it was a rarity in this cruel world we live in today. Now that he’s gone, I strive to be more like my brother everyday.  I wish my brother could have understood what an amazing person he was, and how the world viewed him.

Brad had a lot of influence on this.  He had neglected him as a child, and doomed him as a ‘failure’ in life because of his lack of love for sports.  Austin was anything but a failure, but he never could convince himself otherwise.

I have a negative image of myself, and the type of people I chose to date can be tied back to my dad.  The unhealthy relationship Brad and my mom had, affected us kids in different ways.  After the divorce, Brad moved into a highly expensive townhouse with a new car, new image, new life.  Us kids did not fit into this picture.   Once I received a basketball scholarship to play college basketball,  I became Brad’s prodigy.

He would show his “love” by buying me things, then to only threaten to take them away the very next day. It was a very hard way to live with this negative influential person like this in my life. This kind of “relationship” I had with Brad led me down a path of unhealthy relationships with many people, mostly with the men I choose to date.  What is hard for me, still to this day is to form a healthy relationship.

Austin never dated, and I understand why.  He had no self confidence, because my dad gave him none his whole life.  He was so anxious and criticized by Brad with everything he did, I couldn’t imagine how he could approach dating in a positive way.  My heart aches that he could never experience any of those things as a young adult.

Writing this all down and connecting the dots makes me understand things to a whole new level.  Brad messed up my brother and I up quite a bit.  It made my brother not want to date, and it made me date disaster after disaster. I wish my brother would have experienced a lot more things in life.  He deserved to, and I know deep down he wanted to.  I don’t know if that would have made him happier, maybe momentarily.

That is all I can write for this week, until next time.

 

 

 

 

 

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