Today it was very difficult to realize that it has been 2 years since I have seen the 2 siblings that I grew up with. My brother is 16 now and he has a girlfriend and my sister is 11 but, I haven’t been able to even talk with them. Why, you may ask; I cannot go to my mothers without her making everything worse. She always brings up the past and she is continuously uncivil. It pains me every day that I can’t even talk to them because of her. She has made it quite clear that I have to see her to talk to them but, my therapist and everyone I know has confirmed that I am better when I do not see her or speak with her.
I think the worst part is that my siblings and I have always had a very close relationship. Due to my mother’s nymphomania and her men, I ended up raising them on my own. Once I turned about 7, I took the role of helping to care and raise my brother and keeping him as ignorant of our mother’s actions as possible. It seemed normal to him and my later sister that I took care of everything. I was always their confidant and I helped them with everything that I could. I was their ‘mother’, tutor, and friend. I was never allowed to go outside and play or have friends so, my siblings were my life for most of my adolescent years.
I remember one day, I had left for school with my brother (I had to walk him to school then walk 5 miles to my school because they did not want woken up) and left my sister in her highchair. This was apparently the wrong thing to do in her eyes. I was grounded for 4 months (the entire summer) because I left my sister with food in a high chair. Mind you, I was only about 15 at the time and I was unsure what to do. If I tried to wake my mother, it would go to no avail because she was being drugged to a near comatose state. If I tried to wake her boyfriend at the time, I would be beaten for getting him up earlier and he wanted. This is the same man that dragged me by my hair for biking to school in the rain and then beaten. What would you do in this situation?
I remember when my brother had a project for school, he named me as his hero/role model and I about burst into tears. My mother got really jealous and for the next month she wouldn’t allow me to do anything that I wanted. It was like being grounded without actually being grounded. This wasn’t something that was abnormal either; she consistently would ground me or blackmail me to ensure that I would do as she wanted. Blackmail was a particular favorite of hers but, that wasn’t the bad part; she would blackmail me with things that I hadn’t done. She would threaten to tell my grandmother or whoever that I did things that were in fact done by her. I was always blamed for doing things that was done by her. For example, she wrote to her boyfriend in jail and told everyone that it was me who was getting in contact with him and really wanted him back. To be honest, I have no idea how people believed his to be true because I was the one that sent him to jail. He had beaten my brother, sister, mother, and myself. The only reason I didn’t end up being killed was due to my martial arts training. He was a marine and very strong. In the end, I ended up breaking his arm, leg, ribs, jaw, and causing him to blackout because he would not stop. I went to school the next day with bruises on my neck from being choked and several bruises and cuts all over my body. Thank goodness for my science teacher reporting it and helping me through it.
I miss my brother and sister so much. When I was emancipated, I would return to my mothers to see them. My brother for the first year would never leave my side when I showed up. He would remind me over and over that he loved me and that I was his favorite. At home, he was required to act as if our 6 step siblings were our real siblings but we barely knew them. They were quite cruel to them and I would always have to help them cope with it. My sister unfortunately went from being slightly behind to several years behind. She was always slow but with patient assistance, she would pick up things fairly well but, my mother refused to take the time to help her. She was then counted as retarded when in fact, she is not getting the one on one help she needs. I know this because every time I would come over and help her with her work, she would understand it. I worry for them but, I can’t see them until they are 18 years old. This hurts me more than I can explain.
Sorry for the random blurb of information but, free writing is the best way for me to tell you without breaking down. Thank you for reading and have a good night/day.