Today, I feel great. Actually, I felt great the entire month. It’s a new start and a new year. I’ve made it to 2017 in one piece. I don’t know how I’ve come this far but I’m here. I’m still alive and breathing. Now for the hard shit.
A lot of my memories have been blocked out. Like, I can’t remember everything that’s happened to me as a child. Well, now I’m worried about my brother. He also suffers from Bipolar. Except his is Bipolar II. I have Bipolar I. The “bad” one everyone seems to say. I’ve kept my mind preoccupied with reading books and writing books. Books give me an escape from reality. It isn’t a secret that I didn’t have a great childhood or teenage life. Some people have it bad. There are some things I remember and a ton of memories that remain suppressed. I can’t remember things. Maybe that’s from being traumatized. I don’t know if it’s the brain’s way of coping with trauma.
Anyway, my brother (who will remain nameless to protect his identity) isn’t stable. I’m better than he is and that’s hard to admit. Books, my kids, and my husband are my life lines, if that makes sense. My brother on the other hand, the one I looked up to as a child, isn’t doing well. He left his wife to marry another woman. Well, that marriage didn’t work. So he married the second wife and left her for the first wife. Still with me? Now for Christmas, he’s left the first wife to go back to the second wife. If that isn’t Borderline mixed in with Bipolar, I don’t know what else is. Anyway, we had to console the first wife. We still love the first wife. They have two kids together, who are now adults. I still see them as little kids. I guess that’s part of being an aunt. I adore them and love them. My heart breaks for them. She talked to someone else and my brother lost his shit. He left her for the second wife. It’s a real Jerry Springer episode and I wish I could make this shit up.
My brother is spiraling out of control. His mind is lying to him and he refuses to listen to any of us. He needs help like ASAP. He’s wanting to quit his job and do things that aren’t him. He’s bought two cars and untold amount of credit debt. He’s lost his house and it’s a mess. He wanted to throw grandma’s pictures away. That isn’t like him. My brother and I fought over those pictures. Now, they’re mine. Stuff he isn’t concerned with that he used to enjoy and love, he’s giving it away. He’s cut off all conversation with us and I’m upset.
My brother also dropped a bombshell on us. He announced that he was sexually molested as a child. My mother, of course, denies it. Something familiar stirred in my brain. Something inside me confirms is allegations of sexual molestation. Neither of us can remember anything. To tell you the truth, I don’t want to know. She immediately goes on defense saying that she was always there with us! That allegation is untrue! She wouldn’t let any one near us! Well, that’s a lie. I can remember her leaving us with various people to work. Or worse, leave us with our father. Every time I go to remember it, something blocks my memory. It’s frustrating. Even my older sister has said something about sexual molestation. How could three of us be lying? Something happened to us and neither of us can remember anything. It’s like instant amnesia. Do I want to know? It makes a ton of sense of the things I’ve done. Why I’ve done the things I’ve done. It explains a lot. I don’t know if I want to uncover anything. I’m scared to uncover anything. I want to sweep it under the rug and move on. But, I still have this habit to check in on my kids at all times. I lock the doors and make sure the doors stay locked. I’m double checking even triple checking to make sure the doors are locked. I can’t stand elevators or small rooms without lights. I can’t stand headlights. With therapy, it can be unlocked. I don’t think I’m ready for that. To hear him say something like this… something in my soul screams out that it’s true! What he’s saying is true!
All I can say is that it only takes less than five minutes for something bad to happen to a child. I don’t understand how a mother cannot and won’t seriously consider child molestation. I call it child rape. That’s what it is. Ever since my brother dropped the bomb on us, my mind has had these awful night terrors. I wake up screaming for my husband. The images are distorted. I’m waking up in tears. I have to force myself to go to sleep. My nightmares make Stephen King novels seem like child’s play. A walk in the park. They are terrible nightmares. They are vivid and in color. I’ve only had two black & white dreams. 99% of my dreams are in full color. Some take me back to old places, I used to live. My husband comforts me and tells me everything is going to be fine. I can’t help but want him here. As my warm blanket of protection. I feel safer when he’s home. I trust my husband with my life. It’s hard for someone with Borderline to give up that trust. We don’t trust many if any people. That’s just the way our minds work. It’s hard to trust and love people.
As for my brother, his second wife (divorced but getting back together), has got him a therapy appointment. He needs to be hospitalized. I have begged other family members to tell him to get him into a hospital. He’s out of control. This is that crucial time, suicide can happen. He’s thought about it often. I know that for a fact. I wish I could ease his pain. I wish I could convince him to let go of the past. But, he has to do that on his own. I can’t help him anymore. I can’t look up to him like that anymore. I love him but he has to arrive at the spot I’m at on his own. It took me many years to feel this comfortable in my own skin. Even my husband has noticed the changes in me. I’m not angry anymore. I’m just chillaxing.
I found ways to control the rage. The endless rage and for the most part, my anxiety is down. I’m worried about my brother but he’s got to take care of himself. I can’t get him there. I love him and will always love him. But I don’t need him to drag me down with him. I need to move forward. I’m almost there. To peace and serenity. I need peace in my life. I deserve it and I am good enough for love and happiness. I found my love and passion for books. I’ve stayed away from Fox News, CNN, Headline News, and whatever craptastic media there is. I don’t need my world to be filled with negativity or violence. As for my childhood, I need to keep peeling the onion and releasing those shackles off my feet. No more. I don’t care. I want to move on. It’s over and done. What’s done is done. I don’t want to keep my mind stuck in the past. It isn’t good for me, my husband, or my children. I want to drive down a road on a sunny day with the wind blowing through my hair and the sun kissing my face. That is eternal peace for me. The worst is over. The nightmare is over. It’s time to live.