My Life, my family

ronk

ronk

Member
My family currently consists of three different families that are not very well blended. I was the youngest son of the original family. I had two older brothers. My Dad was a minister, and the sole source of income for the family. My Dad has never been "emotionally supportive." Dad was very physically abusive into my teens. My mother was rarely available to us for the kind of support we needed. Mom would often tell us strange tales designed to turn us against our Dad. Our mission was to save her marriage and her soul by resisting my Dad. Dad was allegedly an Agent of Satan. Sometimes Mom got sick, and had to go to "the hospital." Sometimes she was dragged out of the house while we slept. Once she was dragged out of the house twice in the same day.

My brothers and I did our best to survive. We often stuck together, at least physically. But none of us was capable of really being a good brother. I sought my own friends and romantic relationships. I watched as my middle brother succumbed to alcoholism and drove us away with his anger. I watched as he disappeared for almost 3 years, only to return a shaken shadow of his former self. He lost a leg to diabetes and gangrene. He died 7 years later, in his sleep. I was glad he passed away in peace.

My oldest brother was always more removed. He is extremely self-centered. He doesn't want to engage in the normal routines of sharing and caring. He's often hostile. He moved to Minnesota in the 1970s and has remained here ever since. I moved around over 30+ years, pursuing my own life, dreams and struggles. My parents moved back to Minnesota a few years ago. They're near the adult children of Dad's 3rd wife. I moved back to Minnesota to be near them. I moved into the building where my brother lived. Every day I struggled between his negative treatment and my desire to love my brother. He finally had to move to a nursing home for better health care. Now I'm trying to look for one last move to be closer to family.

All too often I've talked to my Dad about my struggles with my brother. Dad apparently thinks my feelings and needs don't matter. I refuse to accept that attitude.
 

I’m really sorry you had to endure this. It’s very sad. Do you have any extended family or friends?
Have you considered councilling of any kind? Sometimes that helps.
I came from an abusive household also and it has a direct impact on your life and how you process things. I did however get much counselling which helped please I am with a man who spoils me now.
I hope you get the relief you are looking for.:love_heart:
 
Keesha, over the years I've had group therapy and some individual counseling. I'm on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds.

Despite all the previous problems, my Dad has worked hard to be supportive in many ways. He encouraged one brother to get into treatment for Chemical Dependancy. Dad has often provided money to us when we needed help. He's often been quite generous with gifts. Dad invited me to an early birthday celebration at a local restaurant. Dad asked me about my search for a new apartment to be closer to him. Dad offered to drive me to any appointments I might have in the apartment search. Our story is not over. We've had our struggles, but emerged, with hope.
 

There is a good side and a bad side to everyone. Even adults can change over time. Sounds like your dad is trying harder to show you his good side these days. I hope that continues and you gain a good relationship.
 
Similar situation in my family, except it was my mother who was the abusive one. My father let her get away with it because of his screwed-up priorities; it was more important for him to have a woman than his kids' safety. Of the four kids, my brother turned out to be the worst - convicted felon, thief, scam artist, no feeling for anyone but himself. My sister is a wound-up spring - always angry, ready to strike out & hating just about everyone. My half sister (from my mom's first marriage) is nice because she wasn't raised by my mom. My mom abandoned her in Europe when she was 5 months old; I didn't know she existed until I was 16. My mom had to explain who she was only because she was coming to stay with us for a week. I vowed to be nothing like my parents or siblings.

I consider most of my family to be examples of nature's carelessness.
 
ronk said:
Keesha, over the years I've had group therapy and some individual counseling. I'm on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds.

Despite all the previous problems, my Dad has worked hard to be supportive in many ways. He encouraged one brother to get into treatment for Chemical Dependancy. Dad has often provided money to us when we needed help. He's often been quite generous with gifts. Dad invited me to an early birthday celebration at a local restaurant. Dad asked me about my search for a new apartment to be closer to him. Dad offered to drive me to any appointments I might have in the apartment search. Our story is not over. We've had our struggles, but emerged, with hope.
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Oh I understand there’s a flip side to every situation. The circumstances that you wrote about were quite gut wrenching so I can’t help but empathize with you and wish you a healthier relationship. I really admire and appreciate your positive healthy attitude. That’s speaks volumes.
 
My Dad wrote his autobiography many years ago, and shared a copy with me. He related one chilling incident that happened after the birth of my oldest brother. My parents were driving from Vermont to Arkansas where Dad attended college. They'd stopped at a motel, and Dad went out to run an errand or something. Dad returned to the motel room, and found my brother all alone and crying. Dad eventually found Mom in the local jail. She'd had a breakdown. I forget the details, but she must have gone outside and done something to attract attention. This would have been around 1949. I believe the police understood the situation, and treated her with respect. They put her in a cell to protect her.

When I was a teenager, one of my brothers and I visited my Mom in Vermont (after the divorce). Mom said at time she would go "nuts," and go to a motel room. She'd start a fire, as some sort of ritual to attract Satan. Something like that. She mentioned one time when the State Police chased her to the house where she lived with my Grandfather. They blocked the driveway, but she drove onto the lawn, and got past the police.
 
Sorry you had such a miserable life. You're better than me because I wouldn't want to be anywhere near them. I hope that you can get the help you need (in whatever form is best) and that you can find peace. I believe everyone deserves to be loved and happy.
 

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