Siblings

Would you rather?

/ Outrunning my demons / 3 Comments

Would you rather…be hurt or watch someone you love get hurt?

I’ve been overthinking again.

Maybe the dreary weather has been making me all dreary inside.

It was my childhood.

I feel alone.

If I said I grew up with an alcoholic parent, many of you could relate. But my parents rarely drank. It wasn’t that.

How could you understand?

My autistic/schizophrenic brother Matt hurt me again and again. He threatened me with a knife. He kicked, clawed, bit, hit, scratched, pulled my hair, and punched me on a regular basis without consequences.

My dad was either depressed, angry, or apathetic. He neither hit nor hugged me, but he tore me apart with his words.

My mother was more concerned about Matt than anyone else. If a person needed to pull Matt off of someone he was hurting, she was more concerned that their hands would grab onto him too tightly.

I lost my best friend from high school because Matt hurt her. I was the maid of honor in her wedding, but she wasn’t invited to mine. My mom said, “Oh well, you were going in different directions anyway.” But I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

I always defended my mother and her actions. I can’t seem to see that she did anything wrong.

I always demonized my dad. He never did anything right.

My parents fought a lot. Luke and I sided with my mom. Mark sided with my dad.

There must’ve been some coping mechanism in place to view someone as all bad or all good. Any thoughts to the contrary are declined. I can’t seem to break through it.

When Matt grew up, he threatened to hurt or kill our children at some time or another. Did I expect things to be any different?

How could I feel angry at Matt when he is severely mentally ill? His mind thinks like that of a young child forever.

So I walk this journey of healing alone, or so I think.

I was thinking about it this morning. My brothers Mark and Luke lived through this hell with me. I always thought I had it the hardest because not only was I expected to be a caregiver, I was at the receiving end of most of Matt’s attacks.

But then I thought about something else…

Is it easier to be hurt or is it easier to watch someone you love being hurt and not be able to do anything about it??

I know, I am starting to sound like the horrible ‘Would you Rather?’ game that my daughter has. Would you rather stab yourself in the eye with a needle or nail your hand to the table??

I would rather not be hurt at all. But, I would rather be hurt than to watch a loved one suffer and be powerless to do anything about it.

I recently came to the realization that my younger brothers are victims in this as much as I am. The sound of me crying is etched in their minds. They are haunted by the same demons.

It was my brother Luke’s birthday this week. I wished him a happy birthday and this is how he replied…when we have time, I would like to talk more in depth about when we grew up if you would be open to that.

We never really talked about it, our childhood, in depth.

He wanted to know if I would be open to talking…

YES!

I am not alone, my brothers were there right with me.

 

Moving on, part 2

/ Outrunning my demons / 1 Comment

It started a few years ago…the unrest in my house. My daughters shared a bunk bed in a small bedroom.

It was funny, my daughter was the only one to tour the college dorm rooms on campus and think they were big. She got a lot of strange looks.

After her first year of college and living with us over the summer, my daughter Angel said that she wasn’t going to come home anymore if she had to share a room with her sister.

We thought about moving over the years. It would be nice to have more room. Sharing a room wasn’t so bad when the girls were little. It became harder as they became teenagers. There was a lot of fighting. One was messy, the other was a clean freak. One liked silence to fall asleep, the other liked noise. One liked complete darkness, the other wanted a night light. We had to create a shower chart so the kids wouldn’t fight about that either.

We live in tight quarters. But we were able to live affordably. Our mortgage payment is only $500 a month. Some of you pay a lot more than that for a small apartment. Most of our furniture that we have now is from long deceased relatives…recliners, end tables, love seat, couch, TV, dresser, lamps, pictures on the wall, chairs…free. We bought a hutch and entertainment center from other relatives…cheap. We bought our kitchen table from a rummage sale…cheap. But it is all paid for.

We are moving into a house that will be 85% furnished. Good-bye to all of our old crap! I will miss it, though, even if it is all old and falling apart. I will miss the memories of my grandparents. I will miss seeing the trees that my grandma helped lovingly plant in my backyard. My grandparents are long gone now and won’t have any connection to my new house.

We’ve lived in our house over 18 years. We lived here longer than we lived in our childhood homes. Even though we are moving into our dream house, it is going to be hard to say good-bye. This is the house we raised our children in.

We are the second longest residing family living on our block. I remember when the subdivision across the street was a field.

I’ve been running the same route around my house for a decade now. I know how to avoid dogs. I developed a long standing regular routine.

We’ve always had good neighbors. People know us here.

I know the patterns on our street. I recognize the noises. I could find my way around in the dark.

Now we are being uprooted and everything is going to change. We are moving into unknown territory…a new community.

My daughter will be going to a new school. She is nervous about fitting in. Although not popular, Arabella is friendly and likable. As the school year is winding down, I find myself sad to be ripping her away from all of her friends that she has known forever. I am misty eyed about last concerts or team events.

Arabella is very excited to go to a new school. It takes away some of my fears. She will be going to one of the best public schools in the area. She knows some kids that go there already. I signed her up to take the classroom driver’s ed class this summer in hopes that she will make some new friends before school starts. Her old friends won’t be that far away.

My son is going to finish his senior year at the school he is at now. We will still attend the same church. Some things will remain the same, although it will be a longer drive.

I will miss my house. We made a lot of memories here.

I am very excited about the move, but change has always been a little scary for me.

Sometimes, though, change can be good.

Storms of Christmas past

/ Outrunning my demons / 1 Comment

This year my youngest daughter had her first high school choir concert on the day that my grandma died.

Let’s take a trip back in time to 1967. I wasn’t born yet. My mom was 19. My dad went off to Vietnam.

It was Christmastime. My grandparents were in the process of moving to a new town for my grandpa’s new job. My grandma was 43 and pregnant. Her oldest child, my aunt, was out of the house, married, and expecting her first child. My mom was in college. There were five children left at home and a new baby on the way.

My grandma wasn’t feeling well with her eighth pregnancy. She was on bed rest at the hospital but wrote letters to her family at the new house where no one knew them.

There was a snowstorm the night that she gave birth to a healthy baby girl. After the little baby girl took her first breath, my grandma took her last breath.

This month the baby girl turned 50. She had a big weight to carry the day she was born. She took the last breath of a mother of 8 when she took her first. I think she always felt guilty about it although no one could logically blame her for something not of her choosing. Then she took the life that her mother sacrificed to give her and made a big mess of it.

This month Uncle Rick threw my aunt a 50th birthday party before the choir concert. It was both a joyous and solemn occasion. Before the party, the siblings tearfully read the last letter that their mother wrote the night before she died. It wasn’t carefree and happy like the rest. It was as if she knew it would be her last.

At the choir concert that night, I sat with my mom on the 50th anniversary of her mother’s death. She told me that her mother was my age when she died and she was the same age as my oldest daughter. I felt sorrow for my mother. She really needed to have a mother in her life as the path she beat down was always rocky.

That night, I watched others perform my daughter’s songs from when she was in high school. My oldest daughter was not able to be there. It was hard to hear someone else sing ‘her’ songs. It hurt. Time was slipping by way too fast. It was also difficult to sit next to my mother on the anniversary of her mother’s death. I could feel the loss, the sadness, the nostalgia, the longing for something that was no longer there envelop me.

Run off

/ Outrunning my demons / 1 Comment

Today I had my first run after taking a week off. I ran 5 miles wearing an ankle brace. It wasn’t totally pain free, but it was feeling better than before. At this time, I decided to keep my leg in watch mode. I hate being in watch and see what happens mode. I want answers. I want solutions. I hate uncertainty.

I was doing some reading online about stress fractures. It said that women in their 40’s were more likely to get stress fractures from running due to brittle bones. Milk was a rarity in our house growing up, so I do worry about it.

Over the week I’ve had off of running, I could feel my mood plummet. There was one morning I woke up crying. I’ve wanted to withdraw from people and write my stories. I seem to feel the need to tell you the dreary and sad stories. But I don’t want to make you feel sad when reading them. It is a conundrum.

I’ve also felt edgy and irritable at times. I have to work extra hard to make sure my filter is on before I speak.

I got into arguments with my kids this morning which is unusual. I think it was justified.

I got into Arabella’s case for getting up 5 minutes before the bus came to pick her up. She didn’t even have time to take a shower.

I got into an argument with Alex too. Arabella and Alex are staying after school for after school activities. I asked Alex to bring Arabella home. He said that he didn’t want to wait for her since his activity let out before hers did. Now I have to pick her up.

I don’t ask a lot from my kids. But when I do ask, I expect them to do it. I usually don’t give them chores over the school year like I do in the summer. I feel very conflicted about this.

As children, my brothers and I had a long list of chores. At first, I worked outside with my brothers until I almost hurt myself carrying a really huge log to impress my parents. After that, I was no longer allowed to do outdoor work. As soon as I was tall enough to reach the clothes line, I was in charge of the family laundry. I also had to help my mother make meals…grating carrots, washing and cutting vegetables..simple boring stuff, and I was in charge of cleaning the kitchen.

There is a part of me that wants my kids to be children. I want them to have something I didn’t have, a childhood. There will be enough to do around the house when they are adults. They will figure it out.

Plus I am always fighting myself with wanting things to be done right. No one else knows how to do things right like I do. I really don’t know why I need to feel some sort of control over things that probably don’t matter. Who cares if the towels are folded wrong?? Or if the Teflon pan ends up in the dishwasher?? Apparently I do!

All I ask of my children is to keep a clean room and pick up after themselves a little. This is certainly not done up to my standards.

When I do ask for help, I expect a gracious response. Of course, I will help you mother. After all, I pay for my son’s gas for the car I bought for him to use. Although that may be coming to an end soon.

I tried to give my children everything I didn’t have and probably ended up spoiling them.

My son also said unkind words about his sister. He is now going out with a popular girl. He does not want to be seen with his unpopular sister. He said that he didn’t want to do her any favors, but I told him that it would be me he was helping. I have no sympathy for his embarrassment.

When I was his age, my brother was exposing himself to my friends. He also attacked my best friend which basically resulted in the end of our friendship.

What did you say about being embarrassed by your sister again?? Maybe I’ll throw that one in his face during our next argument.

I really need to get back into running hard core. I am starting to feel the bat $#!+ crazy coming on….!

 

 

Out on a limb

/ Outrunning my demons / 4 Comments

A couple of weeks back I became strangely fascinated by the trees in my yard. It was well into fall and some of my trees were bare and some of the leaves were yet to change color. How could this be??

I decided to go out on a limb. I traipsed around my yard with my phone in hand to snap a couple pics of my trees as the neighbor came out of her house. I think that she thought I was coming over for a visit. How odd to be hanging around the property line. Awkward!

I wondered how all of these trees could exist in the same environment of my yard but be so different..How could it be possible that some of the trees lost all of their leaves right away and some didn’t even change colors?

I spent a little too much time thinking about it…I thought, and thought, and thought…until I thought I figured it out.

Maybe it was because some of the trees were in the front of the yard and some of the trees were in the back. Maybe they had more water or less sun.

But, no, that wasn’t it.

How could it make sense?

Then I thought some more…

Maybe the trees were like my kids..They all grew up in the same environment, but turned out differently.

I wonder why that is…

I can understand why different types of trees are different…But how do you explain variations in the same kind of trees?

How can siblings that grew up with the same parents in the same environment be so different from each other??

 

 

Confirmed complications

/ Outrunning my demons / 2 Comments

In a few weeks, my youngest daughter will be confirmed. So far there are so few people attending that I might not have to clean my house.

My oldest daughter has to work late the night before confirmation. There is no way that she can switch with someone. She felt bad because she had the dates wrong on her calendar and told her sister she was coming home. Angel said that she was willing to get up at 4 AM and drive the 8 hour round trip just to attend the ceremony. I told her not to.

I called my brother Luke last night and his family is not coming either.

This past summer my brother Luke got a big promotion. He was thrown a huge party, but I didn’t attend. He mentioned bitterly after my apologies for not attending that he was upset his wife’s siblings attended, but his own siblings did not. I told him again that I was sorry. Paul and I had our 20th anniversary trip planned out before I even heard of his party.

Growing up, we were never encouraged to support our siblings endeavors. Luke didn’t attend my college graduation or party because he was too hungover. Granted, he was a teenager then and I am in my 40’s now. I am happy that he has a successful career. I felt bad that I couldn’t be there, but I wasn’t going to cancel our vow renewal anniversary trip. I guess he is mad at me now..

My dad and my brother Mark only attend social events that they are required to. You will never hear my brother Mark’s childhood story. It is locked away in some deep dark place to be buried with him.

Mark gave up drinking. He said that it made him feel better not to. He has stomach issues like me and half of the family. He was the one that started drinking the previous summer while we were up north at 6 in the morning. He said he gave up drinking on January 1st for health reasons, but it sounds like a New Year’s resolution to me. I am happy that he is feeling better.

I rarely saw my brothers at all this summer.

My brother Matt tore up the whole family this year. After he was taken off of his anti-psychotic meds because of liver strain, he started hallucinating again. He became fixated on Luke’s young daughters and expressed a desire to kill them. He was put back on the medicine, but it might take months for it to be fully effective again.

Before he was originally put on the medicine, he was fixated on hurting my daughter Angel. We had to limit their contact with each other, but he did hurt Angel on her 4th birthday. This was before he was placed in a group home. This started a time of deep isolation from my family. They spent weekends up north together, but I wasn’t included.

Matt has always fixated on hurting little girls. I should know, I was the first little girl. That was before we heard about the voices. This summer my mom had fear again. She was afraid to take Matt to his appointments because there might be little girls there. Little girls that he could hurt and she wouldn’t be able to stop him.

My brothers and I helped my mom take Matt to appointments when we were younger. We had to be hyper vigilant to signs that Matt might be getting agitated. My mom would try to make appointments when there weren’t little girls coming in to the doctor. But that didn’t always work. At times adults would bring little girls with them to appointments. Sometimes we had to sneak in through the back door. My brothers became quite effective in restraining Matt. It usually took a couple of people to pry him off.

This summer Matt was on lock down. He couldn’t go on trips to the library or to the bowling alley with his group. My mom became fearful of doctor appointments again. It was stressful up north with young kids playing next door. Matt talked to the voices this summer. He laughed like a mad man to whatever the voices said. He is starting to get better…but will he be able to be around the children for the holidays??

So, at this time, only my mom is attending Arabella’s confirmation besides our immediate family.

Paul’s mom and step-dad are Arabella’s sponsors. Paul’s mother passed away this year from cancer. Her husband Darryl moved on with life. Darryl recently told Paul all about his love life with his new girlfriend. It makes us very uncomfortable. We are not ready for someone new to take his mother’s place. We don’t want to meet a new lady at the confirmation. I’m not sure if Darryl will be there.

Whoever would’ve thought a confirmation could be so complicated??

The little waves that rock my boat

/ Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

I don’t feel much like writing today. I have been feeling somewhat down and unsettled lately. I’m not even sure why.

Why does it seem that when I lack motivation the normal everyday things seem twice as hard to do and half as enjoyable?

The weekend started out good. Friday night I fell asleep watching a movie. Apparently my body’s idea of relaxing is falling asleep. I also argued with my son that he needed to spend the night at home instead of at his friend’s since he was performing at state the next day.

Saturday my son performed wonderfully by playing a very difficult band solo at state and receiving a perfect score. After playing, the judge asked him if he thought about music as a future career.

It wouldn’t be our first child to receive a perfect score at state and decide to go into music. Oh, just what I need two unemployment musicians living in our basement. I did my part of trying to talk them out of it..LOL. It’s exciting to see them perform, to see where it might take them..

Then there is child number 3. She dropped out of band this year. She is starting to feel pressure from everyone to live up to her siblings’ success in music. She laments over being average.

Friday night I called my mom to see if she was going to watch Alex at state. Of course, the day before is too early to tell which way the wind is blowing and make a decision about whether or not to go. When I called my mom she was in crisis mode. Someone new is working at the group home and neglected to fill my brother’s prescription before he went home for the weekend. My mom went to pick Matt up and was notified of this 5 minutes before the pharmacy closed.

My mom did end up going along to state. She was my back up recorder of the performance. Good thing since my phone crapped out and decided not to record anymore after about a minute. I wanted to take my son’s instrument and smash my phone but that would be rather distracting.

After Alex performed at state, we decided to take him out to eat at the restaurant of his choice. We had a group going including Alex, our youngest Arabella, my husband Paul, his step-dad Darryl, my mom, and the accompanist. For our large group, we had to wait awhile for our table. My mom left right away stating she had to give Matt his medication and feed him. We all wanted her to stay. But no one else could take care of Matt like she can, not even my dad who stayed home with Matt, so she left.

I felt a little sad that she left. I watched Darryl and the accompanist laugh and have fun and thought that it should be my mom too. She shouldn’t be tied down for life.

Maybe that is the point that everything ended for me.

I felt hurt that my mom left. I took everything personally that people said to me.

My husband and son teased me about hanging towels on the clothes line. They don’t like their towels stiff, but I do. I was probably overreacting, but their comments upset me. It made me feel unappreciated. I felt like they wanted me to change the way I do things which I refuse to do. I find myself to be just as stubborn, stiff, and unbending as the towels.

Things spiraled down from there.

It is hard to live in a house where everyone knows my weaknesses. I am a bit of a control freak. I already told you that I have this ‘rule’ to turn the lights off in every room after I leave it. Sometimes people will do things to bother me like leave the lights on in an empty room or turn the lights on after I turn them off.

Why should I be allowed to control the lights in a house other people live in?

How can I remain calm in life’s big storms and still let little waves rock my boat?

It’s ridiculous I know…The meaningless things that I do to feel like I have an iota of control over my life. My crazy rules helped me through times of chaos and discord. I can’t seem to let go now even though I don’t need them anymore. Taking the little bit of control I have away from me or complaining about the stubborn way I do things really bothers me.

Who wouldn’t like a lady with a laundry fetish?

What they don’t realize is when they take my security blanket of control away from me I feel like I am once again that frightened little girl. No one seems to understand. I barely understand it myself.

Will I let my relationships get wrecked over lights and laundry?? Probably not, I can’t even fathom why it would bother me so much.

 

Autism’s sibling, journal 3 part 1

/ Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

Now I am ready to tell you about myself, my family, and you will understand everything..

Everyday Matt would be violent. He would bite me and claw up my arms. I have the scars to prove it, although they faded a little because he’s a little better. But it was awful. Everyday he would be uncontrollable. It was always me he hit.

Once he had this thing about men with beards. He would scream and be awful. Once Matt, mom, and I went grocery shopping and Matt saw a guy with a beard. He got really mad. When mom was checking out, she had to hold him down on the floor because he could hurt someone. 

Or how about the time when we had to move the knives because he took one out and threatened to stab my eyes out.

Or when my mom got a bloody lip because he threw his head back on her. She started crying and it really upset me when I heard her say, “What kid would do this to his mother?”.

The stress was unbearable.

I couldn’t have any friends over because they might have on a fragrance and he might react. So you could say that I never really had many friends over because he would hurt them or me. I couldn’t wear any hair spray or anything with a fragrance.

Other times he would hurt small kids.

We had to do different things. We had to get unfragranced soap, shampoo, deodorant, and laundry soap. We had to close the windows when there was an east wind because the auto exhaust would bother him.

He couldn’t leave the house. He had to eat special foods. We never had anyone over because Matt might hurt them.

He can’t read and when he was younger, he couldn’t talk. He would do weird things like grind his teeth and hit his head. He broke about 5 stereos, one of mine, one of mom’s, and the rest were his.

He couldn’t go swimming because of the chlorine. He would be wild for two or three days in a row. He threatened to run away.

Alissa, 1990

Over time, I have forgotten the magnitude of the stories written by a younger me.

To be honest, something has been scratching at my mind since I stirred up my demons.

My last post was on locker rooms of all things..Talking about locker rooms seemed to bother me more than it should have..Memories swirl through my mind. My mom taking a too old Matt into the girls locker room? There weren’t options back then like there are now. A too old screaming autistic boy in the ladies locker room would have been memorable back then, but I don’t remember more than a flicker.

There are whispers quietly echoing through my mind, but I can’t make out the words.

I am nervous as I type.

Do I really want to remember?

Suppertime sadness

/ Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

The tool box clanks on the floor…It’s 6 PM…Dad gets home from work…Supper is on the table…Matt and Luke are tied to their chairs with my mom’s apron…otherwise they don’t stay…

Dad bangs his fist on the table…This dog shit you call supper…He roars as he walks away…The TV is turned on in the next room…laughter on the screen…laughter from my dad…my mom cries…The boys struggle against their restraints…

My stomach hurts…I don’t want to eat…But I have to stay until all of my food is gone..

On a day like today

/ Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

DSC_0044.JPG

It happened on a cold December day like today.

It happened to a woman my age who had children the ages of some of my children.

I wonder what it would be like..to find out that I was pregnant unexpectedly. She was worried that her husband would be upset when she suspected. She told my mother that.

Her oldest child was already married and out of the house. Her youngest child was 8.

For a couple of months, her oldest child and her were pregnant at the same time.

It was in December many decades ago that her last child, a healthy baby girl was born.

My mom who was the second oldest, called her older sister the day after the baby was born.

“She’s dead”, my mom said. “The baby?”, asked her sister. “No, mom”.

Many decades, years, minutes, and seconds have passed since that cold December day. The oldest daughter has already passed away. Most of my aunts and uncles are reaching retirement age. But I still see them long for the mother that left them too soon. When they get together they still read the old letters she wrote. Tales of what was made for dinner the evening before. Stories about nothing important that makes the siblings laugh and cry.

I feel very thankful that I have had my mother in my life so long.

Paul and I are now approaching the loss of our first parent. It really forces us to face death. I thought about it a lot over the trip to Door County last month with my mother and a few of her siblings, especially when they spoke of the loss of their mother. (The picture above is of my mom and her sister).

My mother’s youngest brother, the 8 year old boy at the time of his mother’s death, said in Door County that some of his favorite movies today are the ones that his mother took him to see right before she died. It was really touching.

My oldest uncle was 16 when his mom passed away. I have a 16 year old son. He would be mortified if I told him I was pregnant. It is the age that most teenage boys don’t want anything to do with their mother. I suspect that my uncle felt the same way and felt guilty for wanting to separate from his mother especially after she passed away unexpectedly. He is currently going through a nasty divorce from a woman that I knew for my whole life to be my aunt. At this hard time, he yearns for his mother so much that he has been visiting a medium just to try to talk to her again. It is terribly sad.

My mother said to me many times growing up that she wished her mother was there. She knew that her mother would have helped her raise an autistic child.

I never met my grandma. I have only seen the impact she has had on her children. From this, I know that she was a good person.

I am so blessed to have my mother in my life for this long..