I called my mom today and talked to her.
I told her about the oppressive feeling in my chest when I start losing more weight...
I asked her questions about that time when Duane lived with us.
I remember quite a few things...but there are blank spots.
And my mom reminded me of something I had forgotten.
She reminded me that he liked to wait a few days till you felt the danger had passed to dole out unexpected punishment.
He would act like everything was fine..
Then suddenly it wouldn't be fine.
It was typically violent.
He was very good at scaring the shit out of people.
When we were 'disciplined'...it would usually be at night.
Typically after he had gotten home, after he had gone to the bar..gotten drunk..gotten angry and then wanted to know who had done something.
It could be something like eat his candy bar out of the refridgerator.
As I recall that was a three hour ordeal.
Us sitting with our backs to our bunkbeds on the floor...while he took turns snapping the belt in our faces or whacking us upside the head to get one of us to 'confess'.
At that point my older brother and I had a silent understanding...neither one of us was saying shit.
Then when he was about to start in with the belt my mom would come in and draw him off and they would go at it out in the hall.
Finally he would stomp off and go to bed.
Sometimes he started hitting before mom interceded..
by intercede I mean 'throw herself on his back and have a fistfight'.
IT depended on the situation.
But it was always at night.
It was always unexpected, or out of the blue.
Somedays it was if we chewed too loudly at the kitchen table..
or were laughing and he thought we were laughing at him.
or if we ran..
or left a mess.
or didn't flush the toilet.
And as I was talking about it..
about all the emotions we weren't allowed to express.
We were never allowed to be happy..or we were laughing at him.
We were never allowed to be sad, because we looked 'stupid'.
We weren't allowed to be anxious..like when my mom was diagnosed with cancer he told her she was an idiot to worry. That she looked like a dumbass because she was crying.
That she needed to abort my brother.
If we chewed loudly, or took too much food he would call us pigs..
Then he would dump food on my plate and make me eat the whole plate because I was a "pig' and I should eat like one.
(thinking about that..next time I get the urge to eat like I shouldn't...I should keep that in mind. I control what I eat now.)
And I realized that feeling in my chest was huge and tighter...
and it was rage.
Maybe I am afraid of the depth of my anger.
I have seen what anger does when you do not control it.
He was an Angry, Vile Fucker.
And quite frankly..I don't know what to do with this anger.
It's just there.
There is no recompense for what he put us through.
My older brother's life is ruined...
He killed my older brother with abuse that turned into a bitterness and an anger that my older brother couldn't let go of.
I don't want to harbor this anger in me.
I want to let it go.
But I don't know how much is in there.
If there is fear in here..which there may well be when I am not conscious at night.
That just makes me angrier.
I asked my mom if she ever thought of killing him.
She said 'Yes, but I couldn't get the gun loaded'.
This was after he raped her.
She was too upset to load the gun.
I am glad...or I wouldn't have had a mom at all.
I am angry.
But I have to move forward.
I had a great day of eating and exercising.
I did 45 minutes and then practiced elbows and knee throws on a heavy bag.
That was cathartic.
It may become addictive.
I will be going to the gym every day from here on out.
I do better at the gym.
I do better being honest.
I will get free of this.
Have a great night guys.