Summarizing Brian

He wasn’t a huge part of most of my life. That’s just a fact. Nit a sentiment.

When I was a toddler though I couldn’t escape. We lived in a small house in Lyndhurst. The second floor was a shared bedroom. No bathroom. An attic type room split in two. I don’t think there was a door. There was a long connected closet. Brian and his friends had free rein to terrify and terrorize me. He is five years older than me. So when I was a toddler he would have been old enough to recognize my fear. It was always on purpose with no remorse. He’s never had remorse. I used to have night terrors when we lived there. Screaming in the night so my parents would end up running upstairs. That was Brian and his friends.

I don’t have clear memories of many of the scenarios of fear. Just the shift from normal to terror. I remember staged deaths and injuries, and him and his friends exposing themselves.

3, 4, 5 year old me was just scared. I doubt Brian was ever in trouble. I’m sure my parents blamed me. I don’t have to hear why they found me defective and why they did not separate me from him.

They never stopped scapegoating me, so I he terrorized me the entire time we lived there, I had nightmares for decades. But Brian has no remorse for causing so much harm.

Eventually we moved to Hudson and I got my own room. For years after that I barely remember him around. Thankfully, he had no interest in being a brother. There was a short time he got religious. lol.

He got preachy occasionally during that time because I listen to metal. I had a friend who liked to pull some stupid pranks on him. I wasn’t going to object. I never talked to her or anyone about the nightmares and my fear of him. It still felt like someone backing me up. It was completely harmless stuff, not like his brutal terrorizing a toddler. But it was nice to at least see him affected.

He went to college. I was alone for a bit. It was weird. My parents would hang out in the family room and be a little present when Brian lived at home. Not after.

It’s definitely a truth that predators see neglect kids from miles away. Instead of being isolated at home. I crashed at a friends house. For about a year, maybe more. Every once in a while I would see one of my parents sitting at her house talking to her mother. I don’t think they even gave her money for anything.

Then I had to move in with my dad and creepy Karen.

I actually reached out to my brother a couple of times after that. I wrote him a couple of letters at college. Talking about the stepmother. No, it didn’t do anything.

But I can’t help that part of me that thinks if connecting. My dad mocks my empathy. But it’s part of me. Even the worst people have gotten chances to fix things with me.

No one in my ‘family’ has ever had remorse or concern for me. But I still can’t help doing that!

Brian invited me to a sibling weekend at Kent state. I was excited. I’m thinking I’m actually going to have a good thing with him.

Drinking, vandalism, stealing a poor janitors cleaning stuff. And the night ended with Brian going off to fuck some other guys girlfriend.

So gross. I cried for months every time I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about it. Can’t explain my feelings about it. But he sucks.

Years later Brian and Shannon invited us to their place. They had a table set outside. Covered in yellow jackets.

Now I was stung by yellow jackets until I passed out at camp one year. I have limited memory of the pain of the stings. However, my memory of running in fear through the woods is VIVID! Then black. I had a couple moments of wavy kind of consciousness. My mother was fuzzy and looking at me really strangely and we were walking to the car. At camp, a doctors, hospital??

Anyway, even if I hadn’t been stung until I blacked out earlier in my life a fear of a table full of wasps is valid. Personally I would never force someone to join the waspy feast or sit by yourself. That’s what they chose though. They had other people there. (I’d like to tell them what scum I think they are)

All of these grown people made individual points to say loudly. It’s not that bad. Or walk by me and say, it’s amazing how they don’t really bother you even though they are all over…

Me, I would not exclude someone like that. As I got older I realized the majority of people would not do that to someone. But Brian found yet another way to cause me harm, embarrassment, unwarranted shame, and fear. Shannon and their friends were comfortable going along with it!

Not good people

Then my mom died.

He kept saying he wanted nothing to do with it. And wouldn’t let the estate end for years and years. I can’t try to write about that again right now. I don’t know what anyone was doing, how it wouldn’t end. I had no say, information, no involvement. Just yelling things at me I don’t know what about still. It started to seem like it was never going to stop. Years and years. I never mourned. She died and so quickly the gaslighting, yelling, confusion overwhelmed everything.

I don’t know what is wrong with those people that they can live with themselves. I’ll never understand wanted to hear someone cry, eating to destroy the life of someone you’re supposed to protect and love.

They consistently used my vulnerability to isolate, gaslight, bully. The joy they feel when they see or hear my pain has always been obvious in their eyes and posture. They smirk and straighten happily when I am falling apart in front of them.

It’s always been that way.

None of these people have ever had kindness for me. It’s only judgement and harshness.

They have always had power over my life. As a child and younger sister my life’s direction in the beginning was in their hands. so many times I would start to find my way out of the trauma they cause. I could be putting together a life, start to look for reasons they are wrong about me. If they have an in, or notice my having some confidence. They’ve stopped it.

Over and over I’ve had to pull myself out of the pain of the destruction.

My dad empowered the violent man. I know it. He minimizes my worth and slanders me. I told Ken I need him to stand by my boundaries because I saw what this violent man is right away.

I was right, of course. Some of us can see people like that.

Now it’s been years of violence.

I’ve even tried to get ‘family’ to stop the scapegoating me and try to see me as a person because I need help .

Eventually all of these people will pay for the abuse. Those who have looked away or joined in the abuse to be ‘cool’ or accepted by the bullies. They will pay their price too.

Brian and Shannon go around part of Cleveland clubs and minor society whatever. I hope there are perceptive people around who see past their fraud and their slander. Brian has been an abuser and a monster his entire life.

Hopefully I don’t feel like writing about him again. There are a lot of memories that are missing the main fright though. If they start coming through after I get some of the other stuff out I guess I’ll write them down too.

I want to spend some time writing about my grandmother. Something good to put into words. Tomorrow or soon.

There’s a six month old puppy cuddled up here tonight. I’m going to have to drag us and her fluffy brother outside before I fall asleep.