Okay, so my brothers screwed me.
Here’s an old post I want you to read, dated last April 17. Please, right-click on the link so that it will open in a separate tab.
Now, if I recall correctly, this was after the bombing and before our little 19-year-old pal came to town, that is, Watertown, Massachusetts, and made our cops big heroes and for the rest of us, I guess….Well, I got my own story that everyone pretty much ignored. That’s cuz I’m nobody. As I said, of course, a few people on Facebook suddenly realized I live in Watertown and asked if I was alive and then I lost my two seconds of fame.
Meanwhile, I was rather scared about what my two brothers had in store. No clue about what they were trying to pull off or what on earth their motives were.
Well, for one thing, I don’t think I mentioned this: There was a day in there that Bro #1 showed up at the house. I wasn’t really sure why. He showed up and stayed maybe 20 minutes with his dog, just rambled, and then left. It seemed rather purposeless. Yet I hadn’t seen him for maybe two years. So I asked myself, “Why is he bothering? There’s a motive. He wants something from me.”
Then they are both vague. Manipulative, and vague, insisting that I see my mom, and at the same time, they KNOW I cannot see her. Why? Although I absolutely hate the concept of a person/place/thing being TRIGGERING, if there’s any one thing in my life being a trigger, it’s the presence of my mom.
Yep, and those two boys, my brothers, sure know it. So did they care? No. They needed me to see her. They had a motive. This was so important to them, that is, for me to see her, that it was superseded the damage that it did to me.
Here is how the visit went:
The following are the subsequent DAMAGES, I suppose, the domino effect of my mom’s visit. I say this taking full responsibility for my actions, yet please be aware that my brothers acted out of insensitivity and read on to the end. Don’t judge me just yet.
1) I immediately made plans to move away from town. That’s how miserable I was becoming here. Not that anyone here cared or was sorry to see me making desperate plans to leave or encouraged me to stay.
2) My plans very quickly fell through. I was worse off with my eating disorder and tried to get help. All the places I called fell through and locally everything fell through. Even my own treatment team failed me. Someone local recognized I needed help right away. I was resorting to literally poisoning myself every night to the point of knocking myself out so that I wouldn’t binge eat. However, the local advocate, too, failed me and didn’t make the calls she was supposed to make, and my CBFS worker was lazy, as usual, and did nothing.
3) I’ll spare you the other two posts I was going to include but add this one:
I was trying very hard to reach out but didn’t want to be “rescued” cuz I was scared that meant “hospital,” which, to my experience, had in the past been “abuse.” Sadly, that was what ended up happening.
4) One brother was within driving distance of me while I was in the hospital/prison and was probably even in town while I was there. He never came to visit. The other one called me, only to insult me the whole time I was there. No way was I going to let either one of them speak to the “doctors.” These boys don’t care.
No, they don’t care. Know what they wanted me for? My signature. No kidding. My family is so small that there’s no one else to sign this legal form so that my bro can take guardianship and get my mom into a nursing home.
So that was the motive. My bro’s initial visit was to “check me out.” See if I was halfway sane. Bringing her over here was to prove that I’d been in her presence. That way, I’d have legal grounds to sign this form and make some statement saying I agree that she’s mentally not okay enough to handle her own affairs and that he should take legal guardianship.
Okay, let’s put it this way. I’m on my mom’s side here. Yep, I am. I have seen my mom once since 2010, that awful visit in April a year ago, and I’d say since 2007 or so I’ve only seen her briefly, 20 minutes now and then. I haven’t seen whether she can manage her affairs and I am not a “social worker.” I don’t have a degree in it, right? That takes a specialized master’s degree with a license. Heck, I’ve seen the bad job those CBFS workers do, and I have had far less contact with my mom than the pittance of a job they did with me. I feel I am not one to judge, and I refuse to do so.
My mom is strong. Do you hear me? She has strength beyond superhuman. She survived the death of her beloved husband. She raised three kids. Three strong kids. And if you don’t think I’m strong, think again. I’m alive.
My mom survived an eating disorder. Enough said.
So I need something cute, legal, and to-the-point to say to my bros. I was used. Used. Used. Tossed aside.
Hmmmm….Should I sign with an x? Or tell them I’m too broke right now and cannot afford a pen and return postage? Or maybe tell them I’m in the process of a legal name change…can they wait till the name change goes through?
Actually, what I will do is to say that I’m locked up right now indefinitely. I have not yet received the mailing. For HIPAA reasons, my two bros will never find out where…or, of course, where not. Ha ha.