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disappointed_lesbianOnce I'd dozed off after my typical fifth-hour awakening early this morning, I had a dream about my dysfunctional family. I was young again (perhaps eighteen), it was as if I was seeing us all as we were years ago, and my dad was beating my youngest brother, who was about five. This didn't happen in real life; I didn't recognize the home we were in.
I decided I'd had enough of my dad's violence, went into the room with a stick, and grabbed my crying sibling. As usual, the other adults in the household did nothing to stop the abuse. I told my dad he wasn't going to hurt my brother again. My dad decided to throw us both out. There was some discussion, then I started packing a suitcase, and the dream gradually faded out.
I woke up feeling quite content with my conduct in this dream. As dreams about my dad have trailed off over the years, I've become more heroic in them. But with wakefulness came the harsh reality that my brother is dead. Our dad died suddenly, succumbing to complications of the diabetes he didn't even know that he had, and the family started falling apart. My brother's mother abandoned him and his sister, my half-sister, and they eventually ended up living with their mother's cousin. I think they got separated from our other siblings, who went to live with our eldest half-brother. I had shipped out to boot camp several months before my dad got sick.
My brother started acting out violently and eventually ended up in a mental institution, where he committed suicide.
I didn't save him.
I used to sort of think, I still sort of think, 'oh well, another male ruins his life with his own violent behavior.'
but
He was about five when this started, he lost his father, then his siblings, his mother, our house, and his whole home life and daily routine in short order, then went to live with a stranger. I have no idea how he was treated by his mom's cousin. One of the last times I spoke to his sister, she told me with disgust that he'd been wearing a pink shirt the last time she'd seen him, and puzzle pieces started falling into place in a pattern that suggested that he may have been gay, and he would certainly not have had any support from our garbage family.
It's difficult for me to feel any sympathy for males who violently lash out at others over their own emotional problems, unless they are very small children. It's an alien biology.
I decided I'd had enough of my dad's violence, went into the room with a stick, and grabbed my crying sibling. As usual, the other adults in the household did nothing to stop the abuse. I told my dad he wasn't going to hurt my brother again. My dad decided to throw us both out. There was some discussion, then I started packing a suitcase, and the dream gradually faded out.
I woke up feeling quite content with my conduct in this dream. As dreams about my dad have trailed off over the years, I've become more heroic in them. But with wakefulness came the harsh reality that my brother is dead. Our dad died suddenly, succumbing to complications of the diabetes he didn't even know that he had, and the family started falling apart. My brother's mother abandoned him and his sister, my half-sister, and they eventually ended up living with their mother's cousin. I think they got separated from our other siblings, who went to live with our eldest half-brother. I had shipped out to boot camp several months before my dad got sick.
My brother started acting out violently and eventually ended up in a mental institution, where he committed suicide.
I didn't save him.
I used to sort of think, I still sort of think, 'oh well, another male ruins his life with his own violent behavior.'
but
He was about five when this started, he lost his father, then his siblings, his mother, our house, and his whole home life and daily routine in short order, then went to live with a stranger. I have no idea how he was treated by his mom's cousin. One of the last times I spoke to his sister, she told me with disgust that he'd been wearing a pink shirt the last time she'd seen him, and puzzle pieces started falling into place in a pattern that suggested that he may have been gay, and he would certainly not have had any support from our garbage family.
It's difficult for me to feel any sympathy for males who violently lash out at others over their own emotional problems, unless they are very small children. It's an alien biology.
