Been awhile since I've said anything here...
Once again, I find myself returning to the theme with which this journal was begun, years ago now: that of recovering as an abuse survivor. The cycle is so easy to fall back into: there is some comfort in familiarity, and one's past marks one as a susceptible target. It is further complicated when the abuser is a family member. Sometimes, a tradition of abuse within one's family can set the stage for a series of "out of the frying pan, into the fire" jumps from one abusive relationship to another over the years - looking for somewhere to escape from the unpleasantness of the situation at home, only to discover that the new situation was no better, sheepishly returning home to face more of the same.
For many years, my mother was the only advocate and guardian that I really had, and unfortunately, she had many blind spots of her own. She saw the abuse that came from her ex-husband (my father), and she saw when it came from outside the family. However, when it was her youngest son Matthew perpetrating the abuses, it was too easy for her to excuse it, dismiss it, deny it, and, when those failed, forgive it - over and over again. On at least two occasions, she had to have him removed from the family home for his habit of getting up in her face, becoming loud and overbearing, forcing her back into a corner, and refusing to back down - receiving restraining orders against him on each occasion. When he was married, he put his wife into the same position, and she also had to get a restraining order against him. While he was away at culinary school, he did the same to a roommate, who unfortunately allowed his machismo to get the better of him, leading him to punch my brother across the face, breaking his jaw - as my brother gleefully had the guy arrested, knowing full well that he himself had instigated the fight, but was untouchable because he refrained from initiating any physical violence.
When mom was diagnosed with advanced Pancreatic Cancer in summer 2006, she made arrangements for the family home to be passed jointly to Matt and myself, which was executed without complication. After she passed in early 2007, her life insurance money was used to pay off the mortgage, leaving the deed to the house free and clear, with myself and Matt as joint owners of the house and property. The intention was that we would jointly maintain the property, dividing costs and responsibilities.
Because I subsist on a disability income, combined with the severe anxiety disorder that disables me in the first place, the very idea of having to make other living arrangements for myself was more than I could handle, and considering that option led to frequent breakdowns. Part of the nature of my anxiety condition is that I cannot cope with confrontation, and even a simple interview will frequently induce a severe anxiety attack, unless I am in the company of an advocate to provide emotional support.
Matt decided that attending culinary school would be a good way to advance his career options, and offered assurance that if I could cover the cost of maintaining the house while he was away, he would pay me back after he finished school and got a job. He also convinced our other brother Michael (career US Navy corpsman, active duty) to co-sign the student loan for him, with assurance that it would just be a formality, and the loan payments would be made punctually, leaving no liability on Mike.
While Matt was away at culinary school, I was able to manage the costs of maintaining the household (utilities, basic maintenance, groceries, property taxes, etc), but I found myself needing some help with household chores (cooking, cleaning, etc). Matt agreed to the idea of me inviting a friend (Jaqie) to stay there with me to help out, and said that he was considering moving to a larger city after completing his culinary degree instead of coming back to the house at all - thus implying that the arrangement would be indefinite. Jaqie is mildly autistic, highly introverted, and has some anxiety issues of her own; as such, most of her time was spent withdrawn into her room.
After culinary school, Matt arranged for externship locally and returned home, on the logic that it would be less costly to share the maintenance expenses of the lien-free house with me, rather than to pay rent in another location, which seemed fair and reasonable enough. Not long after his return home, he became increasingly hostile toward Jaqie, expressing discomfort with having her in his home, and demanding that she should be more sociable toward him, rather than hiding out in her room. When she did come out and try to socialize with him, including inviting him into her guild in WoW, he frequently became threatening and verbally abusive toward her. She expelled him from her guild, and he responded by loudly and violently demanding that she leave his home immediately. This incident escalated to the point where law enforcement were called to intervene. By the time they arrived, he changed his demeanor completely, asserting that he had been the victim, no threats or abuse were occurring, and that the problem was the 'mental illness' of the anxiety disorders that both Jaqie and I have, causing us to make paranoid accusations. Since nothing could be proven, and it was merely hearsay, the deputies left with no action taken. Because it had been made abundantly clear that law enforcement would not (or could not) intervene until after it was too late and violence had been done, she fled in terror, leaving most of her personal belongings behind (some of which I was able to later return to her).
Once Jaqie was removed from the picture, and the household was reduced to just Matt and myself, he no longer felt obligation to maintain an image of civility or responsibility. To be fair, he did complete his externship, but thereafter he made a token gesture of applying for jobs, accepting them, and then within a month or so having a dispute with management leading to him either walking out or getting fired. He would work just long enough to put together enough money to pay for his own hobbies, but had none to offer toward household responsibilities or his outstanding debt. Eventually, his reputation had gotten ahead of him, and places in the area refused to hire him at all, at which time he decreed that it was my responsibility to fully support him indefinitely. The result was that my disability income was paying the entire cost of supporting both of us, and he was not even willing to acknowledge his financial dependence on me.
That brings us to early this spring, when some friends I had met online started talking seriously about the possibility of eventually moving me somewhere nearer to where they were, and the idea of finally getting out from under the burden of the house and my brother began to look potentially feasible. Needless to say, I was quite wary and suspicious, based on past experience with others offering to 'help' me out of an abusive environment, only to lead me into a worse one. Further complicating things, the counselor/therapist/whatever whom I had been seeing suddenly disappeared without a trace, leaving me with very little guidance or support.
In July, Claire came down to visit me, and we discussed some long-term plans of moving me out of there, into a healthier environment, and we each had some long talks with Matt about how he needed to pick himself up by his bootstraps and try to get back on his feet - including the money I'd given him to put gas in his truck to go down to Social Services so he could apply for food stamps and/or cash assistance and/or job placement assistance. Claire stayed for a week, and then I rode back to NY with her for a week (where I met several other supportive friends), and when I returned to Virginia, discovered that Matt had not done any of the things that he had agreed to do while I was away; the money that I gave him for those tasks had been spent on other things. He had run out of money for his World of Warcraft subscription, so he had instead switched to Second Life, and remained entrenched in his room, with the pile of trash from floor to ceiling sitting beside him.
We decided that I needed a vacation, and we arranged for that to happen. In August, Claire came down again with Samantha and Inky, with the intention of taking me out of there for about a month-long vacation, getting to see a bit more of the country by going back up to NY and out to Montana. As we were leaving (as in, outside, getting into the truck), he came to the door demanding that I had to give him money before leaving; I told him that I didn't have any more to give him, and that he'd shown bad faith on what I already had given him. His response was to become belligerent, making various threats against me and my friends, and we decided that the best course of action was to simply leave, rather than escalating the situation into potential violence.
Needless to say, I was a bit shaken, and it took awhile for me to settle down at all. By the time Samantha and I had gotten to Montana, I was relatively calm, and it was very clear that living back at the house in Virginia with Matt was not something that I would be able to do again. We started making arrangements for where to house me both for short-term and long-term.
The first time I got back online from Montana, I found my Skype inbox littered with still more ranting and raving and threats from Matt. At that point, I decided it would be a good idea to phone Pastor Tindall (the pastor of the church next door to the house), to see if he could talk to Matt at all, and maybe use his counseling skills to help settle him down some. The conversation between them was private, and I have no specific knowledge of its content, but Matt resumed sending me messages ranting about how I had lied to the pastor, and that I was doing it all just to abuse him. Because of how emotionally traumatized I was by this new barrage of attacks, Claire suggested that I should block him from contacting me online, which I did.
Since coming back from Montana to NY, I've been staying in Zakk's spare bedroom, waiting for an apartment to become available in the building where Claire lives. This limbo state has been somewhat anxiety-inducing, since I haven't had access to a doctor or therapist, my car and most of my possessions are still in Virginia, and I don't have a mailing address to give anyone for myself. Further, I'm *still* paying the utility bills on the house in Virginia (in addition to my own expenses here), which are draining away my meager savings at an alarming rate, and I don't dare turn off those utilities until I've removed the remainder of my belongings from the house.
I was hoping that Matt would come to his senses over time, waking up and doing what he needs to do, but last week I made the mistake of answering a phone call that woke me up, without checking the number - it was him, calling again to blame me for everything that had gone wrong in his life, accepting no responsibility for any of it. I tried to reason with him for about five minutes before giving up and hanging up on him. The inevitability of a confrontation when we return to Virginia to retrieve my belongings continues to eat away at me, and will do so until it is done, but there's no feasible way to make that happen before the Thanksgiving break.
...and in the back of my mind, there is still the nagging fear: am I doing it again? Is this just another case of "out of the frying pan, into the fire"?
For many years, my mother was the only advocate and guardian that I really had, and unfortunately, she had many blind spots of her own. She saw the abuse that came from her ex-husband (my father), and she saw when it came from outside the family. However, when it was her youngest son Matthew perpetrating the abuses, it was too easy for her to excuse it, dismiss it, deny it, and, when those failed, forgive it - over and over again. On at least two occasions, she had to have him removed from the family home for his habit of getting up in her face, becoming loud and overbearing, forcing her back into a corner, and refusing to back down - receiving restraining orders against him on each occasion. When he was married, he put his wife into the same position, and she also had to get a restraining order against him. While he was away at culinary school, he did the same to a roommate, who unfortunately allowed his machismo to get the better of him, leading him to punch my brother across the face, breaking his jaw - as my brother gleefully had the guy arrested, knowing full well that he himself had instigated the fight, but was untouchable because he refrained from initiating any physical violence.
When mom was diagnosed with advanced Pancreatic Cancer in summer 2006, she made arrangements for the family home to be passed jointly to Matt and myself, which was executed without complication. After she passed in early 2007, her life insurance money was used to pay off the mortgage, leaving the deed to the house free and clear, with myself and Matt as joint owners of the house and property. The intention was that we would jointly maintain the property, dividing costs and responsibilities.
Because I subsist on a disability income, combined with the severe anxiety disorder that disables me in the first place, the very idea of having to make other living arrangements for myself was more than I could handle, and considering that option led to frequent breakdowns. Part of the nature of my anxiety condition is that I cannot cope with confrontation, and even a simple interview will frequently induce a severe anxiety attack, unless I am in the company of an advocate to provide emotional support.
Matt decided that attending culinary school would be a good way to advance his career options, and offered assurance that if I could cover the cost of maintaining the house while he was away, he would pay me back after he finished school and got a job. He also convinced our other brother Michael (career US Navy corpsman, active duty) to co-sign the student loan for him, with assurance that it would just be a formality, and the loan payments would be made punctually, leaving no liability on Mike.
While Matt was away at culinary school, I was able to manage the costs of maintaining the household (utilities, basic maintenance, groceries, property taxes, etc), but I found myself needing some help with household chores (cooking, cleaning, etc). Matt agreed to the idea of me inviting a friend (Jaqie) to stay there with me to help out, and said that he was considering moving to a larger city after completing his culinary degree instead of coming back to the house at all - thus implying that the arrangement would be indefinite. Jaqie is mildly autistic, highly introverted, and has some anxiety issues of her own; as such, most of her time was spent withdrawn into her room.
After culinary school, Matt arranged for externship locally and returned home, on the logic that it would be less costly to share the maintenance expenses of the lien-free house with me, rather than to pay rent in another location, which seemed fair and reasonable enough. Not long after his return home, he became increasingly hostile toward Jaqie, expressing discomfort with having her in his home, and demanding that she should be more sociable toward him, rather than hiding out in her room. When she did come out and try to socialize with him, including inviting him into her guild in WoW, he frequently became threatening and verbally abusive toward her. She expelled him from her guild, and he responded by loudly and violently demanding that she leave his home immediately. This incident escalated to the point where law enforcement were called to intervene. By the time they arrived, he changed his demeanor completely, asserting that he had been the victim, no threats or abuse were occurring, and that the problem was the 'mental illness' of the anxiety disorders that both Jaqie and I have, causing us to make paranoid accusations. Since nothing could be proven, and it was merely hearsay, the deputies left with no action taken. Because it had been made abundantly clear that law enforcement would not (or could not) intervene until after it was too late and violence had been done, she fled in terror, leaving most of her personal belongings behind (some of which I was able to later return to her).
Once Jaqie was removed from the picture, and the household was reduced to just Matt and myself, he no longer felt obligation to maintain an image of civility or responsibility. To be fair, he did complete his externship, but thereafter he made a token gesture of applying for jobs, accepting them, and then within a month or so having a dispute with management leading to him either walking out or getting fired. He would work just long enough to put together enough money to pay for his own hobbies, but had none to offer toward household responsibilities or his outstanding debt. Eventually, his reputation had gotten ahead of him, and places in the area refused to hire him at all, at which time he decreed that it was my responsibility to fully support him indefinitely. The result was that my disability income was paying the entire cost of supporting both of us, and he was not even willing to acknowledge his financial dependence on me.
That brings us to early this spring, when some friends I had met online started talking seriously about the possibility of eventually moving me somewhere nearer to where they were, and the idea of finally getting out from under the burden of the house and my brother began to look potentially feasible. Needless to say, I was quite wary and suspicious, based on past experience with others offering to 'help' me out of an abusive environment, only to lead me into a worse one. Further complicating things, the counselor/therapist/whatever whom I had been seeing suddenly disappeared without a trace, leaving me with very little guidance or support.
In July, Claire came down to visit me, and we discussed some long-term plans of moving me out of there, into a healthier environment, and we each had some long talks with Matt about how he needed to pick himself up by his bootstraps and try to get back on his feet - including the money I'd given him to put gas in his truck to go down to Social Services so he could apply for food stamps and/or cash assistance and/or job placement assistance. Claire stayed for a week, and then I rode back to NY with her for a week (where I met several other supportive friends), and when I returned to Virginia, discovered that Matt had not done any of the things that he had agreed to do while I was away; the money that I gave him for those tasks had been spent on other things. He had run out of money for his World of Warcraft subscription, so he had instead switched to Second Life, and remained entrenched in his room, with the pile of trash from floor to ceiling sitting beside him.
We decided that I needed a vacation, and we arranged for that to happen. In August, Claire came down again with Samantha and Inky, with the intention of taking me out of there for about a month-long vacation, getting to see a bit more of the country by going back up to NY and out to Montana. As we were leaving (as in, outside, getting into the truck), he came to the door demanding that I had to give him money before leaving; I told him that I didn't have any more to give him, and that he'd shown bad faith on what I already had given him. His response was to become belligerent, making various threats against me and my friends, and we decided that the best course of action was to simply leave, rather than escalating the situation into potential violence.
Needless to say, I was a bit shaken, and it took awhile for me to settle down at all. By the time Samantha and I had gotten to Montana, I was relatively calm, and it was very clear that living back at the house in Virginia with Matt was not something that I would be able to do again. We started making arrangements for where to house me both for short-term and long-term.
The first time I got back online from Montana, I found my Skype inbox littered with still more ranting and raving and threats from Matt. At that point, I decided it would be a good idea to phone Pastor Tindall (the pastor of the church next door to the house), to see if he could talk to Matt at all, and maybe use his counseling skills to help settle him down some. The conversation between them was private, and I have no specific knowledge of its content, but Matt resumed sending me messages ranting about how I had lied to the pastor, and that I was doing it all just to abuse him. Because of how emotionally traumatized I was by this new barrage of attacks, Claire suggested that I should block him from contacting me online, which I did.
Since coming back from Montana to NY, I've been staying in Zakk's spare bedroom, waiting for an apartment to become available in the building where Claire lives. This limbo state has been somewhat anxiety-inducing, since I haven't had access to a doctor or therapist, my car and most of my possessions are still in Virginia, and I don't have a mailing address to give anyone for myself. Further, I'm *still* paying the utility bills on the house in Virginia (in addition to my own expenses here), which are draining away my meager savings at an alarming rate, and I don't dare turn off those utilities until I've removed the remainder of my belongings from the house.
I was hoping that Matt would come to his senses over time, waking up and doing what he needs to do, but last week I made the mistake of answering a phone call that woke me up, without checking the number - it was him, calling again to blame me for everything that had gone wrong in his life, accepting no responsibility for any of it. I tried to reason with him for about five minutes before giving up and hanging up on him. The inevitability of a confrontation when we return to Virginia to retrieve my belongings continues to eat away at me, and will do so until it is done, but there's no feasible way to make that happen before the Thanksgiving break.
...and in the back of my mind, there is still the nagging fear: am I doing it again? Is this just another case of "out of the frying pan, into the fire"?
somber
cynical
melancholy
amused