The Brothers From Hell - Part 1
In The Brothers From Hell I will attempt to discover and express my true feelings for my older brothers, both of which abused me though in very different ways. Keep in mind that this is a recovery step and both my thoughts and feelings may go on a tangent in any direction. The purpose of this first segment is a simple introduction, though I am hopeful that I will be able to self-express whatever aspect of these damaged relationships is necessary at this juncture. Be advised that this introduction is done from the perspective of my wounded child and is representative of circa 1974.
Bobby
Bobby was the redneck of the family. Named after the 'old man', he thought he was some kind of bigshot. He was good-looking and had plenty of girlfriends, so I don't know what he was so angry about. Whatever the cause, he took his anger out on me. By this time, I had become the punching bag for the entire family it would seem, and Bobby took his share of turns kicking the cat (me). I think maybe he was pissed about the divorce. Or, maybe he was pissed that mother took me with her (not that I was with her per se). He liked to shove his weight around, and was very physical in doing so.
The ironic thing about Bobby was that he was the "good" one. He always went to church, and even got me to go to church. He never smoked, never did drugs, and never drank. All the while he was a very angry young man who would come home form church and beat the shit out of me, a child seven years his junior.
Ray
Ray was the opposite of Bobby in every way. Bobby was a redneck, so Ray was a hippie. Bobby drove a truck, so Ray rode a bike. Bobby went to church, so Ray got high. To the outside world, Bobby was the best kid a parent could have, and Ray was a son-of-a-bitch. Get the picture?
Ray sexually abused me on a daily basis for approximately 5 years. I hate the mother fucker. It feels so good to say that. I know it is a sin, but I want you to understand that I recognize right now, at this very moment, just how much I hate that son-of-a-bitch. More than I have ever thought it was possible to hate someone. More than Bobby, more than Shirley, more than my Mom or the father I never met, I despise Ray most of all. He hurt me in ways that I only hope to be able to put to words in the very near future. Ray was the one that turned me on to my life-long medicant of choice, marijuana. He also enabled me to experiment with Cocaine, amphetamines, Mescaline, and LSD.
In summary, I find the two of them much more alike than immediately obvious. I have to wonder if the cycle was started by "Old-Man" Haggard. I know for a fact that he favored Bobby, and I speculate that he sexually abused Ray and Bobby knew it and despised Ray for it. As a result, Bobby became angry because he knew his beloved father was a child molester, while Ray propagated the sexual abuse to me and who knows how many others by now. The irony is obvious; they had their unique ways of brutality, and their unique ways of numbing the pain, both of which they passed on to me.
-b
Bobby
Bobby was the redneck of the family. Named after the 'old man', he thought he was some kind of bigshot. He was good-looking and had plenty of girlfriends, so I don't know what he was so angry about. Whatever the cause, he took his anger out on me. By this time, I had become the punching bag for the entire family it would seem, and Bobby took his share of turns kicking the cat (me). I think maybe he was pissed about the divorce. Or, maybe he was pissed that mother took me with her (not that I was with her per se). He liked to shove his weight around, and was very physical in doing so.
The ironic thing about Bobby was that he was the "good" one. He always went to church, and even got me to go to church. He never smoked, never did drugs, and never drank. All the while he was a very angry young man who would come home form church and beat the shit out of me, a child seven years his junior.
Ray
Ray was the opposite of Bobby in every way. Bobby was a redneck, so Ray was a hippie. Bobby drove a truck, so Ray rode a bike. Bobby went to church, so Ray got high. To the outside world, Bobby was the best kid a parent could have, and Ray was a son-of-a-bitch. Get the picture?
Ray sexually abused me on a daily basis for approximately 5 years. I hate the mother fucker. It feels so good to say that. I know it is a sin, but I want you to understand that I recognize right now, at this very moment, just how much I hate that son-of-a-bitch. More than I have ever thought it was possible to hate someone. More than Bobby, more than Shirley, more than my Mom or the father I never met, I despise Ray most of all. He hurt me in ways that I only hope to be able to put to words in the very near future. Ray was the one that turned me on to my life-long medicant of choice, marijuana. He also enabled me to experiment with Cocaine, amphetamines, Mescaline, and LSD.
In summary, I find the two of them much more alike than immediately obvious. I have to wonder if the cycle was started by "Old-Man" Haggard. I know for a fact that he favored Bobby, and I speculate that he sexually abused Ray and Bobby knew it and despised Ray for it. As a result, Bobby became angry because he knew his beloved father was a child molester, while Ray propagated the sexual abuse to me and who knows how many others by now. The irony is obvious; they had their unique ways of brutality, and their unique ways of numbing the pain, both of which they passed on to me.
-b
posted by Black Heart at 8:39 PM
2 Comments:
Oh my fucking god... I'm only here because you commented on my blog... I came here to reciprocate the gesture... but I found so much more...
My heart goes out to you. If i misspell as I type these words, it is because i can't see through my tears.
I know you're only provideed a tiny glimpse, but that glimpse is enough to draw me in... and realte to you. This is a wonderful post... but it must have been so had for you to write! The words will help. Seeing you words in print will help.
Fuck, I wish I had something enlightening to say... but I am speechless. So Ill just say this:
Get it out. Use this forum as a soul-coughing. Cough, sneeze, cry, adn blow your nose on us. I dont know how long you've been blogging... but it is free therapy... and in my opinion, much more effective than some stiff in a tie... and more effective than the meds they try to shove down out throats. Which problems are cured by a pill? None.
I so admire your honesty with this entry. I only hope that it get easier as you write about it. I can only hope.
If I could make it all go away, I would. I have my own demons... or I thought I had demons until I read this.
You're obviously a survivor... and a person I'd like to know. Part II, write it right now. Get it out!
Billy, I just wanted you to know that I've read every word of your blog. I don't know if this will touch you now, later, or never, but I have a story I'd like to relate. I was reading a book once, and the author was visiting someone who had a cartoon on the wall outside of his office. It was two turtles talking to one another. The first turtle said to the second one, "If I had a chance to talk to God, I'd ask Him why He allows there to be so much evil in the world." The second turtle said, "I'd be afraid He'd ask the same question of me." We live in a fallen world. We are not "of the world," but we are "in" in. Praise God that it's only temporary. Picture yourself standing in front of a whiteboard. Take a marker, and put a dot. Just a dot. That's us for all of our life on earth. From day one of Genesis through to the destruction of heaven and earth. Then take the marker and draw a line, starting from the dot and run it to the farthest edge of the whiteboard, and visualize it running past the whiteboard and as far as they eye can see. That's us in the presence of God. He's preparing a great mansion for us where all of the stuff that happens to us in the dot will disappear, and there will be no more tears. Now we have pain and tears, but keep your eyes on things above and let the loving hand of Jesus cradle you. There actually is a "why" to all of this horror, and I'll try to address it in my next post on my site. Thanks for visiting me and leaving a comment so I could visit you. Grace and Peace.
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