It was just now that I followed the thought path regarding the childhood stuff. When did I really notice it, when did I notice things certainly change for me, including my outlook, the trouble that I was in, the trouble that I caused as a result… Trying to trace it back to where; a big part of it, the lynchpin, you know the jumping off point like where did this really start to get brutal? What is my line of demarcation?
It really all starts to center around the time my mother was pregnant with my sister, then the buildup to her birth, and then finally her birth. I could tell you from my standpoint I was pretty excited, I was proud to take on the role of big brother, I couldn’t wait for my little sister to get here. Boom and then when she got here. It was like the best box outplay I’ve ever seen to this day as I look back. It’s like my mother and father chose to bring a long me while they raised the chosen one. All those thoughts about being close to my sister, about being a big brother; They were shattered all at once, as if I wasn’t part of any of that…that’s our child, you’re not…. You just remain silent, out of the way, not causing trouble, not being seen and certainly we don’t need your help…..that’s when I realized. It was just me…. How the fuck?
Meanwhile it seemed, like maybe I was wrong. The rest of the world, my family, my parents friends all saluted my 7yr old ass and heralded me as a bright and beautiful big brother…. My parents smirks and or quick dismissal of these accolades and convenient change of subject were always easily caught out of the corner of my eye… Locked in like a sublimation that I better say nothing, just smile and nod, because if you embarrass me I’ll beat the shit out of you…. It carried on and always came in social or familial gatherings…. Later, after evidence of physical beatings and situations like this, I would begin to get the terroristic threats. “you remember what I did to your ass last time”…
This came from my mother y’all, when something in the world, anything in my universe hurt me, scared me, piqued my curiosity, even… The person's hand I was meant to grab in safety & security, and even my inquisitiveness was met with a return of violent physical abuse. This was the person I was supposed to reach out to for love and nurturing, and it felt like the thing trying to kill me. Who the fuck was I supposed to trust? How the fuck was I supposed to trust anyone now? Are you fucking kidding me I’m seven years old….
