Yepp, I’m back to my stories!! I’m still hopeful it will somehow help my screwed up life.
Fact number 7: I have 5 siblings.
This could be a simple one… but it’s not. By the time my mother was 22 she had 5 children under the age of 5. Yes, you read that right. Got pregnant at 16, forced to marry by her father who was very religious (ok, that really just is my guess but it makes the story more dramatic…) and stayed pregnant until 22. Then they finally heard of an operation to stop the endless flow of children (yes, birth control was also frowned upon by my grandfather…. right up there with bastard children! Also not eating everything on your plate… a big no-no. That probably comes right underneath the bastard kids thing).
My mother was a child raising children. My dad worked as much as possible. I truly believe they were both miserable. So mother ate… and shopped. And father screamed, shut down….. and worked (how else can the mother shop….) My mother shopped some more, hid what she bought…. had to buy more cos she forgot what she hid (it was a big old cold house… demons lived there).
And us kids while my mother shopped and my father worked? Well…… that is where the ‘my sister and brother are bitches’ come in. I think my parents wanted two kids. And they would have been a normal family had they learned how to use birth control. My sister -whom we shall call A- and brother -whom we shall call B- were loved. I heard my parents tell them over and over again. But only them. ‘I love you’…. A&B picked up on that at an early age…. and decided we were now considered beneath them. A&B would bully C (that’s me!!) &D (my little brother) relentlessly. It was bad. Real bad. E -the youngest of the initial 5- was spared for reasons unknown to me. To be honest I have no idea how D survived his childhood….. I had vivid imaginations of killing myself (knives, walking in front of the bus, jumping off bridges, poison, drowning and my all time favorite for dramatic purposes -hanging myself in the staircase!). D had it worse. He was literally treated like dirt…. like shit….. not worthy of breathing the same air…. of being in the same room as A&B. My parents allowed this. He was humiliated and beat down at every waking moment. He was ignored, stomped on, ridiculed – and yet he lives. If he can, so can I.
Needless to stay, D has a screwed up life.
I forgot to enter F into the story!!! While this hot mess of a family was going on, my parents -ever so bright and still eating, shopping, screaming and ignoring children- decided to…… drumroll ——–> foster a child!!!! Yes, indeed. And the Belgian state actually gave them one. I have no idea what the reasoning was from my parents side (or the state)….. ‘we screwed up 5 of them, let’s see if we can get it right with a sixth?’ Or maybe, ‘now we have had lots of practice and know what not to do’…. (no, it ain’t that one….) Whatever their reason, here was a brand new baby! (yes, that would be F) I must have been 12 at this time and had wanted to kill myself for about 3 years. I liked F. He was so nice and pure and innocent. It didn’t stay that way. Soon enough he would also be poisoned… not only by my parents, also by his birthmother and A&B. I saw…. no, watched them destroy this innocent child. I did nothing. F was so scared and later on so angry. He almost did not make it…. he is barely alive today. I blame my parents for screwing up D and F. A (the sister) refuses to call F her brother. My mother refuses to call F her son. My father….. my dad, is trying. He even musters an ‘I love you’ once a year (he started that when I was about 22 which means he has said that he loves me about 15 times, but hey, who’s complaining, that is 15 times more than my mother).
And I feel tremendous guilt for leaving D and F behind. I left as soon as I legally could. I left. Moved far far away. Emotionally and physically. I have never told D and F how sorry I am.
Yes, my family is royally screwed up BUT this is all a big secret. We would not want the church to find out!! But after I have written all of this down, I should also mention that I love them, my family. Even A&B. I just can not stand to be around them. I have not spoken to any of them (except D) in 6 months (yes, they will tell you that that is my fault). I try to travel ‘home’ once a year, to hear the obligatory ‘I love you’ from my dad. I pretend that A is not a bitch, the family pretends with me. I listen to B complain how his horrible girlfriend left him because he couldn’t stop having sex with other women…. (yes, it is sooooo her fault). I see D and F quietly sitting in the corner, listening and understanding they do not have the same worth. I guilt my parents into buying me crap I do not need (hell no, I wont buy it myself, I am stingy, remember?)(and they owe me!). I admire E’s new offspring (ok, she is actually damn cute. And the offspring has elevated E’s status in the family quite dramatically! Nothing beats grandchildren apparently). And then I go home again. I swear, it is ALWAYS grey when the plane takes off in Belgium and the sun is ALWAYS shining when it lands somewhere else (anywhere else).
I could have done this a lot shorter…. as in; I have 5 siblings, we are ABCDEF…..
And yet I still truly love them and desperately want them to love me.
~ Becca ~