Quote: (04-23-2018 12:18 AM)Gustavus Adolphus Wrote:
Rigsby, our brother, I hope you made the decision to attend the funeral if possible.
AB, thanks for your input in these situations, I wish I had known the forum for the losses that affected me greatly and I dealt with on my own.
I will only add, the loss of your life’s most influential man (or potentially woman for some), as perceived in that moment, is devestating to a young man. Must be willing to show some vulnerability to let it pass.
Unfortunately I was not able to attend.
There were several reasons for this, but the most dominant one was ill health on my part.
It was just as well anyway.
I have still not begun to grieve. Perhaps a tear here or there. But not the deep mourning that I know has to come.
Sorry, I'm not a grief-whore. I've seen people who are. They use the excuse of the death of others to gain attention, to get away with things. I just want to be left in a quiet place. Soon.
The reason for this is my very own Mother's narcissistic games. You have to understand my blood father is a narc as well. As well as my step-father. Even my brother was too at his end.
I spoke to my Mother today. She has pretty much cleared out my bro's flat. I knew she would. I know how this goes.
I knew she would do everything in her power to keep me from picking up the last of his stuff.
She gave away half of his stuff to charity, the other half she put up at auction. Apparently, this has taken a terrible toll on her. You have no idea. Never off the phone.
It's so bad in fact that they are going on fucking holiday (I predicted this) until the end of the month. They will be around again in about three weeks.
I knew this would happen. I get it. It hurts. She know it hurts. I'm programmed. It hurts very much. I'll take the pain. It will pass.
But there was a quite unexpected twist on top. I made the mistake of telling her that there was a file on my bro's computer called 'Funeral Wishes'. She went in to a serious funk and meltdown.
It went a little something like this:
"Er, well, he never talked to me. You know. He never talked to you. He never talked at all. Still, I might have got it wrong. God I hope I didn't get it wrong. We shall see if I got it wrong. I never meant to get it wrong. I can't be blamed if I got it wrong. Jesus, I never knew about that. Really. I did the best I could..."
Pretty weird shit right?
Eh eh.
Funny thing is, it's all on my bro's computer that I bought for him (laptop). But the best part is knowing it is all on a USB stick that I used to download the entire contents. It was private so I never read it. She was shitting herself. I've never heard such panic in her voice. She wasn't expecting that.
But it turns out that she has given away all my brother's furniture to charity, also his TV, LCD screens, Playstation 4.
"Well, I never heard from you, I didn't know what to do when you just disappeared like that. We are both very ill. We go on holiday for a fortnight soon".
eh eh.
My mother is a sick cunt. My step father is too. And so is my biological father. And so was my brother at the end. Wrapped around their little finger.
I tapped in to to some real shit with that 'funeral wishes' file on his computer. Even if they try to change it or delete it, they know I have a hard copy on USB. They are fucking busted. I wonder what it will say.
I can't read it for the moment because the stick is in my bag that she stole off me so I would have to go back to their place later on. Including my toothbrush. Documents. One minute they are practically blackmailing me to go to their place, the next they are telling me how unreasonable I am for thinking they don't need a fucking fortnight's holiday.
I'll get it soon. They don't know it is there. Soon...
My brother has just died. I was not told about it for 3 days. I could have attended and been by his bedside, but my father would have just caused a fuss. I would have happily gone in to battle. But it wasn't what my brother needed on his deathbed with a fucking tumor the size of a football on his back. My mother as well who attacked me, burst in to tears the last time we were all in a room together. He looked at me with vengeance: what did you do to our mother, you brute?
It's all par for the course. Narcs.
Like with my mate Sol who I talked about in another thread. The material manifestations of what they leave behind. Studio equipment. Sofas worth a thousand bucks given away to 'charity'. It's all good.
They see the material worth. But we see the emotional connection. They see our loss on our faces. Thinking they know what it is. They do not understand.
I get no part in my brother's death. I've been air-brushed out of the equation.
And I don't know the exact shenanigans that went on, but my bio-father, my step-father and my mother will have been bad-mouthing me like a motherfucker. Such is the position of the black sheep, the scapegoat, the Identified Patient.
My shoulders are broad enough.
I know what I have to do now when they have finished having their fun with me. It will be a dish served cold. I will take no joy in it. You do not lie down with rabid dogs.
I'll go to his grave. Make my peace.
The truth is this:
My father always hated me on a very deep level. Enough to kill me.
My Step father always hated me as well. Not enough to kill me, but would be happy to see me killed.
And my very own mother, who I realise now never bonded with me as a baby, or a child, or a son, grew to have a visceral hatred for me as her Golden Child was taken by Cancer.
It was me she wanted to see in his place.
She will never forgive me or God for him taking him and not me.
I will only pay the rest of my life for this fault on God's part.
Even though she does not believe in God.
Wew lad. Time to take a breath ah?
It's ok.
Worse things happen at sea.
People in this life face far greater hardships than what I do now.
My brother is dead. He's not coming back. It was a fucking horrible death.
I did the best I could.
I'll go to his resting place and make it good.
And I'll minister to the sick and the needy in this life. Those that don't expect it. I don't want their gratitude. And I'll do this with no denomination. No religion. No expectation of higher reward. Because virtue is its own reward.
I hope I'll be able to find peace in that place. We shall see.