As good as it gets…again!

Now! Where did we get to?

The police came to see me at work once. I told the policeman that if I found my Brother first, I was going to kill him! He nodded understandably and scribbled in his note pad but, really I expect he thought that I was an utterly heartless bitch! I wasn’t of course, I was in a place where I felt I was drowning, that I would never come up. No doubt how my Brother felt at the time.
I just kept thinking that he wasn’t at all like the Coppers from The Bill. I expect that this was his most exciting job of the day. To me, it was pretty much the end of my world.

How dare he! How dare he find that things were too much for him and so he could simply decide to run away and leave it all behind. Leave me behind. I had wished that I could run away but, I had responsibilities. He had a responsibility to be my older Brother and stick around. He didn’t run away to forget though, he ran away to disappear forever.

Disney baby!!!

Quite often it starts with something small. Don’t get me wrong, I am not trivialising self harm but in comparison of what was to come, it was much more preferable for me. I know that sounds selfish, I should not be talking about me here but, the self harm never seemed quite so bad as the determination to simply not be here. Perhaps that was because my Dad was still here then and emotionally and subconsciously, I was leaning on him so to speak. It is quite easy to ignore it, long jumpers and tins of razor blades hidden under sofas but, it is always there, always hanging around in the ethos.

He spoke to me about it once, we were probably drunk. As we became older and the age difference seemed less, we had a great relationship. We went clubbing together, drank together and on occasion, I was particularly enamoured of some of his male friends. He wasn’t always as particularly keen on that idea but he humoured me. The infatuation was ordinarily short lived. Most of all we would spend our time playing Trivial Pursuit, listening to music and reciting practically every line from Filthy Rich and Catflap…we still do that now. Those were happy times. We still do exactly the same when we meet up though, like we can retreat to those times when we were children and we probably need that.

My brother was always the intelligent one, he still is!

He said that when he bled, bled away, so did the pain and the frustration and the hurt. I could comprehend that, it made sense to me. It didn’t make sense however, that he would always have to be reminded of those times, that he would always always carry it with him, wherever he chose to go in life. Physically, that reminder would always be there. That part made no sense to me. Says she with the ongoing tattoo sleeve…I know I know!! But, I chose to have forever ink on me. He didn’t choose. No-one would choose that if they could. I respected that he had shared it with me though.

That’s exactly where we are now (but better). Since I was 18 and he told me that he would intentionally cut himself, he has never spoken about his pain. But, he does now. Those times of silence in between were dark. Very dark. Mary Celeste dark!

When he was hospitalised, I remember feeling like I did with my Dad when he was. I could not wait for my Dad to come home but, I was always worried about how our lives would be different. I wanted him to come home but, I was scared about being his carer. He could not walk and he had to be lifted into bed and into his wheelchair. Would I have to wipe his bum? Would I have to give up my life to concentrate on making the rest of his easier? Of course, I would do that and I did to some extent but, it is a scary prospect when you are just obtaining your own freedom in life. Incidentally, although I didn’t have to wipe his bum ( too much), I did have to do his washing and empty his commode which was always an experience. We would joke about whether it had been a sausages and onion gravy day. Thankfully, we learned to space those very far apart!

I never thought this may happen again. This time though it was a time when I had my own family to consider : a husband and a small child to concentrate on, I was also pregnant with another. Plus, I didn’t have my Dad anymore to lean on. Those times were times that I would really rather forget. When I talked to my brother on the phone from his hospital though, it seemed like it was just the two of us in the world. Just as we had to be before, just as we had been left and although these were the darkest times, those times are behind us now and we have a crazy relationship because of it. Crazy is our middle name. Although, technically he has a certificate to prove it :)!

Its not Tarby…but hey 🙂

I can honestly say that I have never been so proud of anyone. Of what he was then and now what he has become is a world so far apart that you would need a wardrobe to get there again! I know that he will never be cured. I know that my beautiful fiance will never be cured but in life there is hope and you cannot have sadness or pain without happiness and love. The world is meant to be full of opposites and I firmly believe that when you are given hardship, one day you will be given back what you gave in a positive reward. I already have now to some extent and so has my Brother: in the recovery that he has achieved. If that isn’t true however, I shall be most annoyed but i will die waiting. If I am proved wrong….hey, who cares..I’ll be dead!!!