Abuse, Neglect, And Trauma




(The following is a half-hazard attempt to story tell and process all the things going on in my head…)

Holy FUCK. Wow. What a year! This has got to be the absolute worst year of my life. Yep. That’s an understatement. Honestly, I don’t really even know where to start. I guess I should start at the beginning but that doesn’t even really cover the way I feel right now. I can’t even describe just how numb, how afraid… how… how confused… I don’t know. I don’t even know where to start this whole process. This is just going to be years and years and years of therapy. And I don’t even like therapy. All the therapists I’ve ever had don’t seem to give a shit about me. Oh boy. I guess I should tell you guys about all the drama that’s been going on.

What’s the point of life? What’s the exact reason why we’re here? Doesn’t seem to make any sense to me. We have a world leader who lies to us everyday during his press briefings and most of these Christians are insisting upon having church services because they’re God demands it; their God demands that they put their lives in danger for him. How fucked up is that? That’s a story for another time. There’s my Corona virus rant.

Okay, back to the topic at hand. So I guess it all started several months ago. My parents are divorced. I have a younger brother who is autistic and he can’t take care of himself hardly at all. Except for taking showers and using the restroom he’s a pretty much useless with everything else. I love him to death I think he’s a great guy and I don’t blame him for his situation at all. In fact I feel bad for him. There is so much that he’ll never know, he’ll never learn, and he’s stuck in his body for the rest of that life. Maybe he’s better off not knowing the reality of this world. Anyway. He is a handful to deal with. My mom has been looking out for him and taking care of him his whole life. Everything has been pretty much stable and normal except lately my parents have been fighting a lot more. My mom found out my dad was gay sometime last year I believe and that he’s living with his husband so for a Christian woman, an old black Christian woman, that is a total nightmare. She doesn’t want her son, her autistic son, to have anything to do with a “pervert” like him. Her words not mine. So they were supposed to switch off every weekend where my dad watches my brother, let’s call him Paul, on the weekends and she watches him during the week. That’s was fine until she found out he was gay last year and started verbally assaulting him. My dad couldn’t stand it anymore so he cut her off. Blocked her ass.

Meanwhile, no one knows where my mom lives. She kept that a secret. Even on Paul’s driver license it had his PO Box. So we had no idea where she lived. Now she was stuck with Paul all to herself. Several months go by and my dad, who is a disabled veteran, finally replies to my mom and asks to see Paul since he hadn’t seen him in a while.

She agrees and she gets Paul’s usual backpack ready to go with his clothes and toys and drops him off with my dad and his husband. This was 8 weeks ago. Unfortunately for Paul, that would be the last time she ever sees him because she basically dropped him off with a letter that’s said, “I’m done. Don’t call me, don’t try and write me. Goodbye.”

And that was it. My mom disconnected her phone and headed back “East” and said she was done with all of us.

Now Paul is stuck with my dad. Which wouldn’t be a problem if she didn’t leave him with us in a psychotic state. What happened those last few months when she was being blocked by my dad to Paul is a huge mystery. He was fine last year. Now he’s been throwing fits, screaming, violent, eating his toys, messing with his fecal matter; it’s a disaster. He has digressed into this animal, I hate to say that but an animal, that I don’t recognize. That’s not my brother.

Now all this time My mom has been taking Paul to a doctor in the San Diego area for years and recently we found out that this doctor has been begging my mom to put my brother on psychotropic drugs to help his mental state. Because for some reason his mental state is deteriorating and he’s developing a psychotic state. You know what my mom’s answer was to the psychotropic drugs? She said Jesus would heal him. Yep you read that right. Jesus would heal him. So she denied any psychology or any therapy for Paul and now he is literally insane.

Over the past eight weeks my dad has been taken care of Paul and is exhausted in the process. So last week my dad finally had to put my foot down and say to him if you don’t stop this work going to send you to the hospital. So we send him to the hospital.

That was a mistake. We sent him in the hospital and naturally they had to put him on restraints to the bed because he wasn’t acting normal. They forced him to have some psychotropic drugs and it seemed to help him. He was getting more stable except one day last week he had a huge meltdown and they were forced to give him some Haldol. That’s when his liver and kidney started failing. Apparently some people have a really terrible reaction to Haldol where it causes contractions in the kidney muscles that releases these chemicals into your system and basically trashes your organs. He was dying. They had to hurry him over to another hospital to get a catheter in him and do hemodialysis to try and save his kidneys. As of today the numbers in his labs are improving and it looks like he’ll make a full recovery. But it’s gonna take time.

So that’s my life right now. I’ve been drinking myself heavily and smoking weed pretty much everyday. I don’t want to feel. My dad called me the second night Paul was in the hospital and he started having these kidney and liver failures and he was sobbing. He was like “is Paul going to die? Is Paul going to die?! Did I send him to his death!?” I can’t stand my dad crying.

I’m trying to pull myself together. I’m trying to be strong. But I feel this overwhelming sense of defeat. I feel like life has finally found a way to beat me down hard. I have no strength to fight back. I don’t. I feel like I lost.

What am I supposed to do now? I don’t feel like fighting anymore. I’m done. Whoever you are I surrender. You win. Now please stop.


I’ll try and keep you guys posted on Paul’s condition. Hopefully he doesn’t have to stay in the hospital for too long. He didn’t deserve a life like this. It breaks my heart picturing him strapped to the bed being force fed drugs. He must be so scared. All the while he keeps asking God,”When is mommy coming home?”

It hurts. So much.

2 thoughts on “Abuse, Neglect, And Trauma

  1. So sorry to hear about your brother Jess. I wish I could say something to make it better but I’m such a hot fucking mess I’m sure nothing I have to say would help anyways. I’m in the middle of I don’t even fucking know. So sick of living but have severe guilt for feeling that way because of my children. Pretty sad when I’ve thought getting the virus and dying would be amazing. I mean who in the actual fuck thinks stuff like that? Me!! I dream about dying way more then living. My suicide attempt was really bad and idk how I made it threw but I did. Every since then I’ve been a scared little bitch to try it again. Wow I’m rambling on. Sorry I just made this all about me. I hope you write again soon. Or maybe just shoot me a text or email. I feel like we could use each other. 813-763-4020 or daphnebarber@aol.com Take care sis.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. My goodness, Jess, what can I possibly say other than to send a huge hug with this message, tell you how incredibly sorry I am that you are going through a hell that you wouldn’t read about in a horror story. How you are even still breathing today is such a credit to you. I read this months post, as I missed this one above, and so sorry that I did. In a moment or hour (or in your case at the moment, months) of distress not knowing the way out, up, down, left or right, you need to know that others care about you and that you keep fighting.

    I know all the things my therapist would tell me. Try not thinking. Break it down and pull it all apart so it turns into a bunch of single step by step decisions. What words do they use these days, their latest catchphrase “pull it part” or “unpack” it.

    Wanting to and insisting your brother went to the hospital wasn’t a mistake. You weren’t to know. Thank goodness they found out he was allergic whilst still in hospital!!!! Can you imagine if that had happened at home? No, taking him to hospital, PART of that decision turned unexpectedly bad. Who could have known, not even his doctors? At least they know now, and they know for the rest of his life. Please don’t take that burden ( “I should have known”) upon your shoulders, because your motives were fantastic. You took action. You didn’t bury your head in the sand and pretend it wasn’t there. That took INCREDIBLE strength.

    Relying on Jesus, well, without putting anyone down, he is out of that environment as far as his mental health, and will now get the help he needs. Again, that’s going to come from him being in the hospital. I do hope that in the long term his mental health will take a turn for the better. Your next post says that he is physically recovering, so glad to hear.

    I’ll post this now, but the main message I’d love you to hear is that you took action, you sought help, and you fought for your brother. I love that you stood up when no one else seemed to.

    And that you are still here to tell us about it. You haven’t given up.


    Liked by 1 person

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