The black sheep of the family has always been labeled by the family as the one who didn’t get with the program. They’ve often been labeled as the person who went off, got into trouble, did bad things and the focus was on them as if they were horrible in some way. I can see how this happens, it’s easier to focus on someone else vs. what they’ve done. They being the family.
I’m the black sheep of my family. I saw things as they were. Even 30 some odd years later, my brother disagreed. I advised him when we were speaking at one point, that it was nothing he’d done, that our sister wasn’t his responsibility. That she was a product of her environment, just like me, cept I went the other way. I’m the black sheep. He didn’t process that well, it didn’t stick. I’m picturing him now, standing in my kitchen, not hearing me or what I said. He deflected what I’d said. My sister decided to rebel against our family, by doing drugs, getting involved with men who were not to my families liking, getting caught at boarding school (yes, they sent her away… smh) having sex in the closet, doing things that “because” of the strict disciplinarian nature of our household. Simply put, they beat the fuck out of these two, unmercifully. The topic came up because my sister called my brother. She wanted money. Usually when my sister wanted money, it was for drugs. My brother, rescued her constantly. He felt guilty, not giving her the $200.00 she wanted.
I was done with her when I was small. I didn’t know her very well anyway. I’m about, 6/7 yrs., younger than she is anyway. She was out of the house, other than the visits (which are fuzzy, at best) in my memory, as to the home they put her in “first” for juvenile delinquents because she was uncontrollable … yeah. She was uncontrollable. I dare say, with different parents, she may have literally turned out differently. Literally. She was vicious, she came after me once. I was about 13 I guess. She’d robbed the house because she needed drug money. The only reason she was even in the house was due to the death of our mother, who was killed in a car accident. My father, I guess, thought he would bring them all together again. Why? I just don’t know. I saw her at the park, I called my dad when I got home, he asked me to go back and keep her there so he could see her. She’d run away again. And she was invited this time… if that makes sense. She’d been out of the house for so long at that point. Okay, so I went back, my dad showed up, said he wanted to talk to her. Asked me to get her purse, that girl came around the car at me like the devil who hath no fear. And, she didn’t either… because her focus wasn’t me, it was the money she could get by selling the things she’d stolen from the house. She was more than willing to go through me, to get what she wanted. I handed her, her purse. Fuck that.
Years later, many years later, in my 20’s, my father died. Again, we were all put together after many years apart, for the funeral. Nothing had changed for either of them mentally. My sister was the one who went off the deep end mentally, emotionally and to date, may never have recovered. My brother some how became her keeper, put her in rehabs, etc., protected her from bad humans, etc., She and I spoke on the phone at some point, I was married to a volatile human, now HE was a psychopath. He’s dead now. Good. Anyway, I was getting a divorce, she and I… were on the phone, I’m not sure why… that’s fuzzy. We were, getting familiar I guess, I mentioned I was getting divorced and she slurs out, “Oh, you’re like me” Flashback to all the shit, I saw her do, the times we’d rescued her (from herself, I understand, not my point) the time she came after me at the park, I bristled. If she didn’t feel that through the phone… she did. Good. I advised her that, “We were nothing alike, I leave people who treat me badly, in any manner. You stay.”
She responded accordingly. “I’ll kick your ass, talking to me like that”. I advised her, “I’m not small anymore, bring it if you think you want to tackle me, you know where I am.” That was it, all done. Good. No, she never showed up. That would have been a sad cluster fuck of a party if she had. Her misdirected shit, that she never got over, me standing up for myself like I wasn’t able to back then. I’d imagine someone would have gotten, hurt. A lot. Not good. :(
One should never assume the black sheep of the family was/is the one who had the problems. Sometimes the black sheep, see’s everything clear as day. That would be me.
My brother, he’s screwed up too. He was in the boy scouts, I still have the Eagle Scout pin from his, whatever ceremony directly after our mother died. I thought that was cool at the time. He needed a better mentor and Mr. E— was just that for him. As he got older he got into martial arts, to sooth the devil inside. Meditation, focus, etc., all good things. It served him. It probably saved him for what it’s worth. My brother is a fairly dangerous human being, given the right circumstances. He has rules … I appreciate them, only because I know where he came from. No more, no less. He was a paramedic, fire chief, president of the teamsters and a “well respected” biker and I don’t mean the bikers who go out for a sunday ride either. Apparently, well respected in all those things. He did those things because he was in the car with my mother when she was killed. It plagued him for the rest of his life.
I’ll continue tomorrow, or later.