My reaction was extreme. However it was 20+ years in the making. The Gerdts’ have NEVER treated me even close to how they treated my brother. Even before my car accident. After my car accident they decided I wasn’t even worth talking to. I don’t regret sending the links, it gave me the opportunity to really see how there are no redemptive qualities with anyone on that side of the family.
As for my brother, he has purposefully and willfully stayed ignorant about my head injury and my other medical conditions. He doesn’t care about me, everyone laughs about how when I was in the hospital for my car accident on an all liquid diet, he fed me cheese fries. I wonder if they would still be laughing had I choked on them.
No one has ever stood up for me on the Gerdts’ side of the family. Absolutely no one. One would think that my brother, my own flesh and blood, whom I was close with for a real long time, would stand up for his sister. One would think my mom would understand how I feel instead of defending him, talking about how much stress he is under. What about the stress I am under? Will anyone ever care about me at least as much as they care about my brother?
I was always smarter than him, I still am, if I’m honest. I have a bigger vocabulary, I skipped a grade or two in elementary school, I always made straight A’s without even trying, whereas he’d have to work his ass off to get a C. The funny thing is though, that even though I was never good enough, I never held it against him. I was never jealous, in fact, when my brother became too much to handle, she sent him to NY to live with my father, she kept me around and fought for me, kept sending me to residential treatment, and helped me to get on the straight and narrow again, and for that I will always appreciate her. I’m not sure what will happen with the two of us, but I will always be proud of her for getting sober and always thankful for the help she made me receive as a teenager.
After my accident, I kind of had to start life over, and it was my grandpa who raised me. He was more of a father to me than my own father, and I can’t say he did a better job, but he made me feel more loved, he never made me feel as though I wasn’t good enough. He has never told me I should get my own apartment. This is the first place that ever felt like home. And actually, I did live on my own twice. The first time I moved back to NY was with my brother and his friends. I’m pretty sure he only wanted me there because grandpa would make sure we had enough money, we had a falling out and I had to sleep with my cat in my car! Then him and his friends destroyed my 36″ inch tv (which was an expensive tv, and it was considered a big screen back then. When I went to get my stuff they pretended like they didn’t have anything to put my stuff in and I had to put whatever I could fit in a garbage bag with garbage in it. That’s who he is. I should have seen it back then and written him off and never looked back.
The second time I moved out on my own, I had a roommate named Anthony, who was more of a brother and treated me like his sister while I lived there. We still keep in touch on Facebook. He had a cat named Mr. Jingles, and I had a cat named Spitfire (the only female cat I will ever own). We lived in the Bronx and Mr. Jingles took to me right away, of course he loved Anthony just as much, but he was really sweet to me as well. When we both decided to move, he couldn’t bring Jingles with him, so I offered to take him until he could have him again. I know that sounds dumb, but I know how it is to have to live somewhere without your cat and miss your cat like crazy. I had every intention of giving him back if Anthony wanted him. But then I got so attached. And he was getting the care he needed, vet visits and regular shots and stuff. I’m not saying Anthony wouldn’t do that, or didn’t do that, I’m just saying I got super attached and ended up asking Anthony if I could keep him. He said yes. And I am so grateful. Had he said no, I would have given Mr. Jingles back, it would have destroyed me but I would have given him back. Tangent, sorry.
Since then, the thought of moving out is not even an option for me. I want to fix up our house and stay here with my uncle, whom I have always been close to, and has really helped me on and off for pretty much my whole life. When I was in residential treatment we would write letters to each other, we always had a close bond, and now it’s even more. He helps me out, both emotionally and he’s helping me get straightened out financially to become more financially independent. We talked through a plan and worked it out, because when I got the summons I completely relapsed on the shopping front.
Funny, it’s the 3rd, yet I haven’t gone to any websites or have any plans to go to Walmart, Target, anywhere. I have an Amazon cart which I am paying for in Amazon Gift cards, on my uncles account because mine is sill locked. But for the first time, I’m paying. And I’m not trying to get anything else, a lot of it is stuff I need. I’m kind of proud of myself.
I’m a little worried because it is hard to concentrate and I love to read. Next month I see my old neurologist to discuss the two major head traumas and 5 concussions, at least 5. To see if I have Post Concussion Syndrome, I kind of think I do, I looked at the symptoms and I meet more than the 3 required. Of course I also have medical conditions so some of the symptoms overlap. However, since the last concussion, I’ve been having a very hard time concentrating on reading (and I am a voracious reader), I require a nap each day. It’s not fun.
Well, that’s all for right now. I hope everyone that reads this enjoys it!
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