Cain and Abel?
Cain and Abel
So let's see, when I last left off I was describing my older brother's apparently uncontrollable rage towards me, in particular.
I always assumed that my brother was "in my corner" (in a manner of speaking) simply because we were family. Little did I realize that he harbored feelings of jealousy, resentment, and,
perhaps as a result of the jealousy, an intense anger towards me. I mean, how could I know that he felt this way AND what did I do to cause it? I can not be blamed for being born and "raining on his parade". I didn't really have much choice in that area. I am also not to blame if he compares himself to me and feels that he comes up short in areas that I excel in. The problem with my brother is that he wants to be "better" than me in every and all ways. What "better" means I do not know. I guess it means smarter, more attractive to women, make more money, more popular, and the list goes on (just use your imagination).
As far back as I can remember I always felt that there was something he had against me. He was born in 1967 and I was born in 1969. Although my brother was just a young child when I was born, his intial reaction to me I find interesting and foreshadowing of his future general disposition towards me (in case you are wondering, of course I was much too young to remember this first meeting; it was later told to me by my mother). The day she left the hospital with me as a new born she had me in her arms and brought me over to my brother. She said to him, "Here's your baby brother". She told me later on when I was grown up that he took one look at me and his reaction was one of indifference. It was like no big deal, no big whoop. I have seen children even at young ages show affection or even say "cute baby" or even "I love you, baby brother" (or sister depending on the case). Even at the age of two and a half, my brother says and does squat. I find it to be rather foreboding.
As a young child I wanted nothing more than to be with my big brother (what can I tell you I didn't know any better). It was just an innocent normal desire of any little brother to want to be with his big brother. My brother hated me following him around our parents house and yard. The strange part is that he wasn't that much older than me. I could understand if he was 11 years old and I was 5, that he might feel embarrassed (although in the privacy of our parents house who's going to know if we play games or watch tv together). However, he was only two and a half years older than me. His violent tendencies towards me started during this time period. One particular time I was following him around, I followed him outside and he went into such a rage he shoved my face into a bush outside our parents house. I being a young child was upset and broke into tears while my brother ran away from home. My father went after him, and after finding him, took him to McDonald's. I don't mean to criticize my father's parenting but it's not exactly the punishment I would have expected. Granted McDonald's doesn't have the greatest food but I wouldn't call it a punishment (unless of course you are forced to eat it everyday, I suppose. well, that's getting off the subject). I have no idea what they talked about or if they talked about anything. Looking back I think I know what my father was trying to do, which was give my brother some attention because perhaps my brother felt like all the attention was going to his cute blond haired little brother. The trouble is, it also reinforces my brother's anti-social behavior. I believe because of this, my brother equated (albeit subconsciously) that if you go into a rage and act violently it gets you attention and solves your problem. That is the pattern my brother followed till the present day. Sad but true.
I always thought of myself as much more mature than him even when he and I were children. I had affection for my brother and thought dearly of him. I never tried to pick fights with him and just wanted us to act like buddies all the time. There was no reason to not get along. Unfortunately my brother was difficult and at anytime anything I did could irritate or annoy him, and provoke him into being mean to me. For instance, one time I was sitting harmlessly in the living room enjoying a cup of soda and he didn't like how I drank my soda. He yelled at me, "Whattya gotta sip it for? Just drink it"! When I went into the kitchen to get something I came back to find that he drank my drink which I had left in the living room. True, I could just go get more from the fridge, but the point is that I couldn't understand why the way I drank my soda would bother him so much. If it bothered him, why not just leave, go into a different room and not watch me drink? That's the continuing problem with my brother: that he wants everyone in the world to change to his liking, and it doesn't work that way. Besides, what harm was I doing if I like to sip my drink instead of gulping it down like a man dying of thirst? I must add, I also sipped quietly (although even if I was sipping noisily, he could just get up and go to another room). I admit one thing that can grate the nerves is a noisy sipper. Loud sips or slurps can be annoying, which coincidently is how my brother drinks. Apparently, he doesn't annoy himself. He would be mean to me and I think he thought it was funny. He also liked putting me down. For instance, I remember him calling me "sh*t for brains" (once again his feeling that he is smarter than me and his need to show it). I accepted his behavior as something a brother does to hide his real feelings of fondness and I figured in time he would grow out of it. I never had the desire to put him down or put anyone down for that matter.
I too had problems with rage although not to the degree my brother had (and which he still has). As we grew into young teenagers if my brother punched me, especially for what I felt was no reason, I punched him back and wanted to really hurt him (to basically give him what I feel he deserved). A childhood friend of mine who my brother became friends with as well, told me that he thought my brother and I would kill each other (figuretively speaking. I think). On the subject of childhood friends, generally speaking my brother never really had any friends of his own. I made friends with neighborhood kids who I met in elementary school and the Cub Scouts. When we were younger, I remember a group of kids that we played with who were in his age group that he knew from the Cub Scouts. In the family photo albums we have pictures of all of us playing together in our backyard. Eventually they didn't come around anymore.
I remember my first best friend. His name was Scott. Him and I even looked like brothers because we both had blond hair and blue eyes. I lived on a cul de sac and he lived on the street directly behind mine. His house was only two houses away from mine. There was a deer path that we could even take to get to each other's house. It only took a minute to cut through. It was so cool. We knew each other in elementary school, although I forgot how we came to meet each other. Eventually his family moved away and I remember we both felt sad that he had to go. He came back to visit every now and then but eventually we lost touch with each other. I still have wonderful memories I will never forget of Scott. He was the greatest. I loved playing with him and our toys. Although one thing I remember about him that makes me laugh (and is a bit gross) is that he didn't wash his hands after using the toliet. We were only about 5 years old so it is certainly understandable. Even at that age I tended to be rather fastidious about washing my hands after having a bowel movement. I didn't (and still do not) like the idea of getting any feces on my hands. I cringe at the thought. Scott would come back from the bathroom and resume playing with me and my toys. After he put a toy down and I picked it up to play with it, I would notice that it smelled like feces. When he wasn't looking I would take the toy to the bathroom and wash it off. I guess I was a bit of an unusual child.
Getting back to my brother, I want to mention that perhaps the comparison to Cain and Abel is a bit extreme but at times when he went into his rage it seemed like he wanted to kill me. I felt that he had an utter hatred for me. It often left me wondering why he wanted to spend time with me at all then. As we grew up, he wanted to spend even more time with me. It is like he can not stand to be alone for very long periods of time. Until fairly recently, he didn't like to do anything alone. There was one time when we were still living at home with our parents and I was sick with a fever that was over one hundred degrees. He wanted to go out and grab a bite to eat for dinner. He asked me if I was still too sick to go out and I said that I was (I really was). He quietly said, "Oh" and had a bummed out look on his face. I wondered why it was so important for me to go with him and why he seemed afraid to go by himself. After he walked away, my mother even commented, "He needs to get some friends". My brother had trouble making and keeping friends. As I mentioned earlier, my friends were his friends. Whenever my friends came over we would all hang out and do stuff together. Play video games, board games, sports in the back yard, etc. Unfortunately, it caused many fights, really obnoxious behavior from my brother, and evoked anxiety in me everytime we tried to do something with him.
For starters, he always had to win. If he didn't, look out! He would start to swear and basically lash out. This trend continued all the way to adulthood. Another problem was that he always had to beat ME. Nothing else mattered to my brother but winning, and in particular beating me. If he had to cheat to win, he would. He just could not face losing to me. As if it was a fate worse than death itself. I tried alot of times to avoid any competitions with him because he essentially stripped the fun out of it. We couldn't even be on the same side if playing against friends because he was always so overly critical of me, and it would just erupt into an argument. It was like there was no way to get through to him. He didn't want to cooperate with me or try to get close to me and be a good dear friend, as well as brother. I just do not understand him. He took pleasure when things went wrong for me. He didn't say anything but I could just tell by the way he acted. I think it made him feel more secure in a way about himself. He is very insecure and has the lowest self esteem. I thought my self esteem was low but his takes the cake. As a child he would even do things out of spite just to get even with me.
I remember one time my brother, my friend Pat (short for Patrick), and I were playing football in the backyard. It was winter time and I believe there was a bit of snow on the ground. I was about 14 or 15 years old and my brother was 17 or 18. My brother and I were playing against each other while my friend Pat played quarterback for both sides. This one particular play, I went out for really a long pass. Pat threw the ball and it went over my head in front of me as I was running towards one of the trees in the yard that represented the beginning of the end zone (I apologize to any readers who are not familiar with American football). As I ran and saw the ball in front of me, I dove out with feet up in the air and my arms stretched out making an amazing catch! Well, at least for me it was an amazing catch considering I never really considered myself athletic. I didn't make a touchdown but it moved the ball just a few feet to the end zone.
I had lost my brother behind me but not too far behind me. As I laid on the ground after this incredible feat (since I had to dive out in front of me to catch the ball I had no choice but to hit the ground on my chest, but don't worry I wasn't hurt), my brother runs from behind and as he is running past me, kicks me in the side of the head with the heel of his boot on purpose. I said, "Owww"! and I was also pissed because I knew he did it on purpose. My brother could have easily gotten around me without kicking me. I saw him go out of his way to turn his foot so his heel would hit me in the head, plus after I said, "Owww" he said (in a whiny tone), "Well, why did you have to catch it for"? He was mad that I caught the ball so he kicked me in the head out of spite. Real mature behavior from someone who is a young adult. See what I had to endure as a child? Unfortunately this kind of behavior continued from childhood to, basically, the present day (next year he will be 40 years old. Don't worry he is not married and does not have any children. I doubt he will ever reproduce).
Although this one event sticks out in my memories, there are others that are just as painful. One such incident involved my brother getting mad at me and throwing a knife at me. I think I was about 10 years old and my brother was 12. My family was finishing eating and I was still thirsty so I mentioned that I was going to get another Yoohoo Chocolate drink (it was one of my favorite drinks). I started to head for the refrigerator while my brother yells out, "No, you pig"! My mom tells me not to, but I go ahead anyway because I figure what's the big deal. I start to drink it and walk past the table where my brother is still sitting finishing his dinner. As I walk past while enjoying my drink I get about two feet from him when I felt something hit my back. It was his dinner knife. He threw it at me. He was so enraged over the fact I wanted a second Yoohoo, that he threw his dinner knife at me. I remember reaching my hand around and under my shirt to feel my back, and I was shocked to see that I was bleeding a little. The knife had punctured my skin, but did not go very deep. Being a little boy of 10 years old I started crying and screaming when I saw the blood. My dad who was in the dining room came over to see what the ruckus was all about. My mom told my dad what happened and saw the blood on my fingers which caused him to give my brother an angry glare. My brother said to my dad in reference to me as I was crying and still upset, "Shut him up". I don't remember if my brother was punished for throwing the knife at me. If I was my dad I would have grabbed him (not that I condone corporal punishment), thrown him in his room, and grounded him for an indefinite period of time. Plus I would seek some kind of psychiatric treatment for him because this is NOT normal behavior. I could have been seriously hurt and all because I just wanted another Yoohoo drink? I remember my dad saying something to my brother but his main concern was seeing that I was ok. He checked and tended to my injury and made sure it wasn't serious.
Perhaps my parents didn't really know what to do with my brother. I look back and do tend to think of him as a little monster, but there were also times that he and I had fun doing things together. It's almost like my brother has a duel personality. I had the tendency to have more insight into his character and psychological state than anyone else. I tried to relate this information to my parents but they didn't really listen to me or give what I told them any credibility. I think they might have felt that I was just exaggerating things because I am his younger brother.
So let's see, when I last left off I was describing my older brother's apparently uncontrollable rage towards me, in particular.
I always assumed that my brother was "in my corner" (in a manner of speaking) simply because we were family. Little did I realize that he harbored feelings of jealousy, resentment, and,
perhaps as a result of the jealousy, an intense anger towards me. I mean, how could I know that he felt this way AND what did I do to cause it? I can not be blamed for being born and "raining on his parade". I didn't really have much choice in that area. I am also not to blame if he compares himself to me and feels that he comes up short in areas that I excel in. The problem with my brother is that he wants to be "better" than me in every and all ways. What "better" means I do not know. I guess it means smarter, more attractive to women, make more money, more popular, and the list goes on (just use your imagination).
As far back as I can remember I always felt that there was something he had against me. He was born in 1967 and I was born in 1969. Although my brother was just a young child when I was born, his intial reaction to me I find interesting and foreshadowing of his future general disposition towards me (in case you are wondering, of course I was much too young to remember this first meeting; it was later told to me by my mother). The day she left the hospital with me as a new born she had me in her arms and brought me over to my brother. She said to him, "Here's your baby brother". She told me later on when I was grown up that he took one look at me and his reaction was one of indifference. It was like no big deal, no big whoop. I have seen children even at young ages show affection or even say "cute baby" or even "I love you, baby brother" (or sister depending on the case). Even at the age of two and a half, my brother says and does squat. I find it to be rather foreboding.
As a young child I wanted nothing more than to be with my big brother (what can I tell you I didn't know any better). It was just an innocent normal desire of any little brother to want to be with his big brother. My brother hated me following him around our parents house and yard. The strange part is that he wasn't that much older than me. I could understand if he was 11 years old and I was 5, that he might feel embarrassed (although in the privacy of our parents house who's going to know if we play games or watch tv together). However, he was only two and a half years older than me. His violent tendencies towards me started during this time period. One particular time I was following him around, I followed him outside and he went into such a rage he shoved my face into a bush outside our parents house. I being a young child was upset and broke into tears while my brother ran away from home. My father went after him, and after finding him, took him to McDonald's. I don't mean to criticize my father's parenting but it's not exactly the punishment I would have expected. Granted McDonald's doesn't have the greatest food but I wouldn't call it a punishment (unless of course you are forced to eat it everyday, I suppose. well, that's getting off the subject). I have no idea what they talked about or if they talked about anything. Looking back I think I know what my father was trying to do, which was give my brother some attention because perhaps my brother felt like all the attention was going to his cute blond haired little brother. The trouble is, it also reinforces my brother's anti-social behavior. I believe because of this, my brother equated (albeit subconsciously) that if you go into a rage and act violently it gets you attention and solves your problem. That is the pattern my brother followed till the present day. Sad but true.
I always thought of myself as much more mature than him even when he and I were children. I had affection for my brother and thought dearly of him. I never tried to pick fights with him and just wanted us to act like buddies all the time. There was no reason to not get along. Unfortunately my brother was difficult and at anytime anything I did could irritate or annoy him, and provoke him into being mean to me. For instance, one time I was sitting harmlessly in the living room enjoying a cup of soda and he didn't like how I drank my soda. He yelled at me, "Whattya gotta sip it for? Just drink it"! When I went into the kitchen to get something I came back to find that he drank my drink which I had left in the living room. True, I could just go get more from the fridge, but the point is that I couldn't understand why the way I drank my soda would bother him so much. If it bothered him, why not just leave, go into a different room and not watch me drink? That's the continuing problem with my brother: that he wants everyone in the world to change to his liking, and it doesn't work that way. Besides, what harm was I doing if I like to sip my drink instead of gulping it down like a man dying of thirst? I must add, I also sipped quietly (although even if I was sipping noisily, he could just get up and go to another room). I admit one thing that can grate the nerves is a noisy sipper. Loud sips or slurps can be annoying, which coincidently is how my brother drinks. Apparently, he doesn't annoy himself. He would be mean to me and I think he thought it was funny. He also liked putting me down. For instance, I remember him calling me "sh*t for brains" (once again his feeling that he is smarter than me and his need to show it). I accepted his behavior as something a brother does to hide his real feelings of fondness and I figured in time he would grow out of it. I never had the desire to put him down or put anyone down for that matter.
I too had problems with rage although not to the degree my brother had (and which he still has). As we grew into young teenagers if my brother punched me, especially for what I felt was no reason, I punched him back and wanted to really hurt him (to basically give him what I feel he deserved). A childhood friend of mine who my brother became friends with as well, told me that he thought my brother and I would kill each other (figuretively speaking. I think). On the subject of childhood friends, generally speaking my brother never really had any friends of his own. I made friends with neighborhood kids who I met in elementary school and the Cub Scouts. When we were younger, I remember a group of kids that we played with who were in his age group that he knew from the Cub Scouts. In the family photo albums we have pictures of all of us playing together in our backyard. Eventually they didn't come around anymore.
I remember my first best friend. His name was Scott. Him and I even looked like brothers because we both had blond hair and blue eyes. I lived on a cul de sac and he lived on the street directly behind mine. His house was only two houses away from mine. There was a deer path that we could even take to get to each other's house. It only took a minute to cut through. It was so cool. We knew each other in elementary school, although I forgot how we came to meet each other. Eventually his family moved away and I remember we both felt sad that he had to go. He came back to visit every now and then but eventually we lost touch with each other. I still have wonderful memories I will never forget of Scott. He was the greatest. I loved playing with him and our toys. Although one thing I remember about him that makes me laugh (and is a bit gross) is that he didn't wash his hands after using the toliet. We were only about 5 years old so it is certainly understandable. Even at that age I tended to be rather fastidious about washing my hands after having a bowel movement. I didn't (and still do not) like the idea of getting any feces on my hands. I cringe at the thought. Scott would come back from the bathroom and resume playing with me and my toys. After he put a toy down and I picked it up to play with it, I would notice that it smelled like feces. When he wasn't looking I would take the toy to the bathroom and wash it off. I guess I was a bit of an unusual child.
Getting back to my brother, I want to mention that perhaps the comparison to Cain and Abel is a bit extreme but at times when he went into his rage it seemed like he wanted to kill me. I felt that he had an utter hatred for me. It often left me wondering why he wanted to spend time with me at all then. As we grew up, he wanted to spend even more time with me. It is like he can not stand to be alone for very long periods of time. Until fairly recently, he didn't like to do anything alone. There was one time when we were still living at home with our parents and I was sick with a fever that was over one hundred degrees. He wanted to go out and grab a bite to eat for dinner. He asked me if I was still too sick to go out and I said that I was (I really was). He quietly said, "Oh" and had a bummed out look on his face. I wondered why it was so important for me to go with him and why he seemed afraid to go by himself. After he walked away, my mother even commented, "He needs to get some friends". My brother had trouble making and keeping friends. As I mentioned earlier, my friends were his friends. Whenever my friends came over we would all hang out and do stuff together. Play video games, board games, sports in the back yard, etc. Unfortunately, it caused many fights, really obnoxious behavior from my brother, and evoked anxiety in me everytime we tried to do something with him.
For starters, he always had to win. If he didn't, look out! He would start to swear and basically lash out. This trend continued all the way to adulthood. Another problem was that he always had to beat ME. Nothing else mattered to my brother but winning, and in particular beating me. If he had to cheat to win, he would. He just could not face losing to me. As if it was a fate worse than death itself. I tried alot of times to avoid any competitions with him because he essentially stripped the fun out of it. We couldn't even be on the same side if playing against friends because he was always so overly critical of me, and it would just erupt into an argument. It was like there was no way to get through to him. He didn't want to cooperate with me or try to get close to me and be a good dear friend, as well as brother. I just do not understand him. He took pleasure when things went wrong for me. He didn't say anything but I could just tell by the way he acted. I think it made him feel more secure in a way about himself. He is very insecure and has the lowest self esteem. I thought my self esteem was low but his takes the cake. As a child he would even do things out of spite just to get even with me.
I remember one time my brother, my friend Pat (short for Patrick), and I were playing football in the backyard. It was winter time and I believe there was a bit of snow on the ground. I was about 14 or 15 years old and my brother was 17 or 18. My brother and I were playing against each other while my friend Pat played quarterback for both sides. This one particular play, I went out for really a long pass. Pat threw the ball and it went over my head in front of me as I was running towards one of the trees in the yard that represented the beginning of the end zone (I apologize to any readers who are not familiar with American football). As I ran and saw the ball in front of me, I dove out with feet up in the air and my arms stretched out making an amazing catch! Well, at least for me it was an amazing catch considering I never really considered myself athletic. I didn't make a touchdown but it moved the ball just a few feet to the end zone.
I had lost my brother behind me but not too far behind me. As I laid on the ground after this incredible feat (since I had to dive out in front of me to catch the ball I had no choice but to hit the ground on my chest, but don't worry I wasn't hurt), my brother runs from behind and as he is running past me, kicks me in the side of the head with the heel of his boot on purpose. I said, "Owww"! and I was also pissed because I knew he did it on purpose. My brother could have easily gotten around me without kicking me. I saw him go out of his way to turn his foot so his heel would hit me in the head, plus after I said, "Owww" he said (in a whiny tone), "Well, why did you have to catch it for"? He was mad that I caught the ball so he kicked me in the head out of spite. Real mature behavior from someone who is a young adult. See what I had to endure as a child? Unfortunately this kind of behavior continued from childhood to, basically, the present day (next year he will be 40 years old. Don't worry he is not married and does not have any children. I doubt he will ever reproduce).
Although this one event sticks out in my memories, there are others that are just as painful. One such incident involved my brother getting mad at me and throwing a knife at me. I think I was about 10 years old and my brother was 12. My family was finishing eating and I was still thirsty so I mentioned that I was going to get another Yoohoo Chocolate drink (it was one of my favorite drinks). I started to head for the refrigerator while my brother yells out, "No, you pig"! My mom tells me not to, but I go ahead anyway because I figure what's the big deal. I start to drink it and walk past the table where my brother is still sitting finishing his dinner. As I walk past while enjoying my drink I get about two feet from him when I felt something hit my back. It was his dinner knife. He threw it at me. He was so enraged over the fact I wanted a second Yoohoo, that he threw his dinner knife at me. I remember reaching my hand around and under my shirt to feel my back, and I was shocked to see that I was bleeding a little. The knife had punctured my skin, but did not go very deep. Being a little boy of 10 years old I started crying and screaming when I saw the blood. My dad who was in the dining room came over to see what the ruckus was all about. My mom told my dad what happened and saw the blood on my fingers which caused him to give my brother an angry glare. My brother said to my dad in reference to me as I was crying and still upset, "Shut him up". I don't remember if my brother was punished for throwing the knife at me. If I was my dad I would have grabbed him (not that I condone corporal punishment), thrown him in his room, and grounded him for an indefinite period of time. Plus I would seek some kind of psychiatric treatment for him because this is NOT normal behavior. I could have been seriously hurt and all because I just wanted another Yoohoo drink? I remember my dad saying something to my brother but his main concern was seeing that I was ok. He checked and tended to my injury and made sure it wasn't serious.
Perhaps my parents didn't really know what to do with my brother. I look back and do tend to think of him as a little monster, but there were also times that he and I had fun doing things together. It's almost like my brother has a duel personality. I had the tendency to have more insight into his character and psychological state than anyone else. I tried to relate this information to my parents but they didn't really listen to me or give what I told them any credibility. I think they might have felt that I was just exaggerating things because I am his younger brother.
posted by Conundrum of My Mind at 4/05/2006 06:33:00 AM
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