Thursday, February 2, 2017

Mad at You

I'm mad at you, child.

You never seem to listen.

I'm sorry your brother has developmental disabilities.

I'm sorry that your father and I each had our own cancers to deal with.

I know you're only 7. 

But I am pulling back from defending you.

Your brother has a really hard fucking time controlling himself and the result is he hits you.

A lot.

And the result of him hitting you is that you scream.

A lot.

And, goddamnit it has got to stop because it makes me feel like I can't breathe and I get really angry really fast and then I feel crazy and I want to scream right back at you and shake you and beat him.

But I don't.

Except for the screaming. I've gotten pretty fucking good at screaming. The stress and the pressure from the last two years of dealing with cancers have taken their toll. God knows I ain't Mother fucking Teresa. I'm not a particularly patient person, I loose my cool, and I scream and yell.

And, yes, I recognize the goddamned irony.

I am so fucking tired of screaming and yelling and so I'm done. 

Because here's the deal: you know how to defend yourself.

You are becoming a Martial Artist.

I don't know what belt you have to earn to officially become a Martial Artist, that's Mrs. V's decision. But I know Mrs. V supports you defending yourself. Do you remember what she told you?

Essentially, if you really want to become a Martial Artist, you'll stop screaming when your brother hits you and you'll start defending yourself.

I know he's got at least 75 pounds on you; he weighs more than me.

And I am well aware that he's nearly 5 feet tall; he's almost as tall as me.

But you're a higher belt than him and you need to know how to get out of that shit anyway. Think of it as your own personal training program. And truth be told, as painful as it is for me to say, you are light years beyond your big brother in intelligence.

And so, for my own health, both mentally and physically, I'm stepping back.

So, my sweet boy, with regards to your brother hitting you: when you are sick and tired of being sick and tired, you'll do something about it.

No, I will never let your brother use his developmental disabilities as an excuse to act like a mean person who bullies his brother.

And I will never let you use your brother's developmental disabilities as an excuse to not defend yourself.

Don't worry about hurting him. Because of his sensory integration disorder he will likely not feel too much pain. And if, in the off chance, something gets broken, I know the number for 911.

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