Excuse me as I express myself, but I have been told to keep writing and that others might need to read what I am writing about. Turns out that what I write about is what hurts the most. My most private and intimate pains sprawled about in letters that form words, that somehow transcribe a sentiment that is eating me alive. I sit for hours. Do you? You see, I sit and stare. Do you? I stare at pictures of people. Do you? You see, I stare at the pictures of the ones that are gone, deceased. Yeah, that ugly word that has to forcefully come to mind when I am discussing my brother. Death, death came and stole the soul of my brother like the thief in the night on December 4th, 2017. There was no warning, just a quick stop, a drive by if you will and gone. Like the sun makes the night disappear, so did my brother. The breath taken from his lungs by a group of letters that form the words…mitochondrial infarction. These letter, these words, they are more than just letters and syllables, they are pain. They just name the reason why my brother is no longer here on a lyrical form, but it goes further than those words typed out on his death certificate.
He was the exact same makeup of me. He was the flesh and blood of my parents, the oldest, the meanest, the baddest, and the hardest and in all that, there was a sweet man and boy at heart. He taught me the things only he could teach me, wisdom imparted to me by a sibling that had suffered from a young age. He suffered atrocities as I did and only we knew what made us tick. We knew exactly why we did the things that we did. That we ran to the drugs that were nothing but a momentary mask, a band aid if you will. The band aid that we wanted nothing more than to rip off of our existence but couldn’t. To allow air to flow and allow all the evil that was beneath that cover to heal. But, for some reason, for him that freedom, that healing wasn’t obtainable. Sometimes, our souls are so damaged that these unfortunate events happen, death that is. When we search out to not hurt anymore and just cope on a daily basis and then our choices make our lives come to an end.
My brother found his freedom in drugs and only truly escaped when he was on the waters of the Everglades of Florida. He considered himself an Everbilly. A term that is half Everglades and half Hill billy. He was so proud of that title. He said it with pride. He enjoyed the Lilly pads and the alligators peeking their eyes through the water staring back at him. He loved that they were a prehistoric creature that survived the test of time. He called them big lizards. So, now I see them as big lizards. I live vicariously through his memory and the things he loved and did. I will be amongst the lily pads soon, visiting the waters that produced joy in the heart of my sweet brother, who wanted nothing more than to be free from the childhood abuse he received at the hands of sick people, as did I. I am grateful that I could as a woman talk about what I went through, but it is harder for men to do so. It is unfair that a man feels that he can’t speak out the abuse he received as a child because he might be looked at as weirdo for doing so. There is such a stigma! That a man is supposed to suck up life’s issues and move along. As if they have no feelings. This is wrong and things need to change.
I want to speak a freedom out there into this world for men who have been hurt as children and need help freeing that child from the abuse that they are still holding onto in that adult heart, mind and soul. It’s time, to push this agenda of freedom. We all deserve to shame the devil and bring about the light into this world, through healing and renewal within ourselves. It’s time, for our brothers, fathers, uncles, cousins and husbands, to be able to divulge the poison that they hold so shamefully hidden in deep dark places that light must shine, to remove that illness and allow healing. I invite you to encourage gentle conversations in prayer if it may be, when you sit and pray and speak to your maker. Let the will of healing exist within your home. We as women must be encouraging with our men, when speaking with them about these subjects. Just know that with love and patience and tenacity, something better can be accomplished than the road that we have all been so blindly on. ... See MoreSee Less
An epic day of prep for the SSI international survivors conference, WOW what a team we had today! <3 huge respect for everyone who is helping make this awesome event happen. ... See MoreSee Less