Update for the 16th of September, 2004
Today, it's my brothers birthday.
Since I don't have anything extremely intresting to say for today, I will talk about my brother.
When I've called him and wished him a happy birthday....
There. He wasn't home...
My brother isn't my full-blooded brother. He's only my half brother. His my fathers kid, that he got five years before he met my mom. My brother is six years and two months older than me. He studies medicine in a city 100 miles from where I live.
When we were younger, I always jumped up and ran to hug my brother when he came to visit, every second weekend. His visits were rare, but welcomed with screams and me flying through the room to get to hug him.
When we were younger, he was mean to me, from time to time. I can't count the times where he's hit me.
But that changed, when he turned teenager. Like every other teenager, you evolve and get more mature. The roles were turned around, and there were times where I was the one that was corrected, because I hit him. I am experimenting it with my own sister (4 years younger than me)
So. About my brother. When he got older, and we both entered the teenage years (me way behind though), we became very close. He was always a person I could turn to for help, would it be home work or something social. I've always talked high about my brother. One time, half a year ago or so, when he came home, I was sitting at the table, star(r)ing at my plate. Earlier that day, my mom and dad had told me how ugly they thought I was, and that I was an embarassment to them. I ventured home from school after two hours, because I was practicly in tears and I didn't want anyone to see me cry. When dad came home (bringing my brother) my dad started to swear at me. I can't remember the direct words, but he called me a fat lardbag and stuff like that. When I got up and brought my plate with me, he called me something really cruel that I can't translate. I saw red. I really, saw red. I smashed the plate down the floor with all the power I could manage and made a large wide crack in the wooden floor, because I started screaming at my dad. If my mom hadn't caught the cup, I would've smashed that too. If she hadn't caught me and dragged me into my room, I would have attacked my dad and clawed him.
My mom yelled and me and said; "In this house, we solve our problems with words!". Though later, when she let me out of the bathroom, she was gentle and understanding.
Long story. Well. I was lying in m bed, trying not to cry when my brother came in. He bended down and hugged me, and lied there with me in the bed. He said;
"I understand Julie. Out of anyone, I understand. Don't be embarassed of yourself, that was perfectly normal."
He started to explain to me how he'd had it. He said that if he'd had it hard, mine would be encreased tenfold, since I live here permanently and look more like my dad.
He was so caring... so understanding. I've never had anyone care for me like that. It almost makes me cry again... because lately, we never see. We don't know what to say to eachother. And it pains me to know that I might be loosing the brother I love more than anything.
Since I don't have anything extremely intresting to say for today, I will talk about my brother.
When I've called him and wished him a happy birthday....
There. He wasn't home...
My brother isn't my full-blooded brother. He's only my half brother. His my fathers kid, that he got five years before he met my mom. My brother is six years and two months older than me. He studies medicine in a city 100 miles from where I live.
When we were younger, I always jumped up and ran to hug my brother when he came to visit, every second weekend. His visits were rare, but welcomed with screams and me flying through the room to get to hug him.
When we were younger, he was mean to me, from time to time. I can't count the times where he's hit me.
But that changed, when he turned teenager. Like every other teenager, you evolve and get more mature. The roles were turned around, and there were times where I was the one that was corrected, because I hit him. I am experimenting it with my own sister (4 years younger than me)
So. About my brother. When he got older, and we both entered the teenage years (me way behind though), we became very close. He was always a person I could turn to for help, would it be home work or something social. I've always talked high about my brother. One time, half a year ago or so, when he came home, I was sitting at the table, star(r)ing at my plate. Earlier that day, my mom and dad had told me how ugly they thought I was, and that I was an embarassment to them. I ventured home from school after two hours, because I was practicly in tears and I didn't want anyone to see me cry. When dad came home (bringing my brother) my dad started to swear at me. I can't remember the direct words, but he called me a fat lardbag and stuff like that. When I got up and brought my plate with me, he called me something really cruel that I can't translate. I saw red. I really, saw red. I smashed the plate down the floor with all the power I could manage and made a large wide crack in the wooden floor, because I started screaming at my dad. If my mom hadn't caught the cup, I would've smashed that too. If she hadn't caught me and dragged me into my room, I would have attacked my dad and clawed him.
My mom yelled and me and said; "In this house, we solve our problems with words!". Though later, when she let me out of the bathroom, she was gentle and understanding.
Long story. Well. I was lying in m bed, trying not to cry when my brother came in. He bended down and hugged me, and lied there with me in the bed. He said;
"I understand Julie. Out of anyone, I understand. Don't be embarassed of yourself, that was perfectly normal."
He started to explain to me how he'd had it. He said that if he'd had it hard, mine would be encreased tenfold, since I live here permanently and look more like my dad.
He was so caring... so understanding. I've never had anyone care for me like that. It almost makes me cry again... because lately, we never see. We don't know what to say to eachother. And it pains me to know that I might be loosing the brother I love more than anything.