Post Seven: Let's talk about nasty

There are about 50 synonyms for nasty in the Thesaurus, so if nasty does not do it for you, pick an adjective that does these stories justice.

Younger brothers used to wet the bed. Well past the point where a normal parent would have consulted medical advice (that includes you Dad). One day, Momster was in a rage and she made me watch as she forced youngest brother on his knees to wipe his face across a urine soaked bed, chanting, "I must not wet the bed". Not once. Not twice. But 10 times for good measure. I was made to watch so I could 'learn'.

I hated her for humiliating him. But she reinforced the fear-of-Mum in me without having to raise a hand at the time. Clever huh?

Hey there Uncle P. Don't you love your sister's behaviour? Do you think this is reasonable behaviour, from an adult to a child? An adult who is supposed to protect and nurture and love?

Or how about the time I got a sustained belting because she was trying to get older brother to confess to some misdemeanour of a crime (he was smoking in his bedroom). He didn't confess (and we did not dob on each other) so I kept getting belted. When she gave up he was sent to his room. She stopped hitting me and harrumphed, "He doesn't care about you much, does he?"

Or the time older brother was driven from the house as a teenager, by her, on purpose. She picked a fight with him, badgered him, belittled him. He finally struck out at her and she kicked him out, at night, telling him to never come back. I hated her then as well and silently said to myself, come back a success brother, prove her wrong.

To understand the above story you need a bit of context that only hindsight can provide. 

See, she had a plan. Drive oldest son out of the house, send two younger sons to separate boarding schools, dump me on her mother in another state, leave the husband and hang out with the boyfriend. Worked perfectly for her. Not so good for us. You were an adult Dad, you should have spoken for us.

Or how about the time as a 16 year old I tried to tell her (while she was driving) that I was sexually assaulted on a date. I was expecting some protection, understanding, a kind word? Nope. 

Her left arm flings out smacking me in the side of my head. Then she shoves my head into the car window a few times with the words, "I don't want to hear it. That'll teach you to remember your place". 

WTF? Remember my place? As what? Garbage?

Or the day when I was about 16/17 years old and she stood us both in front of a full length mirror and compared our bodies. She was taller, I got my father's chest, my legs were longer than hers...but that meant I was out of proportion. But I had nice eyebrows. She would swap our eyebrows.

The stories could go on but the most telling story of all is, I have no memory, at any age, of Momster ever hugging me or comforting me (Disclaimer: except when there was an audience to see her do it).

Not once. Giving comfort takes empathy you see and N's don't do empathy. They don't do anything that does not start and end with themselves.

Joke: Why don't N's read much?

A: The stories aren't about them (boom tish!).