I grew up as the youngest child of three. I guess one could say that I was that child that the older siblings did boss around, especially my older sister who was 4 years older than me. She definitely was the boss and things had to be "her" way. She did hate my brother though and even tried to kill him when he was little by trying to shove a facecloth in his mouth.

My older brother was a challenge, my mother had to watch him as he would get out of the house and go off, went down to the wetlands alot and my mother would often have to go looking for him. I think he either had ADHD or is on the autisic spectrum. My parents were very frustrated with him, I was afraid of him as I was so little. I remember sitting in the waiting room of a psychiatrist my parents took him to and praying that man would know how to help my older brother. After him seeing the psychiatrist, everything got worse, the psychiatrist instructed my parents to keep diciplining him, do not coddle him or even bath him he told my mother. The dicipline seemed constant and my brother was taken out to a shed out back and we could hear him screaming and crying and I remember how upsetting that was. Now that I think about it, I don't think my father liked that, I think he was just following directions about "keep strong dicipline". I do remember my mother pacing the floors during these episodes saying how she felt it was wrong, "A mother is supposed to cuddle and care for a child" she would say. They did fight about it too as my father kept reminding her how the psychiatrist strictly expressed how important strong dicipline was.

Then when it came time for me to start school and get on the school bus from the first day I got to see how all the children on the bus were treating my brother horribly. They would not sit with him and picked on him the entire route to school. He did not fight back, he looked out the window and often tears were running down his cheeks. It was just as bad at school as ALL the adults were constantly punishing him and making him sit in the corner or sit in the principles office. All of this stressed him so badly that he would wet his bed, pee on the floor and suck his thumb ravonously all night long and his lips were always swollen and blistering, it did not matter how bad his lips got, what my parents put on his thumb, he would still suck on it in his sleep. The other children made fun of him and all called him "big lips" and chant songs about big lips on the bus. Yes, he got spanked for wetting his bed too and sucking his thumb, he still did it and my mother had to make his bed with shower curtains. The advice was always the same, firmer dicipline and I saw him endure that from EVERYONE.

I saw he had NO ONE so I became his friend, I had to play with him in secret though as my older sister always threatened me "you better not play with him" and give me a mean face.

Grammer school seemed forever because he stayed back twice and I stayed back once.
I stayed back because by the time I got to school I was exhausted from seeing him picked on and seeing him trying so hard to bear it. I now realize that I struggled to pay attention in school because I was not only stressed out by the time I got there, but I was constantly worried about him all day because of how everyone was so mean to him.

But, when I played with him so he would have "someone" he was not a bad child, he loved to play, he could be a good boy and it seemed like I was the only one who could see that. I even remember vividly how this group of boys were going to beat him up.
I did not want him to be alone so I dressed up like a boy with a baseball cap. And when the group of boys came and stood there at a distance talking about how they were going to beat him up, I still remember how I thought that I was probably going to be beaten up because I had no idea how to fight. I just knew that I had to stand there and act like I was not scared and more than willing to fight. We got lucky, our plan worked, because my brother was not alone, these boys did not engage in beating him up.

However, as my brother struggled so much every day, he would get so he got to a point where the anger would build up in him and he would need to rage. I had to learn when that was going to happen because then I would have to run and hide. I used to climb these tall pine trees I was probably 40ft up because I could see all the roof tops. I would have to wait there until my mother would get home. I never blamed my brother because I knew he had just reached that rage level and I was often amazed at how long he would endure until that would happen.

Oh, the teachers were so mean to him and I especially remember his sixth grade teacher who was a very tall man who told him he should not even go to school because he was so stupid and would never amount to anything. This teacher hit him with rulers and throw erasers at him and make him sit in the corner and that only encouraged other kids to reject him even more. I remember worrying about him during his recess because then the other children would pick on him, he would have no one to play with him. I was always worried about him, honestly I don't know how I learned anything, I was alway so distracted and worried and tired too. The teachers were picking on me too, scolding me about not paying attention enough. I remember I did get sick a lot too, and I almost died of phemonia because of sitting up in those pine trees so long in the cold.

I will stop there because I have to go do my day.