Dark days

Three days ago, my brother bashed me.

I went to his store with a gift for his daughter, my baby niece who I'd met only once before.

He was infuriated.
He was ready to fight.
He yelled louder than I could speak.
He shoved me stronger than I could balance on my heels.

Three times he threw me to the ground. Twice I rose, defiant at the injustice, that I would be treated this way.
To be yelled at with so much passion.
To have his finger stabbing the air right in front of my face.
To hear 'I work 6 days a week to support my family' yelled at the top of his lungs, at my face, over and over, for no apparent reason.

The third time i found myself on the ground, I didn't defy. I scrambled out of the door like an animal. He'd thrown me into furniture, I had banged my head, injured my shoulder.. the thought ran through my head 'he's not going to stop!' My shoes had flown off my feet. He at least had the courtesy to throw my handbag from the doorway of his store onto the pavement where I could collect it and its contents from the ground.

While I cried and put on my stilettos, he paced out front of his store taunting, saying I was an embarrassment, that everyone was watching and laughing at me. He told passer-bys, with a cool calm demeanor, that I was crazy and was being 'collected' shortly. It would be no wonder if they thought I was crazy, I couldn't stop crying. Not the done thing in a quiet leafy suburb like Albert Park.

He threw the gift for my niece onto the pavement near me.
Each time I tried to say something, he cut me off, his voice was bigger than mine.

I left his store stunned and hurt - emotionally as well as physically.

I was devastated that he had treated me this way yet again. Though to be completely honest, this was the worst by far.

I was totally devastated that his wife ran and hid and left me with him.

And i was bitterly outraged that his neighbour, despite my plea for help from my curled up position on the floor, walked away and did not call the police as I pleaded for his help.

And for the first time, I was ANGRY!! So angry!

Angry that he used that oldtime 1940s favourite: 'mental problems' as an excuse to condone his behavior.
Angry that I would be perceived as having mental problems by ignorant family and friends.

And I am furious at him for never being a brother.
Never being an uncle to my children. Never being an ally.

I know I have actually lost nothing. No one.

But I am angry that he has so swindled people into believing that I have 'mental' problems, so that his unprovoked violent behavior may somehow be excused when in fact I have years of post-grad medical education under my belt and worked at a senior level to state government ministers. I raised my now-teenage children as a sole parent amidst the urban city life. And I own my home in a socio-economically affluent part of town.

Despite the betrayal, I fear for the safety of his wife and of course, my baby niece with whom he has not allowed me contact since her birth.

My mother, although she was present, said nothing to condemn his abhorrent behavior. In fact, I was blamed for having chosen to personally deliver the gift to my niece.

How is it that, because it is family, everyone turned their back on such ugly and brutal violence?

That because I was beaten and sustained injuries inflicted by my brother, we wouldn't contemplate calling the police?

Just because we share the same parents does not mean he couldn't have killed me. The way he threw me around like I was trash, it was absolute feasible that he could have killed me, broken my neck or fractured my skull. I'm gutsy and I don't frighten easily. But he was beyond reason and I was scared for my life.

Although I am bruised and wear aches and grazes of my brother's attention, I am glad that our relationship has crystallized.

No longer can he say that I am welcome I their home.
No longer can he say that I am excluding myself from the baby's life.

And he can no longer stand by that great lie that he was disappointed that I didn't attend her 1st birthday party. I grieved that day. I had no idea when or where the party would be. I had not been invited not informed of the event.

And now everyone knows how hateful and violent and dishonest he is. Whether his mindless supporters choose to acknowledge that he is a violent sociopath is another story.

But I hope that this story makes its way to my sister in law and eventually to my niece because I want them to know that I will love and support them no matter what and I will always be here for them with open arms.

And for that violent sociopath, I don't care that we are related. He is disrespectful and he is violent. Neither trait have I any respect for. And his overstatement that I am never welcome at his house or in his family is unnecessary because I could never again trust him in my vicinity.

Violence against women is wrong, no matter who the perpetrator is.
Violence against women is too prevalent!! The number one killer of women aged 24-44, violence by far beats cancer as the leading cause of death and disability.

If you witness violence being inflicted upon another person, call the police! It's nothing to the witness to dial 000 but the action may mean saving the life of another.