There’s some stuff I want to get down about boundaries and privilege and uncertainty.

It is a massive privilege in my mind to be able to have healthy boundaries. And to have those healthy boundaries WORK. What this means is that there are times and situations at least in my life; but I can extrapolate this suspicion to the lives of potential others, where I have not been able to have healthy boundaries with other people because of either my ignorance of them or external factors that suck.

I’m in a situation as such right now in my life.

It requires a lot of personal explanation of things that are not mine to explain and so I shall not.

Suffice to say my younger brother is now living with my mother and I. I had more or less freaked out and decided that the best thing for me to do was move out and so I packed away everything not essential and cleaned up my basement space and did some things that help with the heat retention of the house in general and got ready to move. I’ll relay some experiences to explain the level of bullshit that is involved here. He has since decided he won’t live in the basement and that if he has to live here he’s going to do it in the outbuilding that is livable but kind of …. gross at the moment. It needs an amount of work.

So once my potential benefits of evacuating this space became skewed against the consequences of leaving sooner than I was ready to with YB deciding to do the work in the shed…. now I have a kind of wonderful little basement space that holds heat okish and I can have an art table, a computer table and a space to hula hoop in. Providing YB doesn’t eventually want half this space… and he seems committed to the gross outbuilding, I have a space that is mine and I worked to make it nice because I wanted to leave it a nice space but if the person that benefits is me? Then this is a win. I still need to take a damp cloth and go over every single surface in the place including my room. Because my father planed 300 or so oak floorboards down here. And I have been cleaning that up since February in bits and pieces. I don’t know if I have the pictures of the origins here. But the finished ones are going to be pretty ok. The ceiling is high enough to practice small props here and if I keep the hoop on my body I can hoop my brains out down here.

Pros of leaving:

  • Get away from family and their problems. Focus on my own.
  • Get to a bigger city center with more social resources and live in a busable area of town.
  • Live with a cool friend. Access to other friends.
  • Access to Vancouver.
  • Access to life in Nanaimo including but not limited to dance, circus and other things.

Cons of leaving:

  • Potentially not getting my feet under me economically and setting myself backwards job wise and otherwise.
  • Freedom to smoke my various substances impinged.
  • Potentially setting myself backwards in the quest for a car.
  • Putting myself in a situation without the resources to get onto my feet.
  • Removing my moderating effect on YB.
  • Removing my positive effects for my mother.
  • Removing my helpful potential for YB.
  • Removing my helpful potential for my mother.

So I stay for now. Until the pro of removing myself from this situation gets significant enough that I value it more than the detracting factors for leaving.

The situation: My YB is sort of in a crisis. He knows that he needs help but he isn’t happy to be here and he is very stressed out and unhappy about some horrific circumstances he’s been put in through the past while. None of it is ok and very little of it is his fault.

Nonetheless. YB is capable of and commonly displays violent, destructive and downright abusive behaviours. More towards my mother than to me. Whether he feels safer to do these things to mum than to me or whether he just gets madder at her than me, or he controls himself better around me because he thinks I’m fragile, or because he knows I have the same depth of crazy he has and if I snap we both know he is stronger and bigger than me but I have a depth of rage and violence in me that frightens me and neither of us want to get into fisticuffs with each other because we both would do things we regret. And I know I’d come off worse but I would sure as hell do my best to fuck him up if he came at me physically. I’m older and wily and I know full well strength is not my resource. (He probably has been up against stronger more violent foes than himself too and so this is not something I ought to bank on. I am not genuinely afraid for my physical safety. He somewhat specifically goes for objects (chairs, stuff, etc) and his own belongings in semi-controlled outbursts that seem anything but.

Since he has lived here he has: Kicked over a chair, the heater, and possibly once ore for the chair. Thrown my mother’s phone against the fire place out of its case. Destroyed his own phone that he bought impulsively not knowing if it would work the way he wanted it to rather than taking it back. I’ll note he did this during a fight with my mom about whether or not he was going to use HER phone; which he does while removing it from it’s otterbox regardless of her requests or orders not to do so. And the fight culminated with him screaming about how much he wanted to and how many times he’d tried to kill himself. I really need to take blame for planting this toxic seed in his head because I ended more than one but less than ten fights with him at a very young age by screaming about how much I was at risk to kill myself. Its not something I can ever forgive myself for. But at it’s core this threat and admission comes from pain and though manipulative really needs to be addressed.

I will note also that he doesn’t get to this level with me anymore. We haven’t had a fight longer than a minute and a half since I moved out and we often get to something rational pretty quickly. We both work at this. I believe that it is because he feels safer with mom as to why he treats her this way and not me. Not in a physical sense but more in that he trusts she will still love him no matter how he treats her… I don’t WANT him to feel safe enough with me to treat me this way…. I don’t want ANYBODY to ever feel safe enough with me to treat me this way.

Without me around to keep an external lid on his volumetric expansion during crisis to keep external reason for him to control himself. I don’t really know how this would go for my mother.

My father has been telling him about the outbuilding and how great it could be. But I suspect that this is because he wants a reason to hang around at the property. Which neither my mother or I are happy about. I don’t necessarily fear physical violence from him either.

The ways in which I had to change my usual boundaries of not asking people for help in order to be able to be ready to move on Friday if it would help. I got to telling my mother and brother and within a night YB had made his intents clear upon the crud outbuilding.

And I like my space a hell of a lot more now that I had external pressure to make me go.

 

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