My dearest brother. I love my brother beyond reason, he’s in many ways a true copy of myself, but we have never been able to communicate. We can’t talk about things that matter, we talk movies, cars, golf and sheep. It’s stupid really, but I learned communicating emotions when I was eighteen, my brother has never learned this fundamental skill.
We never used to discuss feelings in my family, only opinions and states of mind. We have all become much better, but my father and mother have both been raised by very strict parents, in families where you never complained and spoke about your feelings, and of course this has affected how me and my siblings have been raised.
My sister learned how to talk about her feeling when she went away to boarding school. She’s a very extrovert person, where me and my brother are very introvert. I love being an introvert person most of the time, I love being in my head. My head is my favourite place in the entire world, this may sound weird but it is. It’s the one place I can always escape to, when the outside gets to be too much, which it does most of the time lately.
My only problem is that sometimes my mind works against me, and then I am unable to do anything. Ever since I was a child and trouble or chaos started happening around me I retrieved myself to my head. By doing this for over fifteen years my head has gotten too much power and is now dragging me in sometimes. I’m not quite sure whether or not this makes sense to you, but I hope you can understand this. My boyfriend has helped me a lot with this, by not allowing me to disappear but instead forcing me to talk about what’s occupying my twisted mind. He didn’t do it on purpose actually, I was just so afraid of loosing him that I had to change. I’m not okay yet, but I’m getting there. I wanna be in control so it kinda scares me that I’ve allowed myself to lose control of myself this way.
What this post actually is about is my need to escape sometimes, and right now my favourite place has become an enemy that want let go, if I go there. So where can I go? I used to go sit in my horse Lise’s stall, just sitting in the corner looking at her. Or watching her on the field or race on her through the forest. She was my escape. I don’t think that I’ll ever really accept a life without her, I just miss her every day. Yesterday two of my dearest friends and I decided to take a trip to the forest on our horses. I’m looking after this black mare, Rosita two days a week so she was my ride. Galloping on her, down the very same track I used to with Lise was a very tough experience. Rosita is sweet and she really enjoyed running as fast as I dared let her. I wanted to let go and just let her find her own pace, but I don’t know her all that well. It was fun, but I didn’t feel as free as I did on Lise. I can’t count the times where I’ve put my life in Lise’s care, I never feared just letting her run. My favourite thing was riding around alone on her, she easily got distracted by other horses. But, when we were alone she would follow me anywhere and never doubt my decisions for even a second. I could just let go and just let her run, I knew that I could stop her and she was extremely sure on her feet. When we were walking she would constantly trip over her own legs or a little crack on the road, but the second we set up the pace she never tripped. I miss the freedom I felt sitting on her back. I just miss every little part of her.
I miss just watching her.
This post was actually supposed to be about my relationship with my brother, but Lise just came along and stole his thunder.
My brother is an amazing person and it’s weird how I feel connected with him even when we are not even in the same zip-code. If he’s in a bad mood I simply can’t help myself, and I instantly feel bad. Luckily it also works when he’s in a good mood.
He’s very strong and proud. But with the same fragile mind as me. An unpayed bill can keep us awake for days and even though we try to hide it, we just can’t. He’s good at hiding his emotions, but when he can’t, he really can’t. Just like me. We can hide everything for days until our facade just falls apart, and then we can both be a nightmare to be around.
He has a lot of dreams, but neither the ambition nor energy to see them through. Just like me. All dreams seem hopeless and then we just ignore them, trying to tell ourselves that we really wanna be where we are. Even though it’s slowly killing us.
I wish we could talk about real things and I wish that he knew how alike we really are. But he will always see me as a weak lazy girl, and that will always hurt more than I’ll ever admit.
My brother is amazing. I love him. It makes me sad that he’s in a job he dislikes and that he’s working his ass of both at work and at home. He has very little free time in which he has very little energy. I really wish that someday all his dreams will come true. He truly deserves it, more than anyone I know. He has paid his dues.
So, there you go a very mixed post. I could also have written a section on carrots, beer or bicycles but that probably would have been to weird, so I’ll stop now. 😉