Friday, February 26, 2016

Letter mailed to my Florida Brother-in-Law

Scroll down in post for letter to my brother-in-law

I don't know how long I have left on this earth. What bothers me is what most of my family doesn't know, or doesn't want to acknowledge. Is a baby, toddler, child, tween, and teenager who is physically and psychologically abused to be shunned by others for life? Shouldn't the abuser be shamed or called out for the abuse?

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[The Stark Raving Viking blog

http://starkravingviking.blogspot.com/2014/10/open-letter-to-ct-atty-gen-george-jepsen.html

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The below is the text of the letter that I mailed out today:

Matt,                                                                                                2-26-16
I want to get back in with all family except for my father. I am asking for your help.

We seemed to get along great and were developing a friendship after we first met. We were then in the company of my father laughing, and smiling. My father then yelled at me in front of you saying that I like boating, was a contractor, and was just using you to go boating and to go to Florida. You never treated me the same after that. My father taught you that it makes him happy to disrespect and abuse me, even if you were just a witness.

Phil told me that my father didn’t want him hanging out with me because I was self-employed and that made me a liar and thief. This is while Phil was self-employed at his auto shop and into when he worked for a dealership. When that didn’t work, my father made plans with Phil every weekend and chance he could so I could not hang out with Phil.        

Seems odd, I know. My mother couldn’t leave me alone with my father when I was a baby and toddler, he’d choke, slap, punch, and put lit cigars in my face. My eyelids were cinged (sp?) at least twice. I developed asthma early. I was punched, slapped, choked out and sent to the basement for having symptoms. My mother was told not to be nice to me as I would get spoiled. When my mother rubbed Vicks Vapo Rub on my chest, I woke up to my father ripping open my pajama top, knocking over my vaporizer, and then choking me out before telling me that my mother was his, not mine, and she was to do things for him, not me.

I remember the first time I had friends over. I was smiling and joyful. My joy was an anger trigger for my father and I was often punished or assaulted for it. My father screamed at me and my little friends that we were playing wrong. After my friends left crying, my father told me that he didn’t have friends when he was growing up and he didn’t enjoy his childhood, so I wouldn’t either. If anyone was nice to me, my father told me I was supposed to ask why, and to ask how I was so annoying, and how could I fix myself. How do you think that worked out for my early development?

I was told from a very young age, and all the way up, that I would never amount to anything, that I would not go to college, have a job, and was going to end up in prison. I was told I was going to be too short to play sports or for anyone to like me, and that I have Asthma. He also said that no one would care when I died and no one would come to my funeral. My father said that I needed to find someone else to support me and that he could disown me at anytime and no one would blame him. This was his mantra with me from my first memories.

Why am I telling you this? Well, every relationship I have ever had, my father has done something to make me look bad or ruin the relationship, 100%. Cindy and I were together 5 years, and the first exposure to him at your wedding time ended that relationship. My father just kept yelling at us, saying I had missed a credit card payment, and that Cindy had bad credit so we were too irresponsible to be together. The first time he met Rasa, he just wouldn’t stop screaming at me, saying I was a contractor so I was a criminal who would not make enough money to be with a woman so pretty, and being a model was not a real job.

100% of the girlfriend who were around me and my father saw me getting yelled at and dressed down, repeatedly. The last 3 girlfriends, before [current romantic interest's name snipped], I had in New Hampshire and Vermont, women my father never met, the relationship ended with my father calling local or State Police to tell them I had radical ideas, was crazy, and was anti-police and he’d tell them my girlfriend’s names, addresses, and descriptions of their vehicles. Each relationship was destroyed, I got fired from my job, I had to drive something else, and I had to find somewhere else to live. So, I quit talking to my father and my life improved and I have a loving relationship, unmolested by him, for the first time in my life.

Rewind, back to Killington ski vacation, where I was there with my wife Rasa. The weekend started by being yelled at by my father over the phone about my not being good enough to be with the rest of the family, etc. Then, his theme was that Rasa was too skinny, so she was Anorexic or Bolemic (sp?), and it was my fault. My father then started hanging out outside the bathroom door every time Rasa went in, to listen if she was throwing up. My father told me he needed to take Rasa away from me, observe her, and see that I do no more mental damage to her while she got help. So, how enjoyable was my Killington “vacation”?

When I was in high school, a police officer pulled me over and told me that my father was talking to important people and wanted me arrested for DWI, or anything possible, as he wanted a reason to kick me out of the house and not have to pay for my college. When I did apply to colleges, my father refused to sign any paperwork and when I did get into a community college I paid for it. When my father found out I was going to get management training at the supermarket that I worked, my father talked to the head manager, and I was then fired the next day.

When I was going to college, a professor told me that I was wanted in the Dean’s office of the Community College. I went and was told I was kicked out, and that the FBI or Springfield Police would be called if I didn’t leave the campus right away. I asked why and was told that I had radical ideas, was anti-establishment, and could inspire others to violence. My grades weren’t the best, but I was not being kicked out for them. I asked the FBI agents and Springfield Police about this odd event when they were doing operations near the 7/11 I worked at 3rd shift to pay for college. I was told I would get in the severest trouble if I ever told anyone, but they told me that my father had used his influence. The Dean told me I would be banned from all colleges. 

Fast forward to when Rasa and I had a house in Stafford Springs, Connecticut, a cop who was infatuated with Rasa told me he was talking to my father, that I was kicked out of Connecticut, that I didn’t own my home, that he would be better for my wife because he made more money, was taller, and was Polish, and Poland borders Lithuania, and I was the wrong race to be with her. He slammed me into the siding of my house saying he was going to arrest me because I had fed my wife macaroni and cheese which contains butters and that I was trying to make my wife fat. Officer “Fat Frank” Prochaska was listening in on our conversations inside the house, my phone calls, and was trolling my internet use.

Before I was arrested and got railroaded to prison, police said they were sick of my father calling them about me. My lawyer told me he was offered money to throw the case by my father. Guards in prison told me that my father gave a family impact statement to the court that I was a bad influence on my daughter and was causing her harm, so I should get prison to teach me a lesson and estrange me from her. My father came to visit me in prison. He told me that I either had to listen to, and do, all that he said, or he’d permanently estrange me from my daughter, Sarah. He kept his word. Prison was then to crowded put a guy on probation is prison after he raped a 3 year old! I had two druggie felons at each of my property locations trying to catch me outside so they could attack me where only I got arrested and got prison.

After Phil was injured on his motorcycle, my father would quit yelling at me when no one was around. He would even follow me into the bathroom. He told me that I was not allowed to talk to Michele, or see Phil, without him being there. My father told Phil’s sister, Susan, that I didn’t want her making any decisions regarding Phil, and that I was going to make the decisions. This was a complete [Father's name snipped] fabrication. I thought Sue was going to assault me right there.

I had been hired to help Peggy [last name snipped] with her projects in Greenwich, Connecticut. I had been given a room to live in her house. Peggy was on Saturday Night Live at the time Eddie Murphy and Joe Piscopo were on. Peggy hosted a young comedians show with John Candy. I was to meet [Well known actor's name, snipped] and be some sort of gofer for his screenplay, Solitary Birds. I was Peggy’s caretaker and brought her to the hospital when I heard Phil was in the hospital. Peggy offered me the money for gas to go to the wake and funeral for Phil and I was the same size as one of her sons and could wear his suit.

Peggy feared her ex-husband and I was to guard her 24/7. My father told Peggy that I was a liar, no good, and couldn’t help anyone, not even myself. My father knew I could not get to the wake or funeral without gas or Peggy’s help. He told me that I was forbidden to come with Peggy. Peggy fired me and I then had no place to live and no job. Thanks Dad!

My sister Michele will never talk to me again. Thanks Dad! I went to prison. Thanks Dad! My daughter, Sarah, will never talk to me again. Thanks Dad! Prison guards warned me that my father was going to try to get me violated on parole to get another year and a half in prison. He tried to get me to drink, buying me a 6 pack, and also to walk off the property after curfew.

I have had only one long term friend, [name snipped]. He is 17 years older than me. When I first started painting contracting with [name snipped], my father found out where we were working, and saw [name snipped] when I was painting the other side of a house. My father told [name snipped] that I was lazy, disorganized, a user, a liar, and am a thief. My father has repeatedly tried to ruin our friendship. [name snipped] is my friend to this day and I am probably still alive today because he was the only one there for me when I most needed it.

I’m not saying you all didn’t help me. But, any of your help was through a sociopath who has caused the most covert harm to me as he can for all time that I can remember.

Will you help me slowly patch things up with all family, except my father? What do you want from me?

Signed: Your Brother-in-Law, Uncle to your kids, and hopefully more than a one time only, friend,  
-Steve