London Continued

I was only in London two months, I don't know why it is taking so long to write about it.
After the survivors group I kept in touch with the other two survivors intermittently, they were both very vocal, and as often happens with me, I fade into the background while the others talk.
The girl survivor is quite dramatic and upset and gets upset with the Survivors charity for publishing some of what she said on the website, she is afraid that her abusers are going to come after her and so she decides to leave her home. I completely lose contact with the male survivor, but the three of us, one in South London, one in Central London and one in Hertfordshire, are hardly going to be able to run a survivors group, the girl sends an email to another survivors charity to ask if we can meet at their HQ, but her email is a very involved and confused account of our stories and how we need a survivors group. Nothing comes of it.

My sister's involvement in my life is cheering but also exhausting, she invites me round a lot, but the journey is a bit much sometimes, she wants to meet up lots, but I need daycentre help and medical help and other things and sometimes I just can't get to her. When I do see her she is very energetic, all laughs and jokes and energy, we are very different people who cannot cope with each other's environments and ways of life, she stands, sits and walks very close to me and I feel stifled, she can walk easily but it is hard for me to walk at her pace, she is ok with crowds but openly reacts to things she says affect her such as lights and sirens, I grit my teeth and stress my way through the crowds and ignore lights and sirens because life is full of them and they wont go away for being disliked. We struggle along. We have some fun.

My sister says that my brother wants to talk to me, this is the brother who I used to be so close to. My brother and I fell out in the aftermath of dad's death when my life was tumbling downhill in breakdown and towards the church's destroyal of me that left me disposessed.
My brother and I fell out because I was told that my mum was going to live near him in the same county and I was a bit surprised, my mum was supposed to go to live near another brother who could help to look after her, not this brother, who has too much to deal with in his own life and couldn't look after her.
When I asked him if it was true that she was going live near him I said 'Is your mother really going to live near you?' and apparently this made him angry because he was furious with her, I was unaware of this, I couldn't call her my mother after the way she left my Dad choking on his vomit and didn't call an ambulance. But because communication in the family had broken down, I was unaware that there had been a huge row because my mum had tried to move close to my brother and he had gone out of his way to try and help her by arranging to be there for house viewings and things and she had been rude to him and picked quarrels with estate agents and things, more complicated than that, but I only learned all that when my sister put me back in touch with my brother, all I knew at the time was that he was angry that I called my mum 'his mum' and not our mum. After the anger and shouting that was too much for me to cope with at the time as the church launched their final decimation of my life, and I lost contact with my brother. I lost the only phone number he had of mine when the church destroyed me, and I don't think I had his number any more either but I didn't think he wanted contact.


So here in London my sister put me on the phone to my brother, and he explained to me why he had been angry at me calling her 'his mother', all I had meant was that she wasn't my mother, I had no idea what had gone on. He explained the way she had handled things, and he said he understood better why I was so disturbed, he said that our parents' religeon had just been a method of control.

My brother was keen to keep in touch and he took to ringing and texting every day, talking about old times, talking about all the memories and closeness we had shared. He wanted to come and get me and take me from London into his family and get my driving licence sorted out (I will explain the driving licence later) and get me a little car so I could have my freedom again and not be walking all the time, he said I just needed to be somewhere safe and rebuild my life, he said that he had been through terrible times like I was going through and that there was hope for me even if I didn't believe it.
I was overwhelmed by the torrents of support and emotion, I wished I could believe it all. He wanted to come and collect me and take me to his family, but I wasn't sure, he had 7 children and a wife with Borderline Personality Disorder which made her violent and unpredictable, I hasd stayed before and though I love my brother dearly, it is very chaotic and unsettled, even violent in their household, the children are lovely but lively and his wife has a very frightening temper and on previous visits and meetings she had really scared me. sometimes his home and family reminded me of our own childhood in the big family with our unpredictable mother, in a way I think all of us have recreated parts of our childhood in our adult life, him with his family and wife, me with my homeless unsettled vulnerable life.

My brother talked of how they would arrange the garage as a room for me, and how he knew loads of people and they would get me driving and working again and how I would be in a safe place and how he hated me being on the streets of London. I wanted to believe him, he was still my dear old brother who had been my closest friend for parts of my childhood.

My brother gets more and more keen to come and get me, and one night as I try to bed down uneasily in the bushes while there is a strange man in the area and the threat of rain, my brother starts texting about collecting me, it is about midnight, he says he wants to come now, but can i get to somewhere further out of the centre of London, he specifies two places that he knows he can get to, he lives several hundred miles away and wants to drive down here and now to collect me, I run to Waterloo and take a flying leap onto the last tube train of the night and get to the end of the line and wait as he continues his journey to get to me, there is a stabbing near where I wait, I don't witness it, only puddles of blood, police and ambulances everwhere.

I am about to be logged off, so I will stop there and continue later.