My sister decided that she was going to set me up with this one guy she knew. After this guy and I had talked on the phone a few times (before I met him) she invited him over to her place, dug up all my old baby pictures, and showed them to him, including all the naked baby ones.
When I was still in elementry school and my brother was in middle school he would tell me that I was fake and he was real. Then I would cry and cry cause I wanted to be a real person too. That wasn’t anywhere near his worst though.
I decided to go to target with my brother and my cousin one day, well they decided they didn’t want me to go into the store with them so they took there bike chains and chained me to the bike rack. Then they threw there coats over me so people wouldn’t hear me yelling. Since the bike rack was off to the side of the building no one even noticed me. About a half hour later they came out and let me go. I ran all the way home and didn’t tell my mom about it until like a year ago cause I though I would look really dumb if I told anyone. And since I never told my brother and cousin never got into trouble.
Meanest thing ey…
It is actually a current thing.
Physical fighting and embarrasment is fine as far as I’m concerned,right up until the mid/late teens. But most people,as they grow older,let go of that big brother anger and resentment,and actually start to treat their siblings with respect and even friendliness. Unfortunately my brother is yet to learn this skill.As such, I have a 27 year old brother who will not talk to me,consider my existence,or treat me any hiegher than a slave/doormat.
No wonder I moved out when I was 18.
His loss the closeminded f**kwit. But still mean none the less.
F**ck him.
Benno
Being the youngest of the bunch I was the one to get picked on and had different rules then the others.
When I was 4 or 5, my older brother and sister scared the shit out of my when they said a lightning storm can hit a house ripping it apart and killing the people inside. They had the nerve to try to convince me it was true. The way they talked to me about it with my Mom made it sound that it happened to a house nearby but all that really happened was the a local house’s roof caught on fire. Damn them for doing that to me. They had to mention this happening while a thunderstorm was going on.
I have one brother, three years younger than me. When I was a teenager, I wanted him dead.
See, during my childhood, posters were a big deal. Most of the trouble between us seemed to stem from posters. And he always won…
First incident: I’m sitting in the backyard reading a magazine on a fine summer’s day. I have just found the most beautiful poster in the magazine, and since I bought it with my own money, and since my brother doesn’t have any interest in the famous person portrayed on it, I have no worries about being able to keep it. I oh-so-carefully remove the poster from the magazine, taking care that the staples don’t mark it, and lay it on the bench beside me. Suddenly, little brother comes tearing up from nowhere, grabs the poster from the table and runs off with it. In fear that the little brat will crease it (or worse!), I chase him around the side of the house, yelling at him to give it back. He throws it in the pool. When I reach it, it’s ruined. I’m nearly in tears, and I hit him, so he hits back, and we get into a fist-fight - right under Mum’s bedroom window. Now, she has a headache, so she’s taking an afternoon nap. When we wake her up by screaming and punching each other, she’s furious. She storms out, and hits me so hard she breaks a blood vein in her hand. I was then sent to my room for the rest of the day. The theory is that, as the oldest, I shouldn’t fight back when my brother is picking on me. At 9, I’m supposed to be bigger than that.
Second incident: I saved up my money, and bought a wallposter of the same famous person as the freebie my brother destroyed earlier. I hang in on the wall in my bedroom, and I’m so very proud of it. One day, my little brother tells me he has a surprise for me. He tells me to go into my room, and he’ll show it to me. I walk in with him beside me… to find he has placed a sticker over the centre of the face of the person on my poster! I scream! I run over to it, and try to gently remove the sticker, but it’s no use. The whole face rips off, and the poster is ruined. I turn on my brother, who is laughing, and chase him through the house. He runs straight to Mum, screaming, and I am punished. It seems that my little brother was just trying to make a gift of the sticker to me, and I’m selfish and ungrateful for not appreciating it.
Mum and my brother always ganged up on me. It’s interesting to see that these days I’m considered strong-willed and sometimes hard, while my brother is frequently called spineless, and is unable to stand up for himself. I guess they did me a favour, though I didn’t realise it at the time.
Isn’t it wonderful when people are so concerned with the development of your moral fiber?
I think I mentioned this in an old thread, but when I was around six and my lil sis was like four, I took a rubber band airplane, wound the prop into triple knots, or quad knots maybe, and stuck it into my sisters’ hair.
It was cool, the plane didn’t fly but sis’s hair sure did!
I am laughing as I write this…and IRC mom had to cut her hair off just to get the rubber band loose.
I know I reversed the OP, but couldn’t resist…
apologies…
My brother is 14 months older than me (Im female,btw)and we’ve been at odds apparently since the day I came home from the hospital. Guess he had trouble with the whole’new sibling’ thing.Anyway when we were younger he made my life a living hell,once he peed into a cup and tried to make me drink it,he heated up a wire coat hanger and burned my face with it(still have that scar) forced me to eat dog food, pushed me off the roof of our house,pushed me onto a cactus, the kind with the little tiny almost invisible pricklys,and lots of other horrible things, that of course my parents always shrugged off as “just being playful”.In fact even today,though we havent seen or spoken to each other in almost 20 years(can you blame me?) he STILL thinks that Im to blame for everything that goes wrong in his life! I hear from other family members that he still threatens to cause me physical harm if he ever sees me, sheesh!! And my mom still cant figure out why we arent “like two peas in a pod” like other siblings.
My twin choked me so hard once I had an earache for the rest of the night (my ears hurt so bad I was crying for most of the night too). He felt guilty about it and wrote a kind of apology story that he read to me some years later.
My brother (2 years younger) did his damndest to break up my marriage to my wife. We held firm, thank God.
He now lives with my mother (he’s 28), and he’s doing his damndest to break up her marriage to my stepfather (going on 20 years).
It’s not a conscious effort. It’s just his severely codependent soul-sucking pathology. It’s a long story…
My sister stole my car, which I love more than anything, while I was in Florida, and crashed it into a tree…it was officially pronounced dead…I miss that car…
She also once dug her nails into me so deep that I still have scars like 12 years later…
My older brother is fourteen months older than me. Between the ages of six and about twelve he used to pound the shit out of me on a regular basis. He had two rationales for his actions: 1) I was taller than him (and since he was the elder he reasoned he should be the taller) and 2) A couple of teachers at our school had said to him “Oh, you must be bagkitty’s brother” … apparently since he went to the school first he was the one who was supposed to be more memorable.
If the parental units were around when he was in the mood to terrorize me, he would refrain from beating on me, instead he would kneel on my shoulders and tickle me non-stop… on more than one occasion the only reason that he stopped was because I threw up.
I did manage to get revenge once… when I was about nine I was coming down from the main floor to the landing where the stairs to the basement are. Psycho older brother came in the back door and, for some reason, was wearing an inner tube around his arms (still doesn’t make any sense to me, neither we nor any of our neighbours had a pool…). I stared right at him, and pushed him down the stairs… then bolted out the door and ran like hell. The subsequent beatings were definitely worth the memory of the look of shock on his face as I pushed him down the stairs.
I wonder if I’m the only person carefully reading this thread to check if any of my siblings are posting to this board?
The meanest thing my bother did to me was to basically destroy myself confidence.
It’s a long story but I don’t feel like working so I’ll tell it.
He did all these things to me because of a thing I did to him when I was 3 and he was 4. He was in pre-K or nursery school or something like that. He volunteered to sing a song to the class but then chickened out due to stage fright. (here is the part where I doom myself) I am there as mom and I are picking him up so I stand up and sing the song and get the applause and some gum. Bother looks up at mom and says, “I am going to spend my life destroying him”. Mom gave me the quote later and in truth I don’t remember the entire incident at all.
So any time I may be put into the spotlight he would find a way to undermine it. If were to give a speech he would invite me to practice it and then tell me that I was hopeless. One summer he spent everyday, everyday teasing and taunting me until I cried. Once I got a slot car racing track for Christmas which all the kids in the fam wanted to play with so what does he do? He breaks it. He basically only says negative things to me. He ruined my wedding with his behavior. Ruined in the sense that when I think back to my wedding day I get pissed off. The last time I saw him was at another brother’s funeral. He was a jerk then as well. So now I don’t feel that I am living up to my potential and I know part of the reason is the total fear I have about sticking my head above the crowd in any way, shape or form. If I think about taking a creative writing course or going back to school I get this sinking feeling in my stomach. When I am doing something I hear his voice in my head criticizing everything I do.
I can’t believe that some people think I’m wrong to not speak to him. I do take comfort when I read about others who don’t speak to their siblings either.
not actually me, but a good one.
Friend’s family had just gotten their first color TV (we’re old folk). 2 weeks later, 10 y.o. daughter breaks picture tube when the parents were outside. Gets my friend (3 y.o.), sits him in front of TV just before they come back in. Parents didn’t know for 15 years. Can’t punish a 3 y.o. for that, she got off.
I am the youngest of 10 children. I have seven sisters, one of whom is 20 years older than me. My sisters and I get along pretty well, my two brothers are another matter. One is 19 years older, we get along up to a point. The other is 10 years older, we hardly get along at all; he got away with lots of stuff when we were younger but the worst was I was about 14. He dangled me headfirst over the flight of stairs in the family home. I got him back, though. When I was 18, I decided I had taken enough of his crap and tried to put his head through a wall. None of the family has seen him in at least 5 years, which is just fine with me.
Zebra says:
I know exactly how you feel. I too get the same tiresome nagging edict from people who dont know sh*t about what I went thru. I guess I can take some comfort knowing I'm not the only person suffering from this.:DThey refused to be born! 
This isn’t a single incident, and it’s really more our parents’ fault for allowing this.
My sister and I were allowed to fight. We could yell, scream, hit, kick, bite, scratch, and bash each other to our little hearts content. The only rule was, she could not hit me first (as I was 10 years younger and smaller). However, if I hit her first, then it was open season. However, she was allowed to provoke me any way she saw fit, starting when I was about 2. She was territorial, so it made me territorial too. For example, in the car, I’d have my hands by my sides, but maybe “on her side”, or on the DMZ (the hump). She would tell me and make me move it over to “my side”. So if she put one finger across the invisible line down the middle of the car’s backseat, she made sure I knew it and was incited to strike her, because she’d violated her own rule and was now on “my” side. Then boom.
This continued for a good 12 years, until she, at age 24, moved to another state. The last time we came to fisticuffs, we were 14 and 24. I overbalanced her onto and broke an ironing board. We both have scars from these incidents, as does our family home. Of course, we always did this routine 5 or so minutes before our mother came home, so when she walked in the door she was immediately confronted with two angry daughters, at least one of whom was probably bleeding and/or crying, and both of whom spent the rest of the evening pouting or yelling.
The optimist in me says I did learn the lesson that you can’t go through life hitting people, but the realist says there would have been an easier way to learn that.
Zebra, I’m not close with my sibling, either, and from hearing your side of it, I don’t blame you for not being in touch with yours. Nobody who wasn’t there knows what life with your sibs was like, and they certainly don’t have any right to judge your (lack of) relationship with them as an adult.
Oh, I forgot this one. A few years ago, I was finally diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I had a really tough time getting the help I needed and was suicidally depressed. That christmas, my sister sent me a present with a three page note enclosed saying the reason I felt so bad was that I hadn’t accepted Jesus into my heart. Gee, thanks for the support.
My sister’s seven years older than me.
When I was seven or eight she locked me in my closet for three hours so she could “spend time” with her boyfriend without being interrupted.
And when I was nine she met me at the bus stop and walked me home, saying there was a “surprise” waiting for me at the house. Turned out my kitten was dead. Nice surprise.
She was the only person allowed to pick on me, though. She used to try to beat up the kids from the other end of the block who were beating on me. And we’re close now that I’m partially grown up and she’s an adult.
My younger brother was sent straight from hell to torment me. He has the gift of being the only person to be able to get under my skin and push all the right buttons. I’m incredibly patient and understanding with everbody. Except him. He was mostly the aggressor on getting under my nerves and then I would lash out at him. Thankfully, I consider my parents to have handled the many complex situations very wisely.
The meanest and most cruel that sticks out in my mind occured 10 years ago during the winter. We’re at my Uncle’s house out in the woods with snow everywhere. We are getting ready to go back home when my brother and I go on a short hike with just my tennis shoes on. We went down a steep hill and then decide to go back to the house to leave. He gets up the hill fairly quickly with me following close behind. Near the top of the hill it becomes 70-80 degree for about 5 feet before it platueas (sp?). I’m struggling and keep slipping. I’m trying to get up and slipping no matter what I do. I (ashamedly enough) start to panic and ask for my brother’s help. He laughs at me and starts throwing insults and snow at me. This didn’t help me in a panicked state. I finally got over the area but grew a lot of resentment towards him for that. He’s done much worse and said much worse but nothing hurt as much as his refusal to help me.
We get along great now, when he acts normal. It’s amazing how much puberty, girls, and a job can mature a guy.
Of course there are stories of me pushing him down the stairs, him cutting me with a knife, and me attacking him with a shovel, but those are ancient past. Don’t even remember them. 