Nick and Kait: A Hair Comparison.

Ayeoo Internet. 

This Tuesday is my dead brother's 21st birthday. If any of this is news to you I've written many many blogs to answer all of your questions. You can find them under the tag "Brother." 

In celebration of what I'm sure would have been a humiliating vomit fest for all persons involved, I have assembled an equally humiliating collection of photographs. The following documents our coincidentally similar hairstyles. Let us begin. 

1) Growing up, our mom cut everyone's hair. This resulted in deep rooted skepticism of anyone holding scissors within a foot of my head, and multiple Spock-esc bang lines. Mine of course, I did by accident all by myself, but let's not dwell. 

You're welcome baby brother. You are welcome. 

2) It is early 2005 and every single Dessoffy is tap dancing. Nick's hair looks like Paul McCartney and (for varying reasons) everyone is embarrassed. This is also forever the photo I submit in the "most awkward adolescent" category. Junior year of college my hair looked like Paul McCartney because haircuts cost money and I hadn't yet purchased a buzzer. 

3) Jump ahead 5 years and Nick has decided that he is too cool for school and haircuts. This is the result. Baby Kaitlyn didn't like change and had this exact haircut until age 15. And then again until age 19.

4) Nick never washed his hair and was occasionally forced to look presentable. Enter, the ponytail. Even pre-actualized babygay Kaitlyn valued the functionality of wearing her hair in a pulled back literally at all times. 

5) Next this happened. I called him Fabio, and only Fabio, until he changed it. I never actually had long blonde hair, but I got to wear this long blond wig once. So that counts right?

6) When in doubt or emotional turmoil, shave half your head. This stands for both of us. 

7) I'm 80% sure the short blond came next. And by blond I mean brassy yellow cause both of us did it ourselves and have limited knowledge of how to safely bleach the pigment out of your hair. Waddup toner. 

7.5) Then there was this. I was never ballsy enough to pull it off so I don't have a companion picture. It's a reference to some band I'm not cool enough to know, but too good to pass up. Also, this outfit.

8) It's summer time and students no longer need to be in uniform. The picture is dark, but you have to believe me, kid's hair is electric blue. In my case, I finally was wigged for a show and got to fulfill a childhood dream of putting blue in my hairs. Not all my hairs, but some of them. 

 9) Sometimes you have to take it back to square one and just buzz it all off. Sometimes you get too excited about your new buzzer and look like a potato for 2 months. 

*Kudos to Gabster for wearing the nose play-dough better than me. 

I think that about wraps it up. I'm going to post one more picture because it's my favorite picture of us, and the closest we ever came to having the same hair (and face) at the same time.  

With that embarrassing stumble down memory lane forever emblazoned on the internet, I'm going to leave this be. I hope you enjoyed this little piece of weirdness. Have a good rest of your week. 

Kait 

Tattoos.

Aye.

I have too much work to be writing this blog. Yolo. (oof, I have no intent of bringing that back. so you know.)

But I have been writing academic stuff all night and it's starting to get real scatterbrained. So I'm switching to this.

I think I want to get a tattoo for my brother. It's super cliche and stuff, but there's something appealing about having a symbol or phrase permanently etched into my skin that reminds me of him. It's like keeping his spirit alive. Sort of. Also it's bad ass and he would support it a hundred percent I think.

Problem is, I'm not quite as impulsively ballsy as Nick was and I definitely have a better understanding of consequences than he did. Like what if I hate it in like 10 years. I'm kinda stuck. Also I pass out nearly every time I give blood because, despite my expert covering of the anxiety needles give me, needles cutting my skin really freaks my shit.

Despite that, I've had several ideas in the past 3 years. And here they are.

1) "Those you love and lost still walk behind you" etched into my foot.

• Self explanatory. And it's on my foot and it's about walking, get it? And it's from my favorite musical. Problems: Is it creepy if I ever get cast in said musical and just happen to have a really heavy, personal show from the quote permanently inked into my foot? Also Nick didn't like musicals. So there's that. Also the question of font choice. 

2) "Life is what happens to you when you're out making other plans" painfully scarred into my shoulder blade.

• Because if I were a little more relaxed, it would be my motto. Actually, this one is mostly just for me. But it is a quote from the Beatles. And Nick liked the Beatles. They weren't his favorite band, but I am definitely not getting something written by a death metal band. Nope. Nope. Side note, I really don't like the song "Beautiful Boy" (where the quote is from) so the regret potential is like, a 7 or 8. Out of 10. 

3) A small autumn maple leaf on the underside of my forearm. 

• Location: There's a lot to be said for having something beautiful and red on my arm. I like that there's no words, symbols seems better to explain. Fall is my favorite season. Nick died in October and I remember coming home for the funeral and loving how bright the leaves were. I associate fall leaves with the woods between the high school and Nick's elementary school. Also with marching band. Nick was a very talented musician and we were in marching band together for a year. Some of my favorite memories of him are from band and I really like the idea of incorporating music into this. but I don't want to do a musical symbol. My only concerns are that from far away it will look like a scrape or something. So I was thinking about going for a more brownish color? I dunno. This is the front runner so far. 

Also, just in general, it might be problematic to get a dead brother tattoo of any sort. I mean, it might be a bit of a bummer. If not for me, for anyone who knows who it symbolizes. Mulling it over. Please feel free to give suggestions, advice, ideas? Yep yep. Ugh. I should maybe get back to my directing notebook. 

Yeah no, I can't leave you on that heavy a note. That's just not responsible. So I gave myself a haircut yesterday. Not like my typical scissors to bangs, I buzzed it. Not bald, mom you can relax now. Mostly I have myself a shattily done fade. But I'm diggin it. I just need to fix the top. Cause I have literally one curl that is just popping out of my head. And, while I love this, it's a tad out of place. 

Kait 

Funny Brother Stories

Ello Chapsticks,

So yesterday marked my little brother Nick's 3 year deathiversary (for details, see my posts from late spring of this year). I'm not particularly good at timing sadness to strike me on a particular date, so I had a relatively painless week. Plus my friends have been checking in with me because they're lovely. But I have been thinking about him a lot the past couple weeks, and in celebration of his life I am going to tell you some laughable stories from our childhood.

And in honor of the season of pumpkin, they are all food themed! So enjoy that!

Our parents have been on a health kick since whole wheat bread was invented, so Nick and I grew up with a lot of stir fried veggies for dinner and granola bars for dessert. Mind you, now I would KILL for a meal that isn't eaten on my way to class or from a microwavable bag, but at the time I just wanted some Mac and Cheese. So when junk food was in the house, you had to act fast or suffer in whole wheat agony until the next holiday. One incident I remember in particular was when my dad brought home a carton of Malted Milk Balls. Nick and I waged a literal game of capture the flag complete with decoy messages, loud music to thwart any attempts at sneaking, and beating each other to ground to get a hold of them.

My dad went on this crazy fiber diet circa 2005, right around the time that protein bars and health shakes were getting popular. One day my mom found these delicious Fiber One bars at Sams Club and bought them in bulk. Now there hadn't been chocolate in the house in weeks and these things had chocolate chips in them. Neither of us paid much attention to the text proudly boasting that this one little chocolate bar contained 40% of your daily recommended fiber. We were so used to our parents buying boring food, we were just jazzed about the chocolate component. In a moment of weakness brought on by weeks of deprivation, Nick at five of them. In one sitting. Hours later he emerged from the bathroom looking pretty haggard. He never did it again.

I don't have a great transition into this little anecdote, but it's too memorable for me to not mention. Nick and I had a mutual love of white bread because all my parents bought was this dry Brownberry Whole Wheat bread. (Super delicious, but again, we were 10). So for every birthday and Christmas we would take our $5 a week allowance and buy each other a loaf of white bread. I considered leaving a loaf on his grave, but then I pictured it all moldy and rain soaked.

Speaking of Birthdays and Christmas, every Easter my family bakes these pound cakes in the shape of a bunny and a lamb. Because we're Polish as Perogies. Anyhow, the bunny was sufficiently cuter and since Nick was a baby and wined about it, he always got to decorate the bunny. When we were little we got to frost them, dye some coconut, and sprinkle it on there so your lamb or bunny had a nice pastel hue to it. I am a square, so my lamb was always baby blue with black jelly bean eyes and a kindhearted, holiday oriented, smile. When Nick was in middle school he made the bunny blood red with fangs and some sort of skin condition.

That same year he drew dicks and pagan symbols in white crayon on all our eater eggs before we dyed them. Mom was none too pleased.

One of my favorite Nick stories is how every time we went out to eat at a restaurant if there was a cute waitress, he would try to order alcohol. Now Nick is three years younger than me and he checked out before 17, so he was never anywhere near legal drinking age. Usually the waitress laughed it off he got a Coke, but this one time we were at Applebees I think and the waitress actually wrote down his order and started to walk off. I don't know how this girl thought he was serious because he ordered the Bond drink every time, "I'll have a martini, shaken. Not stirred." She finally decided that maybe this little asshat is in middle school and, much to his chagrin, didn't bring him the drink.

Here's to you kid. I miss you, and love you. Remember, you posted this picture to facebook. Not me. And let's be frank, you knew there was no way you were getting a classy memorial blog from me. You're welcome.



Well that's all for today. But expect more. Obviously not all food themed, but we did plenty of suburban kid shenanigans that I will definitely be writing about on here at some point. Enjoy the chilly weekend! Get some pumpkin stuff, bust out your scarves, do fall!

Kait

Surviving the Suicide of a Sibling for Dummies.

What? Are you really reading this? Is Kaitlyn writing a "shit gets real" blog about something that isn't Toddlers and Tiarras or my sadistic love of finals week?

Yes. Yes I am.

I will try to keep it from getting super emotional though. Mostly because I hate when people get super emotional online. Not that the internet isn't a place to share your feelings. But it really bothers me. So if it bothers you too, I'm with you and will do my best to keep it witty. Dark and witty at best.

Ready?

Part 1: A Brief History for Confused Readers
If this is coming out of the blue, don't worry about it. I didn't talk about it much till this year. Here's what you need to know. My brother Nick died my freshman year of college. He was 16. He had a lot of emotional problems and was experimenting with some unhealthy coping mechanisms. My parent's found him in our basement on a rope on October 17th, 2010. I got the news via phone call from my dad at about 7:30pm about a half mile outside of Chicago.

Part 2: Why on Earth I Would Write Such A Heavy Downer Blog
Because no one has done it. Or at least as of October 18th, 2010 I could find nothing on the subject. And I like to have guides for things. So I turned to the internet. All the sites were geared towards parents grieving for their children. There was literally nothing for siblings. Self help books? There is one. It's called "An Empty Chair." I own it. It sucks. All the stories are from adults who lost their siblings to suicide looooong after they had been living apart for years. My brother and I were really tight. Couldn't relate to them at all. I was fortunate enough to have a wonderful human in my life who had lost her brother to suicide and she really helped me through it. For those of you who do not have any sympathizers, this is for you.

Part 3: Surviving the Death of a Sibling. 
      A Step by Step Guide for all the Shit that has just Hit the Fan. 

Getting the News.
 At this point, suicide feels like a logical next step. Suicide pacts sound even better. You're wrong.  Don't do it. I distinctly remember trying to work out how I could go about offing myself in the backseat of my friend's car as they drove me back to Ohio without them noticing. Hate to create a scene ya know? Your brain isn't working correctly. Just keep yourself safe and get to your family.

Food.
I love food. And I didn't eat anything except a glass of chocolate milk and some coffee until October 20th. (Silver lining: lost 10 pounds. Fabulous). I think this is an acceptable thing. Just don't pass out. After day 2, force feed yourself some carbs. Go for bread.

Shameless.
You are super sad. This is the only time in your life when it's acceptable to be a fucking wreck. Take it in. I bawled and dry heaved my way through every other rest stop between Chicago and Cleveland. The looks I got. Horrifying. Worth it. Also, the emails I sent to my professors were basically,

Hi,
My brother just killed himself in our basement. I will not be in your class all week.
Kaitlyn.

This is the only time in your life you're allowed to be that level of ugly emotional. Go big or go home. If someone dare criticize you within 3 days of the death, fly off the handle. Justified.

The Funeral.
Go. It's hard. And depending on the method of suicide, it's less pretty than a regular funeral. Kiss um. Head's up, it's waxy. Let yourself ugly cry in front of everyone. Leave something in the coffin. Don't volunteer to speak at the service. Don't put the pressure on yourself to formulate words and get up in front of people. Your only job is to grieve. And that's hard enough. So focus on you.    

Get Help
There is no shame in therapy. You probably need it. 

"How Are Your Parent's Doing?"
Literally EVERYONE will ask you this this. It's as if they forget that YOU have just lost a sibling! Then you will google "help me my brother just killed himself" and all that shows up is an article about how siblings are the "forgotten grievers." And you're all like, "well yeah, I know. now what." Then you will want to die. I would see relatives, friends, teachers, people that I really needed support from and they would say something like, "Hey, I heard about Nick. Are your parents doing ok? This must be so hard for them." REALLY? REALLY. Yeah. I wanted to punch them in the face too. Try not to. Though if you do, it's totally justified. No one seems to understand this point, but I do. They don't understand that they are literally tearing out your insides and smashing them to a pulp. You deserve to hurt a whole whole lot. Just as much as your parents. Own that. Don't let people make you think you have less of a right to grieve.

Side note to anyone who comes in contact with the live sibling within a year of the death of their counterpart. Do NOT ask how their parents are. Just don't. You are there for your friend. Be there for your friend. Ask how they are doing. Everyone feels bad for the parents. People straight up forget about the sibs.

Side note two: If you have stumbled across this as a grieving sibling, feel free to contact me. I want to help you. It's basically why I posted this. Leave a comment. We'll figure it out. Hang in there.

So You're An Only Child Now?
This is rough. Everyone's situation is different, but I don't have any other siblings. If you're in this boat, losing one not only takes a person from you, but it takes a role. I loved being an older sister. I considered it part of my identity as a person. Without a younger sibling, it's rough to be an older sister. As far as time tables go, expect to feel like half of you is dead for about 4 months.


Start Spreading The News (Name that Show tune bonus prize!)
Well now you have to tell people right? I found calling people and dropping this huge bomb of hurt very therapeutic. So don't feel guilty if you're all like, "I'm so unbelievably sad, I just wanna bring every body down with me." They didn't lose a sibling. They'll be fine. Go for it.

Getting Back to Your Life.
Eventually, the super grief subsides. What you're left with is crippling depression and a weeks wroth of makeup work. But you'll be functioning. You can do it. When I came back to school, I didn't want to be known as "the girl with the suicidal brother." I kind of already earned that identity within my dorm and didn't want pity friends. I wanted people to meet Kaitlyn. Not "that girl with the dead brother". This made my transition back to school easier and harder. Easier because I didn't have to be constantly reminded of how sad I was. I could push the feelings aside if I wanted to and pretend that things were normal for a while. It was really hard though because I could see the support my parents were getting back home while I wasn't getting any of that. My freshman year friends were WONDERFUL and did so so so much to help me. I am forever grateful to them. But its very different from the situation my parents were in where they didn't have to explain anything. Everyone just knew that they were broken up.

Mixed Feelings on Home.
Being at college, I didn't have time to adjust to being in a home without Nick. I got sick every time I went home. I'd come home for three or four days at a time, a month at Christmas, and everything looked, smelled, and felt like it did the night I came home when Nick died. And I couldn't get past it. I realized at Easter that I hadn't changed my sheets at home since October. I changed um. Cleaned up my room. Felt better. If you're in college, expect it to take somewhere within a year for your house to feel anything other than tragic.

Every Time I Ride The Megabus, I Get Sick.
And I couldn't figure out why. Than I realized, the first time I road the megabus was to go home for Thanksgiving Freshman year a mere month after my brother had died. I was terrified to go home and have to deal with Nick's death again. And like any accomplished college partier knows, sense memory is real. Be prepared for these things. Deal with them accordingly. I recommend sit com DVDs.

Holidays
These are rough. You don't realize how much your siblings are a part of your holiday. Because holidays take people back to their childhood. Even when you're grown up. I combated this by giving myself tasks. Instead of watching the parade by myself, an activity I used to share with Nick, I helped cook stuff. The first ones are the worst. I honestly recommend taking a friend, cousin, boyfriend/girlfriend with you to a family dinner. Just so you have someone to pair off with. But after you've been through a few, these get easier too. I promise. You learn how to do holidays in a new way. And you appreciate them differently.

Coming Out of the Dead Sibling Closet.
I still have a rough time with this one. I talk about my brother pretty frequently. I don't think most of my friends I've made in college know that he is dead. And people react weirdly when I offhandedly remark that my brother hung himself. Well I'm sorry if you don't see that as appropriate lunchtime chat. My mistake. Needless to say, this is a truth bomb that must be dropped delicately. Usually I go with,

Friend: "Oh, do you have any siblings?"

Kaitlyn, "I had a younger brother."

In my brain, my friends catch the constant use of past tense. They usually don't. So Might I suggest, "I had a younger brother, but he passed away a few years ago." Or "...Well not any live ones..." Then just leave um hanging. (ohhhhhhh puns). To be honest, I don't really know what to do with this one. You could always blog about it :)


Activism.
This made me feel better. Get involved. When you're ready.

YOU WILL NEVER KNOW MY PAAAAAIIIIIINNNNN.
After you've survived the super pain of losing a sibling, it's real hard to take anyone else's problems seriously. You'll be all like, "oh, your girlfriend broke up with you, NO FUCKS GIVEN." It's alright. Eventually you'll be able to sympathize with problems smaller than losing your whole family in a horrific plane crash. Or if this bitterness lingers for a while, don't beat yourself up. But realize, little things hurt too. And other people deserve love and attention. You may not be able to give them that attention, but everyone is entitled to their feelings. You don't want to hear this right now, I know. Just bear with me and keep it in mind.

It Gets Easier.
Keep it up. You can do this. There are people who've survived this. You have people who understand. Find them.   



*I wrote this entry sometime last year I think. I'm a little further from it now, but I remember these feelings being really really real at the time. I've gotten past most of this. For example, I will not scream at you if you talk about your boy problems to me. I'll probably jump in about my girl problems, so no worries there. But anyway, should your sibling die I hope this provides some sort of guidance. Also, I really want to help people who have lost people. Feel free to contact me if you think it would help you or someone you know.

Also, I feel the need to take care of you emotionally after dumping on you. I'm going to lighten the mood with a quick funny story. So the other day my roommate made a comment that I thought was directed towards this person we were both crushing on so I suggested that she "take off her clothes and run to Canada." Turns out she was talking about one of our mutual friends... and an awkward time was had by all.

Kaitlyn

So do you have any Siblings?

My heart hiccuped, I opened my mouth as if to answer, I nearly launched full throttle into a blog entry right then and there

But then I thought I should probs fill everyone in and give my typical intro. Because I like it.

Intro: Quote of the Day: "If a kid poops in his locker, I'm your girl!" Said by yours truly during a summer job interview. This may be why I am temporarily unemployed.

In honor of nothing particularly sacred, I feel it is time to share some pretty personal information with you blogsphere. Give yourself a pat on the back for leveling up.

Prologue: Subtitle - The cliff-notes of events of October 17th 2010. I had a younger brother, Nick. We were really close (but that's a post for another day) and he struggled with a lot of emotional problems (again, another day). On October 17th, 2010 he choked himself to death in our basement.

For more information about choking, here's this. http://www.gaspinfo.com/en/home.html. For the record, I am not in love with this website, but it's informational. And I'm completely comfortable talking about my brother/mental/emotional health issues. So hit me up. I didn't bring it up much freshman or sophomore year because I didn't want to be "that girl with the dead brother" so don't feel bad if this is the first time you're hearing about any of this. More on this in the future.


Back to my Narrative: 

I was getting a haircut the other day (I have so little hair now, it's glorious) and I was chatting away with the stylist. School, work, dating, the typical stuff. Then she told me a story about her sister and asked me if I had any siblings. I am completely comfortable talking about Nick, and his death, but still the subject has been tripping me up for the past three years.

Generally if a classmate or someone I'll be seeing frequently asks, I'll tell them that I had a younger brother but he died a few years ago. Though I've gotten a range of reactions, most people just say "ok" or "sorry" and leave it at that. Which is fine. Other people ask what happened. Also fine, but either way I feel like people are uncomfortable with the subject.

However, with people that I'm only with for a short time, I can't figure out how to navigate the subject. I am not an only child. I still consider myself a sister even though my counterpart currently resides 2 states over and 6 feet under. Being a sister was such a huge part of my identity and I'm not willing to let that go on a technicality. I mean, I tell stories about him all the time.

There's a line though. Stories are fine if you're acknowledging that they were in the past. Even then, sometime's I'll tell a story about Nick and then someone will ask how old he is... Do I say the age he was at the time of the story? Or 16? Or that he would be 19? Or dead? Is dead even an age? Plus who wants to think about dead brothers when you're in the middle of a chat about spraying pepper spray in your eye to test it (true story)? I mean, if I'm bringing up my brother, I'm already aware of the dead part, but I don't want to bring down the whole room.

When the stylist asked me if I had any siblings, I said "Yes, I have a brother. He's 16." Then I proceeded to talk about him as if he were still alive and it was 2 years ago. I have never tried this response before and I have mixed reviews. It was simple enough because I avoided the sometimes uncomfortable conversation of his death and I didn't have to deny ever having a sibling. Seems like a win win.

Only not really though. He only made it a few months into his sophomore year. So to talk about what he would be up to now (even as a sophomore) I had to make up his reaction to finals, summer break, summer jobs, friends, music, everything. It felt fake. I don't like it.

So then what? I don't like saying that I'm an only child. Cause I'm not. And I don't want to bring up that I have a dead sibling to someone I'm never going to see again. Because, comfortable as I am talking about him, not everyone is. Plus I don't want to bring up any losses they've experienced if they don't want to focus on them. And will only work for so long. I mean, I can only have a 16 year old brother for a decade more at most. At some point math gets involved and it doesn't make sense.

I have yet to come to a conclusion. So instead I shared my innermost private thoughts with the internet. You're welcome.


Well that pretty much wraps it up. I'm sorry this (hopefully) doesn't apply to anything that's happening in your life. I wish I could find a way to make this more applicable than a personal reflection that I've just spilled to the internet. Uhmmm I guess this would be akin to getting asked about a relationship after you've broken up? Similar feelings? But way different and less permanent? Meh, do with that what you will.

I don't really know what to say about this one. I'm not sorry for writing it but I can't do my usual "hope you enjoyed" or "hope this made you laugh." Isn't exactly fitting ... I guess "Hope this didn't put too much of a damper on your Monday but thanks for reading?"

Whatever.

Silver lining: Now that this is out in the open, I have free range to blog about my crazy sibling adventures. Which were pretty excellent. Expect that soon. Also I have an opening to publishing my handbook of "How to survive what might have been the suicide of your sibling without jumping off a bridge yourself, the Kaitlyn Dessoffy story" to the blog world.

I shit you not, I've been drafting it.

There is literally nothing left to say about this but I feel compelled to keep writing.

Probably because I told myself that I'd go running when this post was finished. Yeah, I bet that's it.

Anyway.

GO RUN.

yeah. that's what's happening.

Have a good day internet world! Enjoy your new found freedom college students! High schoolers, the end is in sight! People with normal jobs (really putting off this running now) keep on truckin! People without jobs I feel your pain! Me too!

This is like finding the death of a moment in movement class when it's just not gonna happen. If you've made it this far you're a champ.

Just go for a run girl. You got this. Ok.

Peace out home skillets,

Kaitlyn