3531-95478-1 — Facebook Posts
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Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
January 12th, 2016
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Happy Birthday Jim Berladyn,
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So what are you, forty-five years old now? I wonder if you remember your fortieth birthday? I wonder what you did? I wonder if you remember mom’s? I do. I know mom’s was nothing like mine. I’ve thought about that one often enough. I remember her emotions that day. A long time ago I figured out she had more good life experiences than I ever would. Four spoiled kids (well some of us), countless vacations, new house, renovations, lots of jewelry, more fur coats than one person could ever need, huge parties. It’s actually amazing what the man you put down brought home for everyone. Even Uncle Ray had words, they are in an email, they lived like “Kings and Queens”. You must be getting snotty reading that, you like being snotty.
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Let me tell me tell you about my fortieth birthday. Someone had the intent to cause me maximum personal harm that day. I could only imagine such an idea would originate with someone like you. Once the idea got rolling I am sure it was a team effort. Always is. It amazes me how well my instinct knew something was up. Your little sister sent me that innocent text out of the blue, completely out of sync with the past year. I made the right call in my view, that being she was never to contact me again.
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So on to my 40th birthday, a mere two days after the effective date of that notice so kindly placed on a door I had not only paid for, but installed. By the way it’s funny how you clowns have managed to lock me out of the house with another door and lock I have both paid for and installed. Ironic. The strange thing is that I seen that one coming two years ago when I turned the lock around. If I didn’t commit suicide at that point, turning that lock around was sure to bite me in the ass. Things didn’t look good two years ago so I left it.
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My fortieth birthday. I was lucky, I was around people that cared about me. That’s often the case at work. It’s funny how time and time again, the people I work with often care, yet my family doesn’t. There must be motivational factors there. Even extended family knows you are all about money. Recently someone even described you as a weasel. They said you always were. There’s something wrong with me because even as I write this I care about your feelings. I feel guilty. Yet you don’t. You’ve almost killed me several times and you still do not care.
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So onto my fortieth birthday. My stress was running so high, my mind running so fast, I could hardly function. I had to ask everyone around me not to speak to me. I had to ask friends not to call. One more drop of information and my mind which was processing as much as it could as fast as it could was liable to implode and permanently shut down. People were warning me that I was going to drop dead, they were concerned. They should have been I was on their job.
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It still amazes me that I could hardly function, I couldn’t think one step ahead in a job that I can normally do with my eyes closed. Even further, I was able to teach the guy I was working for the basics of my trade, my skillset. Something that actually works against me. I teach my skills I replace myself. That’s the “real world” that you used to snidely remark that I needed to learn. You’ve never been self-employed, you’ve never worked in a fierce supply and demand market with no protection. You know nothing of the real world, other than how to bend, cheat and manipulate rules earned by those before you.
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I had a Superintendent by the name of Tim that day. Tim is a really nice man. Unlike you, he has children, he’s been married, divorced and like the man of good character that he is, he coaches baseball. He’s American by birth. The US Government wanted him to become an Officer during the Vietnam war. After College he came to Canada and avoided the whole thing. That probably saved his life. He was almost green in the face on my birthday, he had schedules and clients. I could offer him nothing but one foot in front of the other. He never lowered himself like you. He recognized another human in deep need of peace and he kept his head above it all. He acted like any father, or true brother would, with love.
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However that didn’t stop Tim from cracking a joke. He said it’s Danny’s birthday, let’s have some fun and shoot him in the head. In the same manner that someone would put down a troubled horse. Just put him out of his misery. I appreciated that comment from him, it hurt, but I appreciated it. I told him he’d have to take a number. Someone was already trying and they had my own mother pulling the trigger. Then the shock hit me, someone may actually try for real. I mentioned someone I slept with to the Port Moody Police and yes, those bullets are real.
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So what do you have to be proud of Jim? You are forty-five years old. You are a façade. You have a house in Maple Ridge. I am told everything you have is stolen or cheated. You have no children. You have no wife. You put everyone else down to make yourself feel better. Personally, I almost can’t believe that you are a teacher at BCIT. Do they not have edicate policies? Or do birds of a feather all flock together? You go through life acting like you have more class than others. Like you are some how above other humans. People tell me you adopted that from mom.
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I want to correct you on something. You once prided yourself that I was jealous of you. I have thought about that for a very long time. I honestly cannot recall ever feeling jealous. In fact, the only thing I have concluded is the exact opposite. You have always felt threatened by your youngest brother and you’ve tried your best to eradicate him for nearly thirty-five years. It’s not my fault I had a bedroom above yours with a nice bed, nice furniture and my own television in 1981. It’s not my fault that you were downstairs sharing a room with Mike growing a hate on for me as I played innocently above you.
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This house you have kept involving yourself in. This includes the relationship (or now lack of it) with my very own mother. It’s not your business. You fled this ship. You fled taking. You fled laughing. You wanted nothing to do with it. You had your own house remember? You were like this almost until dad’s death. Laughing, it was really funny to see your parents lose everything. Yet, on the other hand, there is no way anyone is getting more than you if there’s anything left in the end. You are one sick individual do you know that? Even an elder in this large extended family said “Jimmy always gets his doesn't he?”. I have heard you year after year in my life speak of the word Fair. You should never use that word. You don’t even comprehend it’s true meaning.
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Just within the last two months, I believe it was late November, I heard that you spat some words. You likely sounded judgmental and condescending, that's how I read you. Somehow you came to believe that I cost my mother this house. I’d like to ask you what is wrong with you? I am the only reason she still has it. If I acted anything like any of you in the years past this place and everything in it was long gone. Perhaps what you mean is that I have cost you your ability to take that from me, your ability to sail through life unfloundered by the issues here, your ability to gain some inheritance that you simply believe you deserve through entitlement. This after all is why you used to rub your hands at me laughing as my life turned into this house over and over. This is why you blocked all my repeated attempts to secure myself and my life.
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So, I’ve been at a loss on exactly how to do all of this. Just over a month ago I felt I knew exactly. I stalled. Now I am just writing on the fly. One step at a time I am sure I will get a lot out. It may not be in the order that clearly shows the options and the directions at each point in my life, but I am confident it will show much. I am going to take a break. I am going to post a picture with this. I am sure you will recognize the hand writing. Perhaps you can explain to the world your involvement in it. How that number just dwindles towards the bottom. That man not only fed, clothed and housed you, he wiped your ass and he literally tried to give you the world.
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Please explain your involvement. I never felt you were appropriate and neither did he.
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Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Striking when the Knife is Hot.
I don't know what's wrong with me, maybe I am too nice. The time to get everything out or as much of it as I can is now. I've been stalling, deciding if I should or not. I'll likely forget events, even large ones. Or I might word them less worthy than the effect they had. Then there's the way I am doing this. Facebook doesn't really allow me to type notes and then order them consecutively. I been concerned that if I don't do so now I may regret it come Friday. You've been quiet, maybe your staying away Jim because you have realized this business is not yours.
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However, I just heard you stomp up the stairs like you do when you are on a mission, when you are full self-purpose and negative mindset. Even the dog was barking like mad. Unlike yourself, you’re not parking front and center in the driveway all proud to make a presence. You are on the street. So I am left wondering what’s up? Are you taking more boxes out of the house? I notice that you know. I know what you two are like. When she’s wrapped around your finger she gives you whatever you want. Perhaps your plotting a counter attack to these posts? A family member says I should go up and give you a hug. I don’t see that happening. I think it would be dangerous to talk to any of you, you lie and twist things.
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I can’t help but wonder, what brought you here? Advice from work? A lawyer? Another free meal? A need for a Signature?
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So perhaps I should just continue posting? Some may be normal interaction with siblings, some not.
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PS. I had visitors yesterday, I shared some of your words with them. Their reply? That certainly doesn't help the situation.
Dialogue on Facebook with Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Shane McCardle: Just go up there and stand up for your self. Take a stand and tell him what's on your mind. It feels good.
Dan Berladyn: I'm probably going to delete this so I don't clutter the intent of this particular Facebook post.. If I go up there they will lie and spin a story. That's the way they are. In fact that could be dangerous as the police may be involved in doing something like that.
Shane McCardle: Nothing wrong with talking bud.
Dan Berladyn: Well from your perspective this may seem like the first time. I've tried talking for twenty years, two years ago I was told there was nothing to talk about. Nothing to talk about because she was cut off. She bit the hand that fed her and as soon as there was no more to to give, discarded. I've been extorted in a sense.
Dan Berladyn: She was warned in 2009 / 2010 like many times before. Although this time I knew it was the end. I warned her if it didn't change what was hitting me for years was going to hit her. Apparently I didn't know what I was talking about.
Shane McCardle: Well then bud I think for you from my point of view. Like in stock or investments when the investment is at a point of no return you take a loss and move on and rebuild from there. The longer you stay in the more you lose. For you it is more mental we…See More
Dan Berladyn: I am going to get pissed off. If I had work like yours and hobbies like yours, perhaps even a soul like yours I that would be easy to do. Walk away from your house there Shane and leave it to your brothers. That's easier for you than I for many reasons.
Shane McCardle: bud don't get mad. I'm only offering you some advice from an outside perspective. I understand that you can not see it clear as you are in the situation however I wish for you to take a moment and breath deep and slow and calm your mind. I am not talking against you I am talking with you as a friend.
Dan Berladyn: I know, I've been through this conversation with others. Some get it some don't. Also, if you knew the history, you'd know that this right here right now is what Jim planned for 18 years ago, it was also was mother promised against. You know what my…See More
Dan Berladyn: You know, those clowns already planned for her to be dead. According to them, she was only going to last a few more years after 2006.
Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Jim Berladyn -> Your Complaints to the Police.
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I am just letting you know that your complaint against these postings were followed up. I had a visit by the Port Moody Police. I find it strange that you would complain. It's barely been over 24 hours. I understand that it might be uncomfortable, but honestly this is nothing compared to what you have put me through in thirty-six years. How you’ve made me feel. The compounding issues you’ve given me. The embarrassment you have put me through. What you have taken from me. What you are doing now. Honestly, this is nothing compared to any of that.
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Do you have any idea what you have done to my life? That's right, your words are coming now… "you don't care". I wish I had a recording of that, your facial expression and the way you kept repeating those words. I think most people here would punch you out. You know the difference between you and I? I don't even like doing this, I don't enjoy it giving someone discomfort unless I am pissed. As much I as I am told I should have no remorse, I actually care about your feelings. I don’t like it. Obviously you don’t care about mine. I asked you three or four years ago if you ever apologized to me once in your lifetime, you gloated “No!”. You also gloated that you “were glad this isn’t you”. Then you laughed that it “wouldn’t happen to you” (your too smart for that). You had so much satisfaction that I “couldn’t prove anything”… “hehehe..”. Really funny, it’s quite sad of you actually.
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You have left me no options. Why should I go any further in life carrying the baggage you burdened me with? All those stones you’d throw in my path? Almost anything to keep the other guy down so you can climb on his head. Who do you think you are better than? I dealt with you for years measuring yourself against me. What made you feel better and your self-appraising laughter made me feel worse. You can only compare yourself against yourself. I hope you learn that. Even more so, you should never laugh at someone struggling. Personally I think there is something wrong with someone who stands over another’s shoulder giggling “hehehe..” at their misfortunes. Especially when you helped created those misfortunes.
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So as I believed - I have done nothing illegal with these posts. I don’t even intend to hurt you, I only intend to take some of this load off and place it where it belongs. Return to sender so to speak. I could use better words, I could be more focused. I don’t sleep much at times. My health, you’ve deeply hurt that too.
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By the way, I can’t state where this information came from, but do you have her selling this house? Is it sold already? It seems I am the last to know anything, yet the first to pay the price. You wouldn’t guide her into doing something like that would you? Surely a stand up guy like yourself would have encouraged two adults with a common goal to work together all these years. You wouldn’t do something like force their relationship apart for your own interests?
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What’s next for you? Marriage counselling? Just think… after the husband commits suicide you can then move on to doing what you do best. Selling people's Estates. I shouldn’t post this, but to me, you looked like a pig in shit when I found an ad of yours. You just love it! Damn, lol… I know you enough to even know you’ve said those words while rooting through someone’s personal belongings. Does that hurt? I honestly didn’t mean it to.
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Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
$100,000+.
I laid down for a rest earlier tonight and I was honest with myself. You and your cause to take from me while ensuring no one gets more than you have cost me over a $100,000 in lost wages in the last twenty years. Likely well over and far beyond that number, it might not even be a stretch to say double. That’s just wages alone. There's nothing like going through life in the "real world" as you like to call it with a knife in your back by your own brother. For a guy who has always been so insecure and scared to have anyone make him look bad, you sure have no problem doing the very same to others. You would have been a wreck throughout your life with an older brother like you. I know it.
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I’ve spoken with a few cousins regarding the party coming up, family pictures here on Facebook… My intuition tells me the four of you have gone around the circle. They are free to believe what they want as anyone. I know what I know and I know what I have experienced. The counsellor called the four of you Takers while dad and I were Givers. I never liked that. We both know that you have thrived in past years by taking from me. You thrived because you know that was never my intent. To give what’s mine to you. Giver isn’t the right word. Devalued, boxed in, projected upon, cheated, shafted, victimized and exploited is more accurate, but I’ll think of a good word at another time.
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You will never succeed among those who devalue you. I know that to be true. Everything here is the fruit of your own making Jim. The only thing I am sorry for is being so slow to get moving on it.
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Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Dan Berladyn to Jim Berladyn, What was your motto again?
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Everyman for himself. Life is All About Me.
@#%$ Everyone.
Trust No One.
Cheat, Lie, Beg and Steal.
Life is All About Money.
Everything is Measured in Money.
He who dies with the most Toys Wins.
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Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Jim Berladyn, the man of class.
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I witnessed you laugh at mom and dad for years that this house was going to foreclose. It was so funny to you. I don’t understand that. You openly stated this over and over from sometime between 1994 until 2004 when dad left. Over time you said it less and less, but your opinion and the nature of your ridiculing laugh never changed. Yet on the other hand you laughed at me when I did a lot of work here that I was told I’d be compensated for in the mid 1990’s. You have no idea what my intentions were with all of that.
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You’d laugh at me for holding my head up cutting this grass doing what I could do to help while I tried to wait for my own position to get better. Sure I looked like a dork I bet. Head high, taking pride in cutting the lawn. I don’t know if you cut it twice, but unlike Mike, I did each time. Two different directions, then I’d alternate the next cut. Mike would intentionally leave misses, long strips of grass just to be an ass. You laughed at me for that. For taking pride in cutting the grass.
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You were too cool for school. I remember one day you pulled up and it started to hit me. You guys were going get yourselves all set up while I hung back and did the work. Then in time, once you were established you’d crawl back and become “good boys”. That made me want to quit and go, but then I realized that if I did that my mother and father lost out. And it wouldn’t even be here. Funny mom’s friend said the same thing to me in 2008. If I didn’t do what I did, there would be nothing for you to have fought over.
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You laughed at mom and dad. Yet, at the same time you would brag about coming home for a free weekly meal. You took every advantage that you could while enjoying hurting everyone else. One day you came home with a mission. I knew you were up to something, I was cutting the grass and I stopped and went directly inside. There were you were Jim, all spread legged and proud in the kitchen with mom. You proudly claimed the house was 25% yours, rubbing it in my face. Yet you have “class”.
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Yes, through the years mentioned you claimed it was going to be a sad day full of tears for mom when this house was lost. It was going to be all over but the crying and you enjoyed saying that. I speak the truth Jim you know that. I had to carry those thoughts with me when I went off to work in a very hard job. You enjoyed it.
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You ran from a sinking ship and when your younger brother tried bailing and bailing you came back and grabbed the wheel. No one gets more than you right? You’ve had mom so wrapped around your finger she’d hide food I bought and feed you. I know you’ve been proud of that, but do you know how disgusting that is?
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What did you say in 2001? Oh yeah, it would never work with mom and I. She’ll get too old and her hips will go. She won’t be able to make it up the stairs, it’s not worth it. I remember that now.
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I remember hearing your words one day, the house should be gone and that way no one gets it. If you never cared about it, what does it matter? It was important to dad, to mom and to me. The rest of you abandoned it. You all smirked, rubbed your hands and laughed at me. Dad had a rule, if you leave you do not come back. Yet you all did by sticking your noses in it for gain.
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Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Looting the family home.
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What was it sixteen years ago? My brother Jim Berladyn was looting the house and selling items on Ebay. I caught him coming down from the attic with a box of toys. Right away he blurted out angrily that they were all his. Standing right in front of him I looked down and I see toys I was given. I told my sister who looked up his Ebay account, there he was she said, selling all kinds of things from the house with no permission. He later changed into multiple Ebay accounts to hide his actions.
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For stuff in plain sight he would go to mom. He’d tell her to let him sell everything and he’d give her 50% of the sale. Perhaps that was fair, I don’t know, but his motivation wasn’t mom. It was money.
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Jim Berladyn told me that Customers paying $100 per hour to fix their cars were dumb. They never noticed the emblems, miscellaneous parts, small things he could take and sell on Ebay. I witnessed all of this. Then he bragged he made enough money selling on Ebay to pay for his $12,000 truck.
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I remember being angry about this. I worked honestly, only getting paid for what I actually did. Not even hourly, but a contract price where I more often than not did extra work unpaid. I’m sure the contractor I was working for will remember this story. He almost convinced me to get out of this house.
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I finally came to all green lights inside. I was with a Realtor and I remember I could let anyone know or they’d derail me. Part of my pain was letting go of everything lost by not continuing to save RRSP’s and the emotion, money and time wasted in this house. I had to let it all go. Let them all win. I settled on a Townhouse in Port Moody for many compounding reasons.
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When I was negotiating and making offers I became nervous. I decided that I needed someone to make sure I wasn’t making a big mistake. My brother Jim Berladyn took me to buy his place, I offered objective opinions on different properties and companionship. When I took my brother Jim to see the townhouse, he laughed in my face. I can’t afford more like him he concluded. He was “better” than me. He was right, I should buy a house, but as a big brother, he did nothing to help me look. He just took my pride.
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Immediately I knew this was an emotional set back which would cost me dearly. I'm sensitive. The way I am, at least a year with having to nurse my emotions. Ok, most of you may not be like that but I am. I take it personally when people who are suppose to care about me laugh at my expense. Especially if I have cared about them and actually helped them at great expense.
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I can’t win no matter what I do here. Today I feel like asking someone to just shoot me and put me out of my misery. You know one of the concerns I had in buying that townhouse or any property? If I left home, home would likely collapse and the emotional vacuum of it may have actually taken me with it. Even if I didn’t live here. It would be the guilt.
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Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
It's my fault. I should have decked you a long time ago Jim. Like I tell the police though, if I had done that I'd have a problem with them. Not only that, it would have destabilized this house. You may not even realize it but you are killing me no…See More
(I have to go back and find this, I missed this one)
Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Jim Berladyn upon my Fathers Death
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Upon my father’s death my brother Jim sneered the rest of my dad’s brothers were going to drop like flies. You watch he chuckled. I witnessed that comment. Then I remember watching him try and impress his success to them. I remember the last uncle I have alive feeling nervous about who was next. I told him not to worry, that he’d be last. I was correct.
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At my father’s death, I witnessed my brother Jim Berladyn tell my brother Mike Berladyn that they have to get to the shop before one of my Uncles screws them and keeps my Fathers belongs. Jim stated they were going to go together to ensure that it was “fair”. I was left thinking, well if it’s to be fair, why am I not going? Upon talking to the Uncle in question, they shook him down. He told me they made him feel like complete crap. He said it was disgusting as they looted through the shop looking for belongings that were not there.
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I found all of that behaviour strange as this particular Uncle was in the hospital with my father more than I was. At least it seemed that way, and I went every morning and every night until the end. I rarely seen my brothers, I don't even recall seeing them until the last night. Even more upsetting is the fact that is the same Uncle who helped keep this house going when we were children. The same Uncle who kept my father going in his final years. I stated my father had it hard and he did.
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In fact, I remembered all the bad words and laughter towards my father from my brothers. I remember one brother being so upset that my father would stop by his place when he wasn’t home. He was so thankful that he had gates so my father could not have access to his property. I phoned this brother and I told him these exact words: “That is your father, he wiped your ass, you make sure you go see him in the hospital”. The intent was clear, I strongly felt he would not go and regret that inaction. That made me a bad guy, maybe you think so too? I don’t know.
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Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Teamwork (and Fairness)
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Our father wanted the three of us to be team. He gave the three of us a car. Jim Berladyn hastily told Mike Berladyn to get me to clean the inside, from there I could hear them under the hood. My oldest brother started going off about how it’s unfair. They’d do all the work. That’s how brothers @#%$ each other and it’s not fair.
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I could hear him come up with his plan to tell my dad that they did it all and that therefore they should get the car alone. Then they came to me and told me that I was not allowed to do anymore. To get out. I was young. My dad would have come home very tired back then. I don’t blame my dad for giving in. But the point is, they weaseled me out my share of the car.
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Jim just laughs if I bring up the story. That was given to me as well Jim. There should be interest on that money you two owe me.
Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Godfathers
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Jim Berladyn, your Godfather. There’s 25 people alive today because of him right? I don’t want to mention his name for fear of tarnishing it, but I want to mention him too. I might not have the chance later, the first thing I do tomorrow is see a nurse regarding my health. I don’t want to assume, but I think it was all those hours I let you spend here on my computer many years ago which reminded you of who he was.
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I witnessed you put my father down, even after his death, yet he couldn’t have been that bad of a guy. He had a lot of friends. People still have respect for him. My father was a good enough man to earn you that Godfather you preach so highly of. He’s well known isn’t he? I wonder if you would have spent so much time with him if he was in the same shoes as your own father.
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I remember meeting him when I was young. Dad told me I wouldn’t understand who he was. Dad was right, I was too young. Thank you for thinking of me when you re-introduced me to him. I sure hope you don’t regret that. I remember sitting with him looking at those medals. When I learned of his hobby for model trains, a former love of mine, you became upset and I never even saw them. You warned me never to go there alone because he was all yours. I think your exact words were “he’s all mine!”.
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Of course, you always have such a tone when you say things. It’s hard to capture it in writing. He was old and you helped him a lot didn’t you? Thanks for the trip to Seattle.
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I haven’t seen my own Godfather since before I turned one years old. If even that and I can't even ask my mother. Either way, I think I am very lucky to have had him. Dad said nothing but really good things about that man, in fact everyone does. If he was here, I can’t imagine any reason I would tell you not to see him. That would imply you were going to take something from me.
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Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Swindling beds
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Jim Berladyn, you took advantage of the fact that I looked up to you and you swindled your way into taking my bed and all of my bedroom furniture when I was young. My only condolence in that act has been remembering that I once wet th…See More
Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Killing your youngest brother.
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I remember being twenty years old. I was told I was forty years old in a mid-life crisis. Something else I was also told then is interesting. I was told that I must want to kill my oldest brother. I find it rather likely that my words have made it to him by now. My oldest Brother is Jim Berladyn. I think to survive I have had to suppress a lot of emotion, it confused me back then.
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Last night I was told that maybe I should let him know that I want to kill him. Place some fear into him. I’m not so sure I should, in fact the beauty of the whole situation may be exactly this. I know something about life that he doesn’t. There is a good chance that I have to do nothing and he likely won’t escape. I have heard more than enough stories in my years. In fact, I think it's even written in a book.
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Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Stressing the Household (brother Jim Berladyn)
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Excerpts from an email entitled as such, dated February 25th, 2009 (improved for understanding)
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“I have to stop suspecting people. Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that I went upstairs to ask mom what all the cackling was about. I asked if the subject was myself or my (now) ex-brother in law, my mother said it was Jim laughing at my (now) ex-brother in law. I’m going to believe her. I shouldn’t enjoy this, but the baby started to cry when Jim tried to pick her up.”
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In reply this above, I was told “That baby must be a good judge of character!”. Fifteen minutes before I wrote that, I had written the below.
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“Jim just left. It’s funny, the conversation gets louder at the end. He sounds really happy and they are talking like two women about the price of something for his cat. How it is so expensive and blah blah blah. Sounds like they are very well connected or at least he’s making sure he’s connecting well with her. From knowing what I know about those two, I am sure Jim’s laughing (a cackle) is either at me or my (now) ex-brother in law.”
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Do you know what I find strange?
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My (now) ex-brother in law was chasing me down the highway, swerving in an out of traffic in September, 2015. I don’t believe I have seen him in five years. It actually reminded me of something out of a National Lampoon movie. Considering that I was up extremely late the night before with someone who told me my mother would have killed herself if I didn’t do what I did and the fact I was dealing with something that even my bank had said was a lot to deal with, I was emotional and feeling rather weak that day. It actually prompted me to make a report with the Port Moody Police where I was told I needed Victim Services.
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It took me three weeks to comprehend that perhaps I really am a victim. Perhaps what I feel inside is true. I didn’t even have the self worth to shake that Officer’s hand. When he told me not waste my life away on drugs, I replied that I am too smart for that. I realized later, he may have actually saved my life. I think it was three weeks later I ended up meeting with Victim Services. It was a talk worth having, little did I know that I would need to write them within the next month. I understand now, that I was right to want to talk them in 2006, something I was advised against by a Counsellor.
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Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Maturity and Growing Up
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I was told last night that my oldest brother Jim Berladyn is going around telling everyone that I need to grow up. The person who told me that also told me that he thinks I am more grown up than my oldest brother. If I look at my history, I can move to any point in time, but let’s go back twenty years ago when I was told I was forty and having a mid-life crisis. Twenty years ago, the time I am told I shouldn’t care about, like it’s not important. It was very important to me, I don’t know why everyone else tries to rub it out. Like they want to erase it.
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I wasn’t laughing at my own father who was nursing his emotion in alcohol. I wasn’t laughing that my mother was going to lose her home and everything in it. I didn’t find that funny. In fact, it deeply bothered me, I loved this home I have exceptionally deep attachments to it for very valid reasons. At the same time, I was smart enough to know that everything I did then would determine my life right now. I needed to get on my feet, I needed that for myself for more reasons than I can ever explain. I had tremendous highly anxiety. Buying RRSP’s were the only thing that made me feel good about myself. My brother Jim Berladyn laughed at that too, he devalued it so much that I quit.
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I wasn’t a Son who was laughing in my parent’s face. I am not a Son who said “I am not paying you rent! Parents don’t charge their kids rent! Parents don’t use their kids!” This moved forward to very excited expressions such as “I am not working on your house, I have my own.” I am not a Son who walked around exclaiming “They (my parents) want it all!”. I am not a Son who enjoyed my parent’s glim future. I never said such things as “The bank is going to foreclose on that house, when they take it, it’s going to be all over but the crying. It’ll be a sad day”. I could never say such things with enjoyment.
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My oldest brother said that stuff like he was masturbating. Yet on the other hand he would brag about getting his free weekly meal. He even came up with the plan for my sister. That being he should use her to help pay his mortgage, she should live with him, $400 for a room. I am trying to understand if that is more mature than I? This after all is family, your own blood. My father told me he did such things as lend people money for down payments to buy their first homes. My oldest brother Jim Berladyn, still refers to him as “that guy” in a negative connotation.
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Interesting, I wonder if my oldest brother told my father what he told me. That being, I don’t know what life is about. Apparently it’s all about money and yourself. Money is something I strongly felt I would have learned to manage wisely investment wise if I only had four walls around me. That was when I was twenty years old or so. I wanted to correct myself. I had the will to, I could foresee myself enjoying it.
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I remember my other brother, I haven’t said much on him. Shameful. He was doing cocaine in the garage and he wanted to build a party house. He came to me trying to use me like he had done all my life. He baited me into an outcome he desired. The idea interested me, I could take his willingness to work and turn it all around on him. I could do what he had done to me for years, trick him. I tricked my brother, I am guilty.
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I tricked my brother Mike Berladyn into renovating the downstairs so my parents could get a stream of revenue in the future. Have no fear, my brother Mike Berladyn is no fool. Once he realized it wasn’t about him partying in a home that could barely stay afloat he refused to work. In fact, he even took it upon himself to laugh at me while I worked after hours. After hours in a job where I worked like a dog 42.5 to 51 hours per week for Rod Schwan. That must be maturity on brother Mike’s part.
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This work in the house, it was talked about in a very high regard, I was told I was going to get. My oldest brother Jim Berladyn laughed at me for that too. He figured I should have been smarter and made the deal first, otherwise I would get nothing. I wasn’t even sure I wanted anything, however I did like the pride. It seems to me that my oldest brother is all about getting, no matter whose expense, that comment really bothered me, in fact it hurt me deeply. It took my pride. I have to wonder if that is maturity?
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Should I keep going or? Perhaps I should write on the others I don’t know. All I know is that today that is all devalued. Apparantly I did nothing down here. A 1969 Stove on top of carpet tile was to be considered a kitchen in a suite that somehow pre-existed. However, there really was no suite on my behalf. Mother ensured it was never sealed off from the upstairs. Couldn't allow that in her home.
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Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Stolen Property and Jim Berladyn
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Someone recently told me that my oldest brother Jim Berladyn’s house is full of things that are swindled, cheated and stolen. He’s locked me out of a house that has been agreed to is in at least part mine because I have worked for it and done what’s necessary to keep it going so that my parents did not lose it. I have property on the other side of a door and walls I have built and paid for. Right now I think that’s probably stolen too. I don’t know, I haven’t actually tried to get to the other side. Last time I did my cat was trapped so I phoned the Police for advice.
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I heard not too long ago that my brother Jim Berladyn was trading in stolen property at one time. To me it fits. I know him, I can see him doing it. It’s all about money, that way he feels better than others. No remorse, no guilt, no shame. Just be smart enough not to get caught. That’s something to be proud of. Kind of like screwing your dad and laughing at him when you clean out his apartment. Those are good trait’s, they should be rewarded right? My mother seems to think so. At least it looks that way to me.
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There is a rule among Tradesmen, you never steal someone’s tools. They are their livelihood. Their means of an income. I wonder what happens here if that determination is against me. Does he steal that too? For me, I never liked the idea of stolen property - do you know why? You perpetuate a black market, that in turn causes more stealing. It’s almost like a mother who encourages a lack of morals among her children by rewarding schemers. They grow up to be Takers.
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Speaking of Takers, I noticed my brother Jim Berladyn seems to be working hard on winning over cousins that he thought nothing of laughing and putting down years ago. People are stupid, myself included. I should have asked extended family to take me out of this family at eight years old when I first recognized I could go. I didn’t want to feel awkward, I didn't want anyone to feel like we had an abnormal household.
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Still waiting on my mother. I guess that’ll be a long time, she might have to ask Jim and Lisa first.
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Posted to Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January, 2016
Toyota Tundra's
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I was asked not to long ago why it matters what someone is saying on the driveway in a home that I was told I could get if I kept it up. On a driveway in a home that in at least is part mine. My reply to that was I had to ask why I wouldn’t care. I mean after all, I have people walking into my home violating me and violating my personal space. They even threaten to go through it when I am not at home and I am at work. I have not been able to control that for the majority of my life.
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It has made me so sick inside that I have wanted to vomit my insides out while having to maintain production for some of the best known names in town. I’d almost describe the violating as bullying. I even took the person I live into counselling over it. Silly me, I trusted myself to a doctor, I really should have just let work come to the house, they wanted to. Or even phoned the Police, they help instill the peace in these situations. That was 2006, a year after my father passed away. It’s now ten years later.
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Last year at this time I had a job I liked and everyone there seemed to like me. I had a lot of opportunity there. However, because of the personal history and health effects of family dynamics, medication and doctors that perhaps were wrong - I am in this situation. I had to separate work from home completely, but you can only do that so long. Somebody there was too interested in me, my “work wife” and kept prying. Eventually I spilled a little family history into my work place. It’s like poison.
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It wasn’t long before I was sick on this job trying to hide how much things affected me. I have these people in my home, my space, who have affected my life to the point of suicide running the household. They are all around me and they influence it because I am not on title. In fact, they influence a lot of things, they have no risks, nothing to lose. They can fight and then go home. Meanwhile, I have to rest and work.
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Eventually as always, home life created a wobble for me. Small wobbles grow into large ones. I couldn’t even set up my truck at home. People that don’t even live here were influencing decisions regarding the household. Managing that stress, made work stresses to great. You start losing control and one day you pop, you just quit when too much BS happens at work. I was even hearing comments about why I traded in my vehicle for another. How I shouldn’t have done that. I even hear extended relatives state that. How is that anyone’s business but mine? It is a WORK item.
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I’ve always thought my brother Jim Berladyn’s truck was an ugly tacky piece of junk. It’s my opinion and I’ve always kept it to myself. I don’t make comments within his earshot and I don’t weasel into the relationship of his wife or the woman he lives with. But then again, he has neither as far as I know. People still ask me if he’s gay.
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So today here I am with a doctor. I need to get my stress levels down. We talk about why they are so high. We talk about a lot of things. Right now the game plan is to get my stress level down, get that fixed. I actually start finding peace. I think maybe I will finally wash my truck and take a look at that six foot long ¼” scratch on the left side near drivers door. An odd spot, but a common spot considering it’s a traffic area here at this house. The first scratches on this new truck in the rear quarter panel, line up with the garbage cans. Interesting.
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Low and behold I am outside and here pulls up this Toyota Tundra. Front and Center, all important. That makes me laugh. At funeral services here the owner of the truck Jim Berladyn did the same. My elderly relatives where saying… I guess will walk from the street so the important people can park in the driveway. That was sarcasm on an elderly ladies part, one who has now since passed.
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Anyways, seeing this Toyota Tundra pull up all front and center there’s something arrogant about it. My stress level jumps right up. Should I approach and ask him for a big hug like people tell me to? It doesn’t seem right. But instead of backing down, hiding, I relax and turn to attention. He fumbles with his phone for five minutes, I have to wonder if he’s thinking of video recording me in my own home or if he’s just trying to intimidate me.
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I don’t change stance, eventually he gets out looking up all upset. Actually, he looks a little ill. Small even. Why would I let him intimidate me? Something from childhood or something to do with his influence over my mother? I’ll talk about that with the doctor some more as we talk about some history in a couple of days. In the mean time, I decided to wash my truck. I mean, if someone’s going to pull up on a driveway that’s suppose to be mine and not acknowledge me why I should I not wash my truck? I’ve done that for too many years, I’ve been considerate about over-spray for far too long.
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Small people get elderly ladies to commit FRAUD and LIE under OATH. Small people laugh at their father. That’s just my view.
Posted to Extended Family over Facebook by Dan Berladyn - January / February, 2016
Just so you guys know how serious this is to me. In the Summer I was offered a gun. I do not have one. You do not need to phone the police, they already know this, they know more than you. I did not take it but I thought about it. It would have been easier than dealing with these fucks.
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OK, I hope only to post in here with pictures, but I do want to say something. I know my situation, who I am, what happened to me more than any of you. Furthermore, I know how important it is to me not to go down like this.
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The Police know as much, even more than all of you. I try to keep them in the loop. You do not need to call. The intent of my post was to show you how important all of this was to me when I asked for help and now my current future.
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You didn't go through my life wearing these shoes. If you want to abandon me because you think it's too much, go ahead. I after all out of everyone should be used to it by now. You have no idea.
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I remember Jim saying many years ago this is the kind of situation where no one will help you. And you go crazy, you end up with nothing, everything you say and do works against you. Then I watched the light bulb go on in his head, I watched try to ensure that it happens. To survive, I’ve had to bury it just to get through the day for years.
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No matter what you think life is about for yourself, being taken advantage of and put for 40 years to have nothing and ill health. Sorry, that’s not for me.
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