I can write now. It feels like before I wrote about what happened with my parents, sister, and I, I had forced my posts out, never really writing about what I had to get out at the time. Now that I have gotten it out of the way I can now free-write.
These last two mornings I didn’t wake up with the heavy grey feeling of meaninglessness I’ve been experiencing for weeks. I was afraid it was there to stay.
The circumstances of the trip to Mexico may not have read to be so traumatizing, and it didn’t seem to me to be in its telling. But I know it had to have been because I couldn’t put words to it for six months and because a grey heaviness lifted off of me when I did tell of it. It’s like when you have a nightmare but the events in the nightmare wasn’t what frightened you but, rather, it was the feeling of dread and terror the nightmare gave. The trip was like that. It’s hard to really describe what happened that left me emotionally paralyzed and with a greasy black feeling in my gut, but it did. It’s because the events of the trip was heaped upon all the negative events with these people my whole life, and it was my final experience to let me know there is no hope, it will never change, and spending time with them hurts my soul in ways that I can’t even catalogue anymore.
There is an incident that occurred when I got home that made me want to be done with all my siblings once and for all. It sucked the last bit of energy out of me to want to attempt friendship with any of them, that they were all a lost cause for me. It was painful, but it was the last stab of the dagger. I want to write of it, too, as it added to the greasiness of the whole memory of what should have been a wonderful experience. It involved my younger sister, not the youngest, the Golden Child, but the second-to-youngest. She would be the one that, if I were to get along with any one of them, it would have been her, if she was willing.
While my parents and I were staying at my older sister’s place we went to a museum. I was past physically exhausted from CFS and from having been pecked at constantly by my sister. I mentioned in another post that I had involuntarily began crying in public and that was when it happened. Of course it was silent crying, but anyone looking at me while I sat on a bench could see I was. It was very embarrassing. We couldn’t go back at that point as it had taken so long to even find parking and my parents had already bought tickets to a IMAX show. My sister had a disgusted frown on her face.
I rallied myself together and went with them to look through the museum. It’s only occurred to me now writing this that I could have asked the museum for a motorized scooter because I would do that now if I were ever in the same desperate situation, if I wasn’t too shy. But I would never had done it in front of my family so I assume that’s why the idea didn’t even occur to me then. At a Viking exhibit I saw a wood carving of a head in one of the displays. It looked exactly like my brother-in-law, it was incredible. Laughing, I showed it to my dad and I took a picture of it on my phone to show my younger sister her husband’s look-alike when she picked me up at the airport like planned when I returned from the trip. My oldest sister was there with me and our dad and she saw it too.
When I got back home my sister was there waiting for me. It was a nice to see her and while we were waiting for my luggage I told her there was a picture on my phone from the museum that I wanted to show her, knowing it would be a good laugh. She brightly said, “I know! The Viking guy! (Oldest sister) sent us a picture of it. Even my husband thinks it looks exactly like him!” Something in me crashed.
The above won’t sound bad to those who wouldn’t know the background, but I hope some may understand what I know had happened back at the museum.
My older sister saw me take the picture of the display and would have heard me say that I was going to show it to our sister when I got home. When our dad and I moved on she must have hung back and taken a picture herself and immediately sent it to my sister. Anyone who knows narcissists knows why she did it. It was a swoop. Anything I could have she will steal it from me. Like I’ve said before, she’s like a deranged dog who hovers over another to find an opportunity to push it aside and eat its food.
I was surprised and my face must have fallen and I said something like, “But I was the one who saw it first and she knew I was going to show you the picture”. My younger sister suddenly acted like I was giving her a problem and muttered, “I don’t know, I wasn’t there.” And then she just looked away in silence.
She didn’t need to be there, I just told her what happened. She acted like I was being a problem. But I hadn’t just done anything wrong to be a problem. Seeing the sudden sad and surprised look on my face most people would have asked, “Why? What happened?”
You see how deep being the scapegoat is? Everyone is so conditioned that she immediately figured that our older sister must have had a good reason for doing this and that I was being difficult. My oldest sister almost NEVER speaks directly to my younger sister. We live way too far apart and there’s too much of an age difference between the two. For her to have sent her a text would have been highly unusual. Yet my younger sister wouldn’t see that there obviously was something odd about that and just wanted to drop it.
Later on the drive from the airport I tried to tell her how lonely the trip was, how our oldest sister had been unkind (I watered it down for her in hopes she would accept what I was saying). She then recommended some things she takes from the natural health store that helps her with her anxiety and depression. I haven’t had depression in years. And any anxiety I have wasn’t the reason for my older sister attacking me since I arrived at her condo.
When we got back to our parents place where I had left my car we were inside talking. We got to talking about her not ever wanting children (due to her anxiety) and I said that I did but had to have surgery to remove uterine fibroids that had prevented me from having them. I said that when the doctor, who knew I wanted children, showed up at my bedside after the surgery to tell me that I could have children now. She derisively laughed. At me? At the doctor for saying that? What a sensitive subject to laugh at someone about. I did ask her, not sharply at all, what was it that I said because I wanted to understand her reaction. But she wouldn’t answer me, leaving me sitting there like an idiot. I was insulted but I didn’t have anything I can respond with as she decided to spontaneously drop out of communicating with me.
I can see in my recounting this that I have a cringe-worthy habit of trying and trying, all within a time frame of a few hours. I can be insulted and I can’t seem to be able to form any defense nor set a boundary. I’m just dazed and then assume I’m too sensitive or read it wrong – things my mother always said to me as a child whenever I tried to stand up for myself, often adding, “You need to see a psychiatrist”.
I didn’t read it wrong and I wasn’t too sensitive. If I had the wherewithal at the moment of the picture incident I would have told her that our oldest sister had done something bitchy that I could tell her about if she was willing, but that I wasn’t happy with her turning her back to me in her head without first hearing the story.
I would not have continued to try to tell her my story. I would have informed her that her issues of depression and anxiety are not what I’m dealing with (at least they really don’t manifest in the same way they do in her) and that, even if they were, they wouldn’t be the reason for our sister’s behaviour. If I even had cared to have carried on the conversation at that point at all in the first place.
Very quickly after that, maybe only a day or two, I decided I will be dropping not just my oldest sister but all my siblings from my life. They are all infected with the scapegoat view of me and I’m not willing to try to change their minds. I have tried for decades.
Does she have her own issues due to our upbringing? It would seem she does, but I was willing to enter in it with her for years but she isn’t interested. She’s not even interested in a sisterly friendship.
I felt like a weight was lifted off of me and I feel it even more so now writing of this last insult to my injury.