I Have a Sister

This seems like a new fact to me, though it is not. My sister and I used to be good friends, but I've barely talked to her at all in several years even though we live in the same neighborhood. She called me out of the blue yesterday. The timing was odd, because I was a thinly controlled mess when she called. No, I didn't cry and spill my guts. I'm not that easy (and intimacy freaks me out). However I did discover a lot of amazing information. The most amazing bit was this: She thought that I have been mad at her all these years because of the surprise party she threw for me that included my mother and brothers and nearly gave me a nervous breakdown. I did not appreciate the party at all. But... I did understand that my sister did not completely understand my situation at the time and I knew her intentions were the best. And in her case, because she has a long track record as a good person, friend and sister, I could not be angry with her for wanting to give me a birthday party. It was actually after that that I stopped speaking with her. But it wasn't because I have anything against her. I certainly don't. I stopped speaking to her because of shame.

It started when I had a flashback one evening in which I fell because I was trying to hide in my disorganized disaster of a bedroom closet, but there was too much crap tripping me up. I was asking for my sister and my husband called her. She came over and I was lying face down on the floor in front of my closet crying hysterically. I was sweaty, wearing a dirty T-shirt, hair standing on end, snot all over me... I was gross and disgusting. But my sister? She wasn't. Yes, we grew up in the same house and she has certain issues, too, but she's better off than I am. And there she was on the dusty floor with me in front of my closet. She was dressed to go out when my husband called, but she came to see me first. And she looked very pretty. Her hair was fabulous, she was dressed nicely and smelled wonderful. I was well aware that I smelled like a gym locker and looked like shit. Well aware. The dust on my floor, which I couldn't help but notice because of the face-plant, highlighted the difference between us. I was betting that her bedroom was not as dusty as mine and I'm still sure I was right.

And then it happened. The wrong words from someone better off. "You can't let Dad ruin your life." Yes, that is what she said. But I heard Old Guy yelling at me and saying that there is a difference between support and 'indulgence' (asshole). I heard my father telling me that I was the cause of my own problems. I heard all kinds of other shit. ...You can't LET him... you can't LET him... you can't LET him... All my fault. Again. I shouldn't have let things happen to me and if they happened anyway, then I shouldn't LET it bother me. I should do what I always did before, do the thing that finally brought me to my knees -- I should JUST KEEP ON KEEPIN' ON and act like everything's alright. No matter how bad I feel. I didn't want to be around her after that. I felt too ugly, dirty, stupid and crazy in her presence. I could imagine that she might be shaking her head in disappointment about my failure and I couldn't risk it. I needed very desperately to protect myself from seeing anything like that because I had already lost too much.

I wonder if I could have my sister back. She doesn't have to be perfect, she just has to be willing to listen if I say something isn't helpful. And of course, I have to be willing to tell her that in the first place. I wonder what will happen now. I'm not sure I have the guts to try.