Distant Sister

Missed two days.

December 24-spent the evening with my daughter. It was awesome.

December 25-spent the day recovering from drinking the night before.

December 26.

The day after Christmas and there’s much to unpack. My therapist recently tasked me with researching the reasons & importance of traditions because I don’t have any and this is weighing heavy on me.

The news had a segment last night about traveling and the people that were interviewed all talked about connecting with family and how that was what’s important and I knew they were right but I have no desire to connect with my family, except for my children.

It occured to me today that I still harbor a lot of resentment. For most of my life, I blamed my siblings for being free. I resented their ability to not be tied to the War Zone like I was. I told myself that their freedom was only possible because they stood on my back to get there and left me behind never looking or reaching back for me.

Last year when I published Why I Didn’t Tell I mentioned how when I finally told my siblings about the sexual abuse, my brother went to speak/confront the abuser but never reached out to me. My oldest sister actually asked me if I was being fair. I remember thinking that I was truly invisible to her and the rest of them.

When I decided to publish my book, my older sister was terrified of the prospect because she believed I was going to tell her secrets.

When my sister’s house burned down, I found out weeks later from my oldest son. I called my sister but she didn’t answer, so I called my mom who also didn’t answer. Two minutes later my sister called saying “I told mom I had to call you cause I knew you didn’t know.”

So yeah, I guess I still harbor some resentment and family is still difficult for me.

I know much of that comes from the abuse and the shades of survival I’ve developed. I’m just not sure that my resentment is wrong, nor do I have a clue as to how to deal with it. But surely this must be addressed. And like everything else I’m dealing with, I will be doing this work without their help. And that’s what hurts. The silence.

I’ve held my silence about the abuse but in place of my silence was the rage. Every one of my siblings has caught some of that rage in one form or another and they’re human just like everyone else and they can only take so much of that. I’d leave me alone too if the tables were turned. I cannot undo what’s been done. I can only move forward.

As I undo a life of running from and with the whirlwind, this resentment of my siblings is among the undoing.

Undoing that means setting and accepting boundaries. With my siblings, I feel the only way to do boundaries is to stay away. When the times come along to get together, it’s usually a holiday and the abuser is always invited. And this is too much for me.

I know he’s dad and they will not cut him out of their life as I have.

I would love to hang out with them. I enjoy spending time and catching up and hearing about all that’s going on. I cheer each of their triumphs and feel the losses. It’s just hard to balance my love for them and their love for the abuser.

Truly this is a wind that blows its own way. And I can no longer follow that.

I must undo, redo and do me. And part of that means being a distant sister.