Emails Between Sisters
Much of this has been posted here, as a normal blog. Finally told my sister about things last month.
I wrote:
November 18, 2007 - Still not sure what's going on inside my head. One day, I want to talk to somebody and the next, I think it's a dumb idea my sub-conscious came up with for attention. I'm still not sure what I'm going to do; I was so upset on Saturday (four of our friends Chris & Liz and Aaron & Cathy had cancelled [for legit reasons]). I had looked over those who hadn't responded and just lost it. I did two very nasty sounding bulletins on MySpace (that's how I got the word out to most everyone) after seeing that the majority of the folks I'd sent invitations to, hadn't even said Maybe (which I would have been fine with). That was the last straw; I promptly went upstairs, closed the door to my bedroom and sobbed. I know it was something minor but I feel that it really didn't help my state of mind, considering where it had been the previous days. When he [Patrick] didn't see me, he got the same feeling he did a few years ago, when he found me in a closet (in our place in IB). I'd gotten really depressed and didn't know what to do. So, I crawled into our closet, closed the door and cried myself to sleep. I knew he was a keeper when he found me and talked to me saying, "I'll stay up until 3am if I have to, to make sure you're okay. Start talking." Any previous relationships wouldn't have done that (except the one I was afraid of committing to; you never met him).
Bubbles wrote:
November 19, 2007 - I think you need to go see someone. It may not be post partum depression. maybe you're just depressed. It does run in the family, from Grandma down at least. I think it would help you a lot to talk to someone. Even if it is just to get things off your chest, and I don't think that person is anyone in the family. I wish I could help you. Love you.
I wrote:
November 19, 2007 - It seems so silly though (once I sit and think about it). I know it may be frustrating for you, hearing me go on and on, saying I want to go talk to somebody and then just change my mind the next day because I thought about it more.. thinking it's a stupid reason to talk to someone; or that I think I just may be blowing things out of proportion. I'm glad I recognized it now as opposed to being in denial about it for years. I wish you could help too. When I broke down a few years ago, most of it stemmed from issues I had with me, Mom and you. I got it off my chest with Patrick then; sometimes they resurface, but very rarely. I just don't want to be labeled in the category, you know? I'm also afraid that if/when I go (and I told Pat what I told you and he said that he'd drag me there if it comes down to it), and they give me meds, my drive will dwindle even more (I know you don't want to hear about that, but it's a fear I have). My drive is lacking enough as it is, I don't need something to make it worse. I really appreciate your support in this; it helps. A lot. Love you too.
Bubbles wrote:
November 19, 2007 - What issues did you have with me? And don't worry, if you really need to talk about something never forget that you're my sister. We're family, and you don't turn your back on family. My drive died last year, Jaden told me about it a couple of months ago.
I wrote:
November 19, 2007 - The issues, I guess, were mostly academically based. You were the rebel of the two of us, yet you got better grades, therefore shone brigther in front of Mom. I also felt kind of outcast because, without me in the picture, you guys were a "full" family and I barely even knew my own dad. I remember one time, we were in the kitchen (Utah) and we were bickering about something. Grandma Faye had sent us those gold heart necklaces for Christmas; mine was an outline and yours was solid. You told me that Grandma Faye loved you more because your heart was whole and mine wasn't. There was also that time in junior high school that I told you about the other day. I asked you if you knew where Mom was (it was after school, I think). You looked me straight in the eye and said she died in a car crash; you then walked off non-chalantly about the whole thing. I should have picked up on it then, but you know how naive I was then. And I'll admit, I still am a bit now. I always felt I was in your shadow. I was envious of you for a long time. The ONE time I decided to rebel, Mom popped off with (and I quote), "I don't need another 'Amber'!" At that time you were extremely rebellious; you and Tanya were hanging out a lot. I was also pissed off that you'd stolen, not one, but two of my friends. Granted, I had others, but Tanya and Jaz were my friends first. I asked them later why they started hanging out with you more and they both said, "She's more fun than you." Broke my heart to hear that; I didn't realize that I was so boring. I could never match you in anything. I felt you were Mom and Dad's "Golden Child" who could do no wrong, no matter how rebellious she got; she had good grades so it made up for everything. I felt they let you get away with just about everything you did, yet I got it a lot. Mom hit me once. She was yelling at me in the kitchen because I hadn't cleaned my room. I wasn't saying anything; my face was emotionless (as it normally got when I was yelled at; I'd get paralyzed from the neck down). She got more pissed so she punched me in the chest, knocking the wind out of me. She then proceeded to punch a hole in the wall (near the thermostat), stormed to my room downstairs (still had the pink room) and ripped apart the first thing she saw; this happened to be my FAVORITE book (Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry). She replaced it years later but I never forgave her for it. I told her about it some time ago and I don't think she even remembered the events of that night. I don't think she remembers hitting me (close-fisted; it was a punch/hit not a smack or a slap). She had a look of horror on her face when I told her; at least, that's how I remember it. I know I wasn't the best kid but still... you don't punch your child, no matter how pissed off you get. If anything, you leave the room so as not to hurt your child. I also felt that you and Mom always had a better connection because you're both the "youngest" sibling. I realize that happens with just about any family, but at the time, it hurt pretty bad. I felt Mom favored you a lot; I'm pretty sure Dad did too. You were his; I wasn't. I needed his attention. I needed to know that he wanted me around instead of telling me that I was a "...fuck-up bum." I felt as though there was a lot of psychological abuse on his part. He's a big reason why I rarely ever had confidence in myself to do things. He already knew I was going to fail. When I was in "A" school, I was telling Mom about APP (or whatever it was) and getting Honors. When I was home on leave and didn't have anything to show for it (I actually barely came out with a rating.. I got a 70-something) he asked me where the hell was it. I know I've fucked up (a lot) the last several years; the car was the last straw. That was the incident that prompted the "...fuck-up bum." I don't think that man every had a single ounce of genuine confidence in me whatsoever. That was when my cutting was at its worst; I did about 30 in one night (this was after the accident). Though, come to find out later, that it was Mom's idea, not his, for me to leave the house. He wanted me to stay (something about he didn't think I was ready or something); Mom told me this a few years ago. I know he wasn't raised in a super home, but I would hope that he'd have picked up on something from Mom. I don't know. I realize that I don't know everything to do with his childhood, but I'd like to be able to understand. I still have confidence issues because of his lack of confidence in me. He told me once that he had to sit and THINK about asking me to help him with something (Utah), because he knew that I'd fuck it up somehow; this was when he was trying to run copper wiring from the basement to the roof. I was doing it how he showed me and it got kinked. He got pissed and said, "I knew I shouldn't have asked you to help me." How do you say that to a kid?! That was when he told me he had to think about getting me to help him. Oh! Yeah, that summer you and Bryan came out, when the accident happened and I started cutting... I tried crying out for help to Mom. The first time, I was watching a tv movie on USA called "Secret Cutters" and watching it very intently. Mom came in, said, "Well, this is depressing; let's watch something else." To which I said, "Fine," and went downstairs to watch it. Later, she saw the cuts on my arms. I didn't hear, "Oh my God what happened? Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?" No, I heard, "Why are you doing that?" "I'm depressed and upset." "Oh, well, don't do it anymore." That's when I really gave up on her. She didn't see that I need help, her help, my Mother's help and support. You know who got me to stop cutting? My friends from the wedding. Bird, Kat, Midget, all of them. They were the support that I needed from Mom. The scars are still there and part of the reason I want half sleeve tattoos is to cover them up with better memories (tattoos for the kid[s]). That turned out to be longer than expected. I know you had your own issues from that time to deal with; I haven't really told too many people about mine. Patrick knows (obviously) and I mentioned a few things to Dee and a select few close friends.
Bubbles wrote:
November 20, 2007 - I didn't realize that it was that bad. I don't remember telling you mom had died. I guess neither one of us really enjoyed being a kid. You remember a lot more than I do. I don't remember mom hitting you in the chest, I thought it was across the back and she felt really bad about it afterwards and you were laying on your stomach on the couch with ice on your back. Maybe that was a different time. Trust me, I don't know my dad either. He never asked me for help with anything, he barely talked to me. He still barely talks to me. He said more to Jaden than to me the last time I saw him. I gave up on him when I think I was 12. He was putting in the sprinklers in the front yard and I tried to bond with him. He barely acknowledged I was there. Mom probably should have been on anti depressants when we lived in Utah, it would have made things a lot easier on everyone. I'm sorry it was so hard for you.
I wrote:
November 20, 2007 - I don't even remember her hitting me in the back. Wow. I never really thought it was that bad for either of us; since we've gotten older and had a chance to talk to each other more, I guess we've realized there was a helluva lot more going on with the other than we thought. It is good to get it out though. Pat still really hasn't talked to him much either. I mean, he could have at the rehearsal dinner, but he got stuck on the grill all night.And that was it.
I could have started cutting when I was going through all of that wonderful bullshit when we lived in Utah, yet I did not. I keep wondering why; it's not like anybody would have noticed then. Oh yeah, I've recently joined a group on CafeMom.com for Cutters (current and recovering) and posted in "parts" journals I'd posted in 2002 about when I did cut, to get my story out there. It felt a little better, though sometimes I feel like I am my own trigger sometimes.
I wrote:
November 18, 2007 - Still not sure what's going on inside my head. One day, I want to talk to somebody and the next, I think it's a dumb idea my sub-conscious came up with for attention. I'm still not sure what I'm going to do; I was so upset on Saturday (four of our friends Chris & Liz and Aaron & Cathy had cancelled [for legit reasons]). I had looked over those who hadn't responded and just lost it. I did two very nasty sounding bulletins on MySpace (that's how I got the word out to most everyone) after seeing that the majority of the folks I'd sent invitations to, hadn't even said Maybe (which I would have been fine with). That was the last straw; I promptly went upstairs, closed the door to my bedroom and sobbed. I know it was something minor but I feel that it really didn't help my state of mind, considering where it had been the previous days. When he [Patrick] didn't see me, he got the same feeling he did a few years ago, when he found me in a closet (in our place in IB). I'd gotten really depressed and didn't know what to do. So, I crawled into our closet, closed the door and cried myself to sleep. I knew he was a keeper when he found me and talked to me saying, "I'll stay up until 3am if I have to, to make sure you're okay. Start talking." Any previous relationships wouldn't have done that (except the one I was afraid of committing to; you never met him).
Bubbles wrote:
November 19, 2007 - I think you need to go see someone. It may not be post partum depression. maybe you're just depressed. It does run in the family, from Grandma down at least. I think it would help you a lot to talk to someone. Even if it is just to get things off your chest, and I don't think that person is anyone in the family. I wish I could help you. Love you.
I wrote:
November 19, 2007 - It seems so silly though (once I sit and think about it). I know it may be frustrating for you, hearing me go on and on, saying I want to go talk to somebody and then just change my mind the next day because I thought about it more.. thinking it's a stupid reason to talk to someone; or that I think I just may be blowing things out of proportion. I'm glad I recognized it now as opposed to being in denial about it for years. I wish you could help too. When I broke down a few years ago, most of it stemmed from issues I had with me, Mom and you. I got it off my chest with Patrick then; sometimes they resurface, but very rarely. I just don't want to be labeled in the category, you know? I'm also afraid that if/when I go (and I told Pat what I told you and he said that he'd drag me there if it comes down to it), and they give me meds, my drive will dwindle even more (I know you don't want to hear about that, but it's a fear I have). My drive is lacking enough as it is, I don't need something to make it worse. I really appreciate your support in this; it helps. A lot. Love you too.
Bubbles wrote:
November 19, 2007 - What issues did you have with me? And don't worry, if you really need to talk about something never forget that you're my sister. We're family, and you don't turn your back on family. My drive died last year, Jaden told me about it a couple of months ago.
I wrote:
November 19, 2007 - The issues, I guess, were mostly academically based. You were the rebel of the two of us, yet you got better grades, therefore shone brigther in front of Mom. I also felt kind of outcast because, without me in the picture, you guys were a "full" family and I barely even knew my own dad. I remember one time, we were in the kitchen (Utah) and we were bickering about something. Grandma Faye had sent us those gold heart necklaces for Christmas; mine was an outline and yours was solid. You told me that Grandma Faye loved you more because your heart was whole and mine wasn't. There was also that time in junior high school that I told you about the other day. I asked you if you knew where Mom was (it was after school, I think). You looked me straight in the eye and said she died in a car crash; you then walked off non-chalantly about the whole thing. I should have picked up on it then, but you know how naive I was then. And I'll admit, I still am a bit now. I always felt I was in your shadow. I was envious of you for a long time. The ONE time I decided to rebel, Mom popped off with (and I quote), "I don't need another 'Amber'!" At that time you were extremely rebellious; you and Tanya were hanging out a lot. I was also pissed off that you'd stolen, not one, but two of my friends. Granted, I had others, but Tanya and Jaz were my friends first. I asked them later why they started hanging out with you more and they both said, "She's more fun than you." Broke my heart to hear that; I didn't realize that I was so boring. I could never match you in anything. I felt you were Mom and Dad's "Golden Child" who could do no wrong, no matter how rebellious she got; she had good grades so it made up for everything. I felt they let you get away with just about everything you did, yet I got it a lot. Mom hit me once. She was yelling at me in the kitchen because I hadn't cleaned my room. I wasn't saying anything; my face was emotionless (as it normally got when I was yelled at; I'd get paralyzed from the neck down). She got more pissed so she punched me in the chest, knocking the wind out of me. She then proceeded to punch a hole in the wall (near the thermostat), stormed to my room downstairs (still had the pink room) and ripped apart the first thing she saw; this happened to be my FAVORITE book (Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry). She replaced it years later but I never forgave her for it. I told her about it some time ago and I don't think she even remembered the events of that night. I don't think she remembers hitting me (close-fisted; it was a punch/hit not a smack or a slap). She had a look of horror on her face when I told her; at least, that's how I remember it. I know I wasn't the best kid but still... you don't punch your child, no matter how pissed off you get. If anything, you leave the room so as not to hurt your child. I also felt that you and Mom always had a better connection because you're both the "youngest" sibling. I realize that happens with just about any family, but at the time, it hurt pretty bad. I felt Mom favored you a lot; I'm pretty sure Dad did too. You were his; I wasn't. I needed his attention. I needed to know that he wanted me around instead of telling me that I was a "...fuck-up bum." I felt as though there was a lot of psychological abuse on his part. He's a big reason why I rarely ever had confidence in myself to do things. He already knew I was going to fail. When I was in "A" school, I was telling Mom about APP (or whatever it was) and getting Honors. When I was home on leave and didn't have anything to show for it (I actually barely came out with a rating.. I got a 70-something) he asked me where the hell was it. I know I've fucked up (a lot) the last several years; the car was the last straw. That was the incident that prompted the "...fuck-up bum." I don't think that man every had a single ounce of genuine confidence in me whatsoever. That was when my cutting was at its worst; I did about 30 in one night (this was after the accident). Though, come to find out later, that it was Mom's idea, not his, for me to leave the house. He wanted me to stay (something about he didn't think I was ready or something); Mom told me this a few years ago. I know he wasn't raised in a super home, but I would hope that he'd have picked up on something from Mom. I don't know. I realize that I don't know everything to do with his childhood, but I'd like to be able to understand. I still have confidence issues because of his lack of confidence in me. He told me once that he had to sit and THINK about asking me to help him with something (Utah), because he knew that I'd fuck it up somehow; this was when he was trying to run copper wiring from the basement to the roof. I was doing it how he showed me and it got kinked. He got pissed and said, "I knew I shouldn't have asked you to help me." How do you say that to a kid?! That was when he told me he had to think about getting me to help him. Oh! Yeah, that summer you and Bryan came out, when the accident happened and I started cutting... I tried crying out for help to Mom. The first time, I was watching a tv movie on USA called "Secret Cutters" and watching it very intently. Mom came in, said, "Well, this is depressing; let's watch something else." To which I said, "Fine," and went downstairs to watch it. Later, she saw the cuts on my arms. I didn't hear, "Oh my God what happened? Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?" No, I heard, "Why are you doing that?" "I'm depressed and upset." "Oh, well, don't do it anymore." That's when I really gave up on her. She didn't see that I need help, her help, my Mother's help and support. You know who got me to stop cutting? My friends from the wedding. Bird, Kat, Midget, all of them. They were the support that I needed from Mom. The scars are still there and part of the reason I want half sleeve tattoos is to cover them up with better memories (tattoos for the kid[s]). That turned out to be longer than expected. I know you had your own issues from that time to deal with; I haven't really told too many people about mine. Patrick knows (obviously) and I mentioned a few things to Dee and a select few close friends.
Bubbles wrote:
November 20, 2007 - I didn't realize that it was that bad. I don't remember telling you mom had died. I guess neither one of us really enjoyed being a kid. You remember a lot more than I do. I don't remember mom hitting you in the chest, I thought it was across the back and she felt really bad about it afterwards and you were laying on your stomach on the couch with ice on your back. Maybe that was a different time. Trust me, I don't know my dad either. He never asked me for help with anything, he barely talked to me. He still barely talks to me. He said more to Jaden than to me the last time I saw him. I gave up on him when I think I was 12. He was putting in the sprinklers in the front yard and I tried to bond with him. He barely acknowledged I was there. Mom probably should have been on anti depressants when we lived in Utah, it would have made things a lot easier on everyone. I'm sorry it was so hard for you.
I wrote:
November 20, 2007 - I don't even remember her hitting me in the back. Wow. I never really thought it was that bad for either of us; since we've gotten older and had a chance to talk to each other more, I guess we've realized there was a helluva lot more going on with the other than we thought. It is good to get it out though. Pat still really hasn't talked to him much either. I mean, he could have at the rehearsal dinner, but he got stuck on the grill all night.And that was it.
I could have started cutting when I was going through all of that wonderful bullshit when we lived in Utah, yet I did not. I keep wondering why; it's not like anybody would have noticed then. Oh yeah, I've recently joined a group on CafeMom.com for Cutters (current and recovering) and posted in "parts" journals I'd posted in 2002 about when I did cut, to get my story out there. It felt a little better, though sometimes I feel like I am my own trigger sometimes.
I defenitely can empathaize with how you feel. I struggled with depression and cutting my whole adolecent years and you remember Chris...that was probably something that screwed me up for life.
ReplyDeleteBut, I love you and I'm glad you're starting to work through this. Thanks for the comment on my journal, I know those people in my life were not worth the effort.
Growing up and changing is a lot of work and some heartache, but you really get a strong sense of who you are and who is really important to you.
Let me know if you need ANYTHING through this, I've been there and I know how critical it is to have the right support.