I just don’t know how to deal with “the stuff”. I don’t know how to handle the pain it causes when I have to touch it and look at it. Why do I hold on to stuff that was given to me or hand made for me when they liked me? Do I give it back? Sell it? throw it away or keep it to remind myself how awful I am to them? I hate Christmas time and holidays in general because this seems to be the saddest for me.
My mom is gone and I can’t seem to get over it and all of my sisters hate me for what ever reason because I am the most rotten of rotten. When did I become so damned bad?
Recently found out that one sister told family members that if I showed up for a family Thanksgiving dinner, she would not. My self esteem could not get any lower (well yes it can) but really? This is the same one who “de-friended” a relative because she dared to mention my name! I must be the most rotten of rotten. So we didn’t go, I did not want to cause waves or problems so we spent it at home with no one and kept to ourselves. She did this out of spite, would she not know I would find out? Have they always been so mean-spirited? Is it because I stopped being her “yes” girl? Standing up and staying I am un-happy is a bad thing?
So I will hang those pretty needle points and keep the used tags (like from and with love) for a reminder of when I was wanted and loved. And I need to keep telling myself I am a good person!
Inside I know I am a good person. I am not perfect and I am not mean.
I feel mostly sorry for my son, from the time when he was 12ish and he asked me what had he done to make his aunts not like him anymore to more recently when I watched him in the hospital and no one was bringing him balloons with the goofy get well sack. All because of me.
It is such a shame that none of the “aunts” want anything to do with him, he is a great kid and all of them are missing out on being around one of the coolest kids ever. But is it really a shame, would they use him too? Only to find out later in life that he was only used. I guess it’s a good thing they are all gone now….But the one sister.
The hate she has for me is so strong that I can’t shake it, it hovers over me and I am not even in her life. It’s like I am 8yrs old again and getting in her way.
Just like this one picture I have of us standing in front of the tree in our matching nightgowns. The space in between us shows me how much she couldn’t stand me. No arms around each other, no love. She is holding her doll away from me because she knows I will be tearing it up. I probably did. I surly don’t recall ever doing anything out of meanness. I was just a little kid and I am sorry she hated me, I still feel like that little kid and I am sorry she still hates me.
Merry FUCKING Christmas.
No ones little sister………