It is impossible to expect an unreasonable person to understand reason. It’s impossible to expect a person who doesn’t want a ceasefire to stop shooting. And it is impossible to clear up a lie if a person depends on the lie like air and water.
It’s hard not to respond to my sister’s comments. It’s hard not to correct what I see as wrong. As she said a few days ago, she didn’t even try to be my friend until we hit high school and that for just a little while. I meant nothing to her except to be a body for her to abuse. I took it too, because I thought I could win her over. Now I just think, wow, how dark a period of life that was. My life could have a heavier cloud now if I were to put myself in the position of accepting her abuse with the hopes of winning her over.Â This time she’s ‘only’ using abusive words, horrible ones that claim I caused the death of our mother. The way my mother died was horrible. It was absolutely heart breaking and horrific, but no fault of mine.
I’m not a punching bag for anyone, at all. If my sister wants a pain free relationship where we don’t throw stones, where all flame throwers are turned off, then I am open to it. I am not a punching bag …and, my name is FAITH, even if she refuses to recognize it. How is it that we could have so many conversations and not once did she use my name? Not once could she afford me that recognition as a human being. It is as cruel as it was when I was a child and she refused to use my name. She’d just start talking to me, no name, a nothing. I do not have to put myself in a position to be stabbed all over for someone else’s need to abuse.
I will only respond to emails that aren’t vicious. I will not take phone calls from her. I will not be the little girl I used to be, who thought she was worth trading myself to gain. There is no reason to set myself up for pain, there isn’t one.
Other than my mother, I can’t think of a single person who has hated me more than my sister. At least my mother used a name when speaking to me. She’d call me Jade, Star, Africa, Little Duck :-). My name changed all the time. My mother called me something, even if the word was foul, she at least called me something. My sister couldn’t even give me that. I feel …cheated!
To hear that I am not her sister, that I’m not in her bloodline, I am not needed, on and on…….those things aren’t new. It’s not new…..I am though. Not only did I choose a name for myself but I chose a way I wish to live with a set of values I chose. Those values tell me that I help my fellow man but they also tell me I do not have to be a punching bag. My new self says I can and should remove myself from the line of her fire and be as productive as possible. My new self values dignity, work, community service and faith. My new self knows its okay to look in the rear view mirror but to turn around and stay looking in the past or living in it means death. You can’t see where to drive if you’re turned around looking in the past. You’ll never see the dangers ahead or the beauty ahead if you’re not facing forward. If you don’t look in the rear view mirror you won’t see how life has progressed or see how to better avoid pitfalls. It’s not wrong to process our past, it’s not. Nor is it wrong to get out of the street before getting mowed over by a reckless driver.