Sibling Love

You are such a phoney.

You jump on the band wagon so people will look at you.

This is your latest cause.

What a bullshitter you are.

I listened to my sister, my only living family member, tell me that she thought I was a false person.

She doesn't know me. She doesn't believe me.

A wave came up my neck and my lips went numb as I softly uttered the words, I think you should leave my house now.

She jumped and cackled and screeched in my face.

I knew it! I knew you would do this! She laughed in a sinister way and humped past me into the next room where her suitcases and belongings lay strewn across the room. Screaming.  Hollering about what a horrible fake person I am and that she had predicted I would do this to her.

I tried to take back the words, but she vitriolically refused to consider that possibility.  She continued to tell me who I am. And that she hates me, and has always hated me.

I know, I replied.

She left the room to get some things and start to dress.

Fait accompli, thought I. So I began zipping her luggage and carrying it outside to her car. It was minus sixteen.

This escalated her fury, but hastening the departure would shrink the tirade. This I knew. There was no discussion to be had.

She resisted my efforts to remove her possessions from my house, verbally and physically, but I continued anyway. This made her hate me more. She dressed in the porch – probably minus ten out there. Not very nice of me, but she had by now refused to come in. And I didn't care.

She had told me she had no cash, so I gave her twenty dollars for gasoline. She accepted this.

I removed her dog's bed and other paraphernalia as well. Load after load, boxes, tote bins bags. I just kept carrying them to the car until there was nothing left in my house. She tried to prevent me from carrying things from the porch to the car, and we had a comical wrestling match by the door as she kicked and pulled hair and flailed her arms and screamed until she ran out of steam. Then I continued until there was nothing left in the house. By then, she had her coat on and had begun loading her car.

Outside, she was still screaming her hatred at me. She screamed how pathetic I am. How I deserve to be isolated.

I said several times that I would like to take the words back, but she seemed to relish that they had left my lips. She never once considered taking back any of the words she spewed forth my way. Neither the words before, nor after my having asked her to leave. I guess she believes them to be truth. I told her I was sorry. She was wild and screeching. I asked her why so loud, and she laughed, saying she wanted my neighbours to know the kind of person I am.

There was nobody around and I don't care what people think of me. She doesn't realize that. She thinks, what people think of me, is the most important thing in my life. How could she think that? That every motive I possess is grounded in a desire for other people to think I'm great, in some way. She really does hate me, and she really does not know me.

I was sad, and disappointed about this. I sent her an email telling her that I do not want to remain estranged. I also listed four items I found after her departure: cigarettes, lighter, glasses, and hat. I will deliver them to her friend's house tomorrow.

Now it is a few days passed. I feel a strange euphoria, mixed with sorrow. I am no good to her. I can not serve my sister any more, in any way. I believe I am a good and honest person and I want the world to be a better place, but she thinks I'm an opportunistic phoney that only wants to show off.

I can still distinctly feel the numbness that crossed my lips as I uttered the words asking her to leave my house.

I have lived alone for twelve years and am just not accustomed to people hurling insults at me, anywhere, let-alone in my home. The words came out of me softly and slowly, like they were issued from another world.

Now, as I type, tears have welled. The thought that my Mom was guiding me when I asked my sister to leave has crossed my mind more than once.

I live a peaceful quiet life. Sometimes, I suffer mental problems stemming from ideas that whirl out of proportion and manifest emotional reactions. I have good cognitive techniques that I use to harbour these feelings and recognize that they are driven by my thinking processes. I don't go out of bounds anymore. Sometimes I talk to a friend about the thoughts, but usually within a day or two, I am back on stable ground and happy. I work to maintain good physical and mental health.

My sister has many problems. Many. And by resisting her bullying, I may have exacerbated her troubled life. But I will hold onto the supernatural. The words came slowly and calmly from somewhere deep. Very deep.

I remain sorry. I do not want to remain estranged. But also, I feel strong for having stood up to her. I am not who she tried to make me believe I am. I will never be that person, and I have never been that person. She has never known me, though she has hated me all her life. This I do believe. The hatred is within her. I can not make it go away.