Thursday, May. 06, 2004
I'm wearing a skirt for the second day in a row. I think that might be a sign of the apocolypse.
Last weekend, I surprised my mom and went to Chicago for her birthday. She wouldn't stop hugging me - she was so surprised. It was great. Mom is usually the one that does the surprising. I miss her like crazy. We had a great time until my sister had a meltdown the second night I was there, which led to me having a meltdown. Nothing makes me as angry as Tiff does. I literally see red when she starts talking to Mom like that.
I am really fighting a lot of guilt on this issue. I know that my sister is bipolar. I know what that means. Hell, I want(ed?) to be a psychologist. I can sit and rationally explain all kinds of mental illness, including my own. And yet when Tiff starts up, it's like someone presses a button in my brain. If given the opportunity, I honestly think I would beat the shit out of her. And that scares me. Lord knows, she tried it on me often enough when we were kids, and I never fought back because she was six years younger - it wouldn't be fair. Fair is not a concept that Tiff understands.
Some of Tiff's favorite things to tell Mom:
- Mom is a liar, always lies
- Mom needs to fuck off
- That she was going to burn the house down around their heads
- Mom is a bitch, and other creative permutations on this theme
- That she doesn't drink (wrong), has never done drugs (wrong), and has never had sex (wrong)
This is fairly innocuous when I write it out, but it's her tone of voice that is the kicker. That horrid, "you are worth nothing to me" voice that makes me want to wring her neck. She has no idea what she has. She has kicked a hole in her door because Mom wouldn't buy her a new pair of jeans. She's failing classes because she doesn't want to do her work, yet she expects to be given a car. (I bought my own and am damn proud of it, thanks.) It never, ever ends.
My mom isn't perfect, but she would do anything for us. Tiff treats her like shit. It's as if Mom bends down to wash her feet, and Tiff kicks dog shit in her face.
I should be more understanding. I should. But I just can't. Not yet. The best thing for me to do is just not have anything to do with her. The fact that, for some unknown reason, she idolizes me just makes it worse. I love her, and yet I can't stand to be around her.
I read a book about "normal" siblings that helped a lot. (Not that I'm normal, lol!) The author is a psychotherapist who can still barely acknowledge her own brother. Her story, as well as some others, made me at least see that I'm not the only one who's felt this way, and that I'm not as horrible a person as I think I am.
I get to go home now. Yay.
~Emma
--->Comment allez-vous?<---
break this - Tuesday, Mar. 01, 2005
long time no post - Monday, Feb. 28, 2005
give me a little credit - Thursday, Nov. 18, 2004
blink-free - Thursday, Oct. 28, 2004
end of days - Thursday, Oct. 14, 2004
