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Le sigh...
Jul. 13th, 2003 08:21 pmWell, it's Sunday. It doesn't feel like Sunday, but it is, and it will be Sunday again a week from now, only THAT Sunday I won't like so much as this one-- or am I setting myself up for not liking it? See, I'm pretty sure Jonathan's left on his backpacking thing already-- I thought "Hey, 7 days 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20-- that's 7 days! But then 13+7=20..." So essentially, my math sucks, and regardless of whether Jonathan left today or leaves tomorrow, there's a nil chance at this point that I'll get to see (or even talk to) him beforehand. Even if I could just say something silly and weird, like "Have fun, and be careful." Because this time of year, and anytime someone I care about goes traipsing around, calling it "hiking" or whatever, I have to tell them to be careful.
Mom's been pissing me off a lot lately, you guys all know that, but she's been nicer these past few days. Still, I'm kinda bummed she's not spending any time at home. I don't know why that would make a difference anyway, since we don't have much of a relationship, really. I mean, she would just be in her room doing whatever it is she does in there, with the door locked, the window open, and candles lit (can those of you who know me best guess?). And I'd be parked in front of the computer or the TV, sulking, or complaining, in a manner of speaking, like I am now.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't appreciate her. I've felt terrible about everything she has to go through, moneywise and otherwise, just to keep the roof over our heads. And we have a lot of stuff, so I can't complain about lacking of anything. But I make big deals about this slow computer, about not having cable like my friends, or not having DSL or the latest DVDs. I keep forgetting that my mom's been through so much, she deserves to have some chill time... still, it just bugs me that she never confides in me about anything (maybe if she did, I justify, I would too!) and seems to spend more time with Helena and Gary than she does with me. But then, Mom's an adult, I am not. She wants to have a relationship, let her, I want one too! And Helena's going through her own troubles, so... my mom can help her out. It's just, July's never easy for either of us.
My problem is, I always set myself up to be all sunk-in and quiet, sulking. That's bad. 7 years ago next Sunday, my older half-sister Michelle died. She was "hiking" over by Land's End here in San Francisco, an unfenced area by the ocean. She fell 200 feet and broke her neck. I'd been spending the weekend with my Dad and his girlfriend up north in Petaluma. I hadn't even told my sister I loved her before we left that same day.
I was a bitch throughout middle school because of it, but can I really BLAME anyone for the way my attitude was back then? I'd like to think I've grown and moved on, but part of me is still stuck on the fact that I no longer have a sister, someone I can really, truly turn to about anything and everything. All the stuff I've been through lately, and now... well, all that's really "left" of Michelle is an urn sitting on the piano.
I hate it.
The dining room seems like a shrine to her, and part of me is still so angry with mom for not being able to let go. But I can't either, again, so why should she? People aren't meant to be forgotten and wiped from your lives like that. And mom's already been through so much in the past several years-- she lost her dad years ago, lost her mom and her one of her sisters, lost her husband before Michelle was even born... so I'm all that's left, and I don't feel like I can "do my job" right, if I'm even trying as hard as I should.
I make it a point to try and let mom know that I'm there for her, but it always seems like a temporary thing, where she'll find comfort and "family" with someone else. We never have fun like we used to-- ever since Michelle died, neither of us are the same, and we're not really a family anymore. And it seems like she keeps trying to get rid of me, because she's finally come face to face with the fact that I'm NOT Michelle, I'm NOT going to a Private Art school, I'm not employed, and I'm not tall, perfect, and beautiful. I'm not the firstborn, I'm not the child that's the result of a happy, love-filled marriage that ended too soon because of circumstances beyond our control. No, the reason why Michelle didn't have a dad was because he died before she was born-- in an accident. Me? Mom met my dad, and they had some sort of fling that resulted in ME. They got married and all, but I don't seem to remember ever having a "Mom and Dad" at the same time, in the same place. They were divorced before I really knew what that meant, and now they pretty much hate each other. That causes an even bigfer rift in the relationship between all of us, because I hate it when they act like 12-year-olds, always telling *me* what's so horrible about the other person, like I'm supposed to agree with them, and CHOOSE.
So this is my big muddled entry. Next Sunday, I'm going to Land's End, whether anyone comes with me or not. I hope that Jonathan is back in town by then-- he's coming back on the 20th, but he doesn't know when in the day. And I don't know whether Eva wants to come with me, or what I'd think if she did. Somehow I envision I'd be a pretty different person than what people know me as.
I decided back in middle school that crying was a weakness. And now, I read something that rings true-- why do we cry? All it does is show emotion to others, and sometimes not even well. People don't always believe you when you cry. And you can cry when you're happy OR sad. And everyone's different, so someone else's tears might not mean a thing to you. So why do humans cry-- it serves no purpose, it doesn't get rid of the pain.
So why do I set myself up as a weakling by going to Land's End over and over, stating the obvious-- I don't have a sister anymore. I haven't for 7 years now, and I'm just not over it, like I feel I should be. Mom and I have been dealing with this in our own different ways.
So what's going to happen next Sunday? I don't know. Sometime in the day, I'm going to get up off my lazy butt, go to Land's End, and just be there. For the first time in 7 years too, because all the other times I thought I was at Land's End, I really wasn't. And part of me knew it, too, because it's never felt the same. As of next Sunday, life will be a test for me. If I'll survive the next year, if I'll be able to really follow my dreams, if I'll be able to stay alive.
My sister was 19 when she died.
Will I last any longer?
Mom's been pissing me off a lot lately, you guys all know that, but she's been nicer these past few days. Still, I'm kinda bummed she's not spending any time at home. I don't know why that would make a difference anyway, since we don't have much of a relationship, really. I mean, she would just be in her room doing whatever it is she does in there, with the door locked, the window open, and candles lit (can those of you who know me best guess?). And I'd be parked in front of the computer or the TV, sulking, or complaining, in a manner of speaking, like I am now.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't appreciate her. I've felt terrible about everything she has to go through, moneywise and otherwise, just to keep the roof over our heads. And we have a lot of stuff, so I can't complain about lacking of anything. But I make big deals about this slow computer, about not having cable like my friends, or not having DSL or the latest DVDs. I keep forgetting that my mom's been through so much, she deserves to have some chill time... still, it just bugs me that she never confides in me about anything (maybe if she did, I justify, I would too!) and seems to spend more time with Helena and Gary than she does with me. But then, Mom's an adult, I am not. She wants to have a relationship, let her, I want one too! And Helena's going through her own troubles, so... my mom can help her out. It's just, July's never easy for either of us.
My problem is, I always set myself up to be all sunk-in and quiet, sulking. That's bad. 7 years ago next Sunday, my older half-sister Michelle died. She was "hiking" over by Land's End here in San Francisco, an unfenced area by the ocean. She fell 200 feet and broke her neck. I'd been spending the weekend with my Dad and his girlfriend up north in Petaluma. I hadn't even told my sister I loved her before we left that same day.
I was a bitch throughout middle school because of it, but can I really BLAME anyone for the way my attitude was back then? I'd like to think I've grown and moved on, but part of me is still stuck on the fact that I no longer have a sister, someone I can really, truly turn to about anything and everything. All the stuff I've been through lately, and now... well, all that's really "left" of Michelle is an urn sitting on the piano.
I hate it.
The dining room seems like a shrine to her, and part of me is still so angry with mom for not being able to let go. But I can't either, again, so why should she? People aren't meant to be forgotten and wiped from your lives like that. And mom's already been through so much in the past several years-- she lost her dad years ago, lost her mom and her one of her sisters, lost her husband before Michelle was even born... so I'm all that's left, and I don't feel like I can "do my job" right, if I'm even trying as hard as I should.
I make it a point to try and let mom know that I'm there for her, but it always seems like a temporary thing, where she'll find comfort and "family" with someone else. We never have fun like we used to-- ever since Michelle died, neither of us are the same, and we're not really a family anymore. And it seems like she keeps trying to get rid of me, because she's finally come face to face with the fact that I'm NOT Michelle, I'm NOT going to a Private Art school, I'm not employed, and I'm not tall, perfect, and beautiful. I'm not the firstborn, I'm not the child that's the result of a happy, love-filled marriage that ended too soon because of circumstances beyond our control. No, the reason why Michelle didn't have a dad was because he died before she was born-- in an accident. Me? Mom met my dad, and they had some sort of fling that resulted in ME. They got married and all, but I don't seem to remember ever having a "Mom and Dad" at the same time, in the same place. They were divorced before I really knew what that meant, and now they pretty much hate each other. That causes an even bigfer rift in the relationship between all of us, because I hate it when they act like 12-year-olds, always telling *me* what's so horrible about the other person, like I'm supposed to agree with them, and CHOOSE.
So this is my big muddled entry. Next Sunday, I'm going to Land's End, whether anyone comes with me or not. I hope that Jonathan is back in town by then-- he's coming back on the 20th, but he doesn't know when in the day. And I don't know whether Eva wants to come with me, or what I'd think if she did. Somehow I envision I'd be a pretty different person than what people know me as.
I decided back in middle school that crying was a weakness. And now, I read something that rings true-- why do we cry? All it does is show emotion to others, and sometimes not even well. People don't always believe you when you cry. And you can cry when you're happy OR sad. And everyone's different, so someone else's tears might not mean a thing to you. So why do humans cry-- it serves no purpose, it doesn't get rid of the pain.
So why do I set myself up as a weakling by going to Land's End over and over, stating the obvious-- I don't have a sister anymore. I haven't for 7 years now, and I'm just not over it, like I feel I should be. Mom and I have been dealing with this in our own different ways.
So what's going to happen next Sunday? I don't know. Sometime in the day, I'm going to get up off my lazy butt, go to Land's End, and just be there. For the first time in 7 years too, because all the other times I thought I was at Land's End, I really wasn't. And part of me knew it, too, because it's never felt the same. As of next Sunday, life will be a test for me. If I'll survive the next year, if I'll be able to really follow my dreams, if I'll be able to stay alive.
My sister was 19 when she died.
Will I last any longer?
