sevenhelz

I dreamt my sister texted me like nothing was wrong between us. I was unsure whether I was dreaming so I kept trying to check the messages again but I couldn't quite wake up and do it, and she kept texting me again as I was trying to check the old ones were real. I've been feeling guilty about being in touch with D and H and J so much (although logically there is no reason why she should own a certain set of friends, or why there could only be room in their hearts for one of us), and about being in London and not letting her know, and I've been imagining altercations with her, and it was so confusingly nice to have a reprieve from that and now I'm sad.

We were at the top of Castle Hill when my younger older brother rang her and I heard her voice, and realised I missed her. I miss the kind of friends we could've been, if I'd sorted my head out to this extent while she still wanted to know me. I'm miserable not knowing what she thinks about me, about us. And I've been through feeling guilt, and fear, and anger at her, and pity (which I know she would hate), and sheer anxiety, and come out of it feeling love. As much as ever. And maybe that's because of where I am now, in love with life and with my (admittedly quite recent) partner, but maybe where I am now is because of going back in my head through a lifelong relationship and working out how I really feel about somebody, and how that's affected my interaction with them. It's trite, but there's a sister-shaped hole in my life. I don't know if that can ever be resolved; and I don't know if she'll ever be able to believe how honest a person I really try to be. Sure, I can make words sound beautiful to the point where it seems more like poetry than truth, but I just like words. I like poetic language; phrasing something pleasantly makes it seems clearer and more right to me, more like myself. A language of my own I suppose.

When I stumble in communication (in any situation, though I'm thinking particularly of when we argued and I was so shocked by some of the conclusions that she drew that I literally had no argument to present and I think, to her, seemed to be silently supporting those conclusions) it's because I can't find the right words to present my thoughts both correctly and in a way that I know others will understand. In my own head I use so many mingled or loaded terms, and I'm never entirely certain that the connotations I mean to imply are clear to others. And I'm never clear how loaded the terms I end up using are to other people. An example; my sister pointed out that we were young carers, shortly after I'd been looking at a paid position helping young carers to have a social life (thus giving me images of kids having to do a lot more for their families than we did, in an unenviable and perhaps gruelling domestic situation) and it made sense of a lot of the anger and other feelings I used to have about our home life when we were young (I had always felt that my sister had the worst of it, and still do, but now I can accept that some of our negative thought patterns are due to our mothers disability as well - it took varying amounts of time to make us stronger, shall we say). When I mentioned the same term to a friend R, whose mother has had M.S. longer than ours has had M.E., it meant nothing to him; and that surprised me, because I had assumed the connotations were universal. After that I was more careful, most of the time.

So what's my point, again? I have felt, ever since I found that my sister didn't or couldn't believe that I hadn't arranged something immensely tactless with D, unjustly judged (and that isn't quite the right term, isn't strong enough for how shocked/resentful/angry/hurt/misunderstood/undermined it made me, but it'll have to do because I can't find the exact word; I'm not certain there is one loaded enough). My sister said at a separate point during our argumentative weekend that she didn't feel like I knew who I was. I do, and I am more honest a person than she could know. I am more open and strong and capable than she could know, because I threw it away around her, because I was afraid of her (simply put). Now that I haven't heard from her in months, I have sorted through my thoughts, I am less afraid and I am more certain of my own strength. Yet I am still wary of posting this openly so that the whole world can read it; if she were to think it was arrogant posturing and/or bullshitting to deceive and manipulate her (and she has assumed this of me before), I would be crushed. A little, at least. I would also be overwhelmingly angry. I'm not sure if I can deal with all of that emotion when there is so much to be done and enjoyed here. On the other hand, I'm not sure I can continue to deal with a complete lack of communication, of bounce-off.

Please note that the author's views and emotions are open to change (yes I'm writing a disclaimer, and self-mockingly imitating that style; now that that's absolutely crystal clear). I write to help understand my own thoughts, and any difference of opinion expressed at other times is an equally honest account of what I'm thinking/feeling at that moment. I grow and change, as does the rest of the world around me.

Fuck it. I've been through and removed all the names; now I'll take the plunge and press post. I wouldn't feel the same about myself if I didn't post, even if I intended to edit and repost. She'll probably never read it anyway
*stops procrastinating*