This is an entry I wrote up a week or more ago. It�s the entry I told you about a few days back. I just finally decided to actually transcribe it. Heh. Regardless, this is ... well, just read on if you so choose. More about the sister.

I�ve gotten out of the habit of writing. I�ve also gotten out of the habit of speaking in complete sentences. These two things are dangerous. Therefore, I�m going to attempt to rectify these specific items.

I�m sitting here at Chuck�s with my coffee and smokes. I�m having this nasty case of writer�s block. maybe it�s actually thinker�s block.

I have been listening to my sister a lot lately, and I think that she might be a large, albeit subtle, reason for my recent inability to communicate my thoughts and ideas. Another reason for my recent inability is the loss of my computer. This weekend marks the fourth week without the beast.

Regardless, the thing I want to focus on right now is the thought process/blockage derived from my sister. This may sound strange, but bear with me while I attempt to explain. My sister has a communication problem. When she speaks, her brain moves quickly, but without order. And here you would interject saying that this should come as no surprise to me as my brain works in a similar manner.

Similar, yes, but not same. My brain, too, works quickly. I often jump from thought to thought and my entries often reflect the fact that my mind is both tangential and digressive.

However, until recently, I have been able to complete my thoughts. Yes, often I speak in a confusing morass of ideas and thoughts; a strange and often disjointed amalgam. I have been able to conclude each thought, whether I was able to tie it in with everything else (or anything, for that matter) notwithstanding. I have long been able to actually complete the thought.

When my sister talks and/or writes, her thoughts come out in a bizarre mosaic. I would say her speech is a collage, but with a collage, most generally one can actually see what the �big picture� is supposed to be. My sister�s communication comes out as if someone took a page from a book, put it through a shredder, then dropped it upon a table and left it for someone to read.

For an example, see if you can interpret this:

I talked with him and--
It hurts so--
Well, you know.
Yells-- so mean, and--
Well-- you know what he--
and--
I just can�t--

Do you have any idea what that means? That little bit is about five minutes worth of conversation with her. There are many little sighs, sounds, wails (no lie, actual wailing) and unintelligible mutterings which quickly slide into tears and then abrupt end to the tears.

Through the years I�ve spent listening to her, I can interpret what she means. The following is my interpretation of what she means by the above five minutes worth of conversation. (in which I say, �Uh huh. I understand. Hmmmm�)

I talked with him and--

She had a phone conversation with her ex (my brother) and he said something which offended her in some way. ---This happens about three times a month, more if he calls more often.---

It hurts so--

Her heart is being ripped out of her chest yet again. Whatever he said has reminded her that her life has not turned out the way she thought it would. Once again, she feels as if she is being abused by life and the circumstances in which she finds herself. There is pain rippling through her mind and body and she believes it�s his fault.

Well, you know--

Every wound my brother has ever inflicted upon her has resurfaced in her mind. This resurfacing has brought with it many of the painful memories from her youth. The part I supposedly know is how terrible my brother was to her; how rotten, mean and violent he was and still is. Her pain is so huge, she can�t function normally. ---And yet, her life/mentality is such that she doesn�t feel �normal� unless there is some major, catastrophic drama going on. It�s like those people who drink or drug in order to feel �normal�. There are some out there who don�t feel �right� until they�re loaded. She doesn�t feel �right� unless there�s some major drama going on around her. Does she know this and accept it? Nope. Does she look into the mirror and see it? Nope. Would she accept and understand if I told her this? Absolutely not!

Yells-- so mean--

He has yelled and screamed in his frustration ---his coping mechanism of choice. He has no fuse. He�s fine and polite then BLAMO he has exploded. There isn�t really a mid-ground with him.--- He has screamed at her and made accusations which are designed to bludgeon the accusee into submission. And, she is helpless against him. She has no recourse. She is completely at his mercy.

---She doesn�t yet see that she actually has the power in the relationship. She is the custodial parent. She has the option of 1) not talking to him, 2) having someone else deliver and pick up the children for visitation and 3) ignoring his antics entirely. She doesn�t see these things, however. She sees only that she is helpless and has no recourse.

and--

This little word, as the tag on the above chopped phrase, is loaded with meaning. That tiny word means that there is so much pain and anguish inside her that she can�t breathe. She knows that it is unhealthy to be yelled at. She knows it is unhealthy to feel so worthless, helpless and useless. But, she doesn�t yet realize that SHE is able to choose how she reacts to his yelling and screaming. All she can see is that she is miserable. She doesn�t realize that she is the source of her own misery.

Well-- you know what he--

Since I grew up with him, experienced his attitudes, irritations and irrational moments (long as they were, they should be more than mere �moments�), I knew what he was like. Since I was there when he beat her, I would understand the grieving, the fear, the reactive pain. It means that since I had witnessed his violence, his ignorance and his abandoning his wife and children, I would understand how desperately painful her life was and how nasty knowing him has been. The �what he� part is all about the myriad different things he has done which she considers to be personal affronts. -- when he speaks politely to her, she thinks he�s coming on to her. When he screams, she thinks he hates her. Her whole life has been filled with people doing things TO her. *shrugs* --

I just can�t--

Somewhere inside her she knows that it is her own behavior which is causing so much pain in her life, but that thought/knowledge is so terrifying (terrifying because she has to admit that she�s not in control and that she isn�t as victimized as she wants to believe she is) that she can�t actually admit it. She buries that knowledge so deeply in her subconscious that it would take an army of West Virginia coal miners a month of Sundays to dig it out. She can�t put her own responsibility into words. If she admitted it, she would have to do something about it and she doesn�t have the foggiest idea what to do about it.

It�s terrifying for some to admit that the reason they�re in pain is because they were stupid. It is difficult for many in this world to admit that the shit they�re sitting in is their own doing.

It�s terrifying for some of us, specifically those of us who were raised in ultra-strict religious households, to admit being wrong. To admit being wrong/stupid was tantamount to sin. For us, my sister and I, there was so much pressure to be perfect. When we did something wrong, we were severely disciplined. It wasn�t necessarily a physical discipline. In my case, most often, it was a psychological and emotional discipline.

If we looked like we were about to do something wrong we were disciplined. It was preventative. When we did anything that hinted at being wrong, there was the instant threat of punishment. Therefore, we learned from near-infancy to do it right the first time. We watched though. We learned by example that it was more important to be seen as �right� (whether you are or not) than anything else.

---I personally believe that most people go through this process. I do not think this is particular to those raised in strict religious households. I think that most people in this world grow up knowing that they have to do stuff the right way or else. I just think that we, in our religious background, were a little more... intense about it. I think that most people grow out of that over-protective/must-be-right thing at an earlier age than I did.---

Throughout conversation with my sister, there is unintelligible wailing, tears and various sounds of helplessness and frustration. These various sounds et al are the evaporation of her limited conversational skills. The grief and remembered trauma hits her with the power of fresh pain; fresh blows and insults. She gets so completely enmeshed in the pain that she can�t see out.

It�s like someone trying to cancel out pain by causing pain in a different place. For instance, hitting one�s head against the wall in order to blot out the pain of a broken ankle. The problem is that now, the break has healed. Yet, every time there is even the faintest twinge in her ankle, so to speak, she hits her head against the wall to avoid the pain. Thus, she causes the pain. She dredges up memories of abandonment, betrayal, fear, loneliness and isolation wailing about how much it hurts when she, herself, is the one choosing to relive 6, 8, 10, 20, 30 year old pains and hurts.

Now, the way I see this whole scenario:

She left Southern California in the hopes that she could leave her problems behind her. She believed that she could start fresh, leaving her family, non-friends and memories behind. Thus, she would be able to completely start her life over again.

She was horny, and the guy she was interested in didn�t want the same things she did. He wanted an easy fuck. She wanted a life-long husband, lover, confidant and rescuer. --She believed she needed some commitment from this guy before she would sleep with him. It didn�t matter that he was nearly 15 years her senior. She was approximately 22 and he was nearly 40. -- So, she moved a thousand miles North and chose to pretend her past had never existed.

Within a month of her moving to Seattle she met my brother. The day she met him at church, she asked him how he was and he said, �I�m fucked.� She thought that was the most honest thing she�d ever heard. They went out that night and she glommed onto him. I don�t know if it was that first date, or if she waited for the second or even third, but within just a few dates, they were sleeping together.

She lost herself in the idea of a loving, devoted husband. She created an image of Dan that didn�t truly exist. She spent most of her time with him, pretending to be his wife. She cooked for him, cleaned for him, did his laundry and had sex with him. She did everything a wife would do without having the paper or ceremony to prove it.

One of the things she did not do is ask his family what he was like. She did not ask his friends about what kind of person he was. She did not ask about his relationship history. She believed him completely when he told her that he was abused and victimized throughout his life. She believed him when he said that no one had ever loved him and what he really wanted was a family of his very own.

---these things are true, to a degree. He was abused during his childhood. He was not victimized. He did want a family of his own, but he had been loved, so completely. He didn�t want the people who loved him. He makes a psychological case study all on his own.---

When I met her and spoke with her, I asked her why she was interested in my brother. I told her of his relationship history. I told her that he whined and complained and that when he was not happy with his life, he left it in the hopes that someone else, some other distraction would make his life better. She completely ignored everything I said. She rebuffed every comment I made with her own long-winded, partial conversations about how he was misunderstood; how he had changed. She stood up and defended him saying that he was entirely victimized and misunderstood by us (Mom, Dad and myself) and all the women he had been involved with throughout his life.

She believed, because she wanted to, that he had been victimized his whole life. Atop that, she really believed it when he said he wanted a family. She, like he, believed that if they could just build a family together, they would finally be complete and whole people.

---This is a very common belief in this world; both among adoptees and �natural born� children. It�s almost a societal phenomenon these days. My own theory is that the feeling of being incomplete comes from being in a loveless family... Well, there�s more to it than that, but I�ll save the religious components for another entry.---

She, being a partial person emotionally and mentally, met and bonded herself to him (my brother). It was a lot like super glue on her part. She was already primed and ready, and she was exhibiting no self control whatsoever. (this too is a common trait in people in their early twenties.)

I do not, for even half a second, mean to imply that I have lived a blameless life. Nor do I think I have gotten through this with no pain or mistakes. I have made many stupid choices in my life. I have also believed things which were wrong.

I am not now, nor have I ever been, an authority on living clean, nor do I hope to change my sister in any way. By looking at her life and choices, however, and in such an intimate manner, I can analyze my own life and hopefully learn a little faster. Perhaps I�ll even be able to learn without going through the pain my sister has experienced. I don�t ever want to go through the shit she�s gone through.

---I fully admit and state that my sister has had a lousy hand dealt her. IN fact, her hands have repeatedly been lousy. My comments in this entry are not pointed at how bad a job she�s doing in this thing we call life, but to indicate that 1) I don�t want to repeat her mistakes, and 2) she could change her perspective a little bit and discover a whole new world opening up before her. I don�t want to change her. The ideas, thoughts and �recovery� I mention in this entry are all things that she must do/come to on her own. If someone else gives her the answer key, she�s bound to repeat the lesson again and again. Besides, who am I to say that I know how she should live her life? It�s not my life, it�s hers.---

Anyway, one of the things I have learned through observation rather than experience is that single parenting is very difficult and not something I want to undertake. The single parent has virtually no outward support. When you�re frazzled and at wit�s end, there is no one around to give instant relief. It�s virtually impossible to make ends meet, and you don�t fit in with the social circles around you.

Through observation, I know that being a teacher is difficult and not a job I�m suited for. Through observation, I know that children who have been molested in their youth are damaged so severely that they often don�t trust anyone. And, they tend to have major control issues. Through observation I know that jail time is not something I want to experience.

So, from the things my sister has gone through, what do I want to learn?

I have to forgive.

There is so much pain, rage and irrational fury in my sister�s life. She still cries about things which happened more than two decades ago. I don�t mean a sniffle or two, or the occasional vent session. I�m talking about full-out, despair-filled wailing and loud, angry, tantrum-like complaints; but not once in a while... frequently; very frequently. She complains in this manner approximately three times a month; about the same things. She feels the pain anew every time she talks about it. She feels the betrayal again. She feels every slap, every insult, as if for the first time.

So, to avoid that bitterness, anger and reliving the same wounds, repeatedly, I must forgive. It would be akin to putting the razor blade away in order to avoid cutting myself. And yet, forgiveness is more than just for those instances where someone has intentionally slighted me. I must also forgive those unintentional slights and those perceived slights. If I don�t, I�m setting myself up for lasting anger, bitterness and internal pain; none of which are attractive to me at this specific juncture.

I must be patient.

For years Yvonne has been grousing about how she is not married and how unfair it is that she doesn�t have anyone. She has jumped at the chance of a relationship by taking a man�s smile to mean the male is interested in a long-term, committed relationship. There are many, many examples of this, but I�m not going to go into detail about them.

The patience thing comes into play when her impatience pushes her to pursue someone who isn�t interested, thus creating a relationship where there isn�t one. After this process, she goes through an extended period of time where she vacillates between being completely enamored of the male in question and days when she is so frustrated by his lack of interest that she is nearly homicidal.

Well, okay, homicidal may be an exaggeration, but not by a whole hell of a lot.

Patience is necessary so that I do not rush into a foolish situation. If I can restrain myself long enough to examine the options open to me, perhaps I will make a much better choice. Part of patience is getting the proper advice. And, of course, part of getting the proper advice is listening to it.

Trust/Commit

This is very important. This is one of those things that I really don�t do very well at all. I can trust people, but only so far. Actually, the thing that is most important here? I have to trust myself. Charles has given me this little piece of advise on numerous occasions. I really should pay some attention to it.

I need to trust myself. It�s not the other people I�m having trouble with. I know that I have been raised well and I know that I can say �no� when I should. I know that I have the ability to do that which is required of me. I know that I can also not do that which I shouldn�t. I have faith in God. I also need to have faith in His creation; me.

Hmmm... Must think more on this.