The Truth About My Sister

Some blog posts are just so honest that it can be scary.  This is about to be one of those.  If that turns you off, sorry- this might be one you'd like to skip.  In real life, I am typically a pretty easy going person.  I think I have a pretty good grip on reality and I don't see my life as any better or worse than most.  However, this blog is a place where it feels safe to share what are sometimes not so pleasant aspects of my pretty normal life, so here goes...

Over the past couple of months, my nephew who I have written of many, many times before has been seeing a psychologist because of some behavioral issues that he has.  Over time it had become obvious that he is not quite up to the average for his age group in many ways.  Thankfully none of these ways involve a lack of IQ or mental capacity, but it is still quite important that he learn how to relate to the world in a relatively 'normal' way.  So on good recommendation from his teacher and councilor, off to the psychologist he went.

Now I will admit that I am a bit skeptical of the tendency to over diagnose.  It seems that almost everyone in this world is diagnosed with something these days.  Plus with the history that I have witnessed of way too many people in my family going to councilors and psyche doctors for years & years and never having improvement, you could say my expectations are never high for this kind of thing.  Still, I thought it would be worth a try.  And it turned out that right away I could tell that this psychologist was the real deal.  Once I got past her silly squeaky voice, I could tell that she meant well and wasn't there to just find a diagnosis.

My nephew did go through a bunch of testing and the psychologist met with several different family members several times before she gave us her opinion.  I have to admit I was very curious to see what she had to say and I have had a burning question in my mind about my nephew for the past few years so I was anxious to see what would come of this.

The question that I have never really faced is this:  Does my nephew have some sort of issue like ADHD, Aspergers, OCD- or is it purely an issue of the way that he was raised?

I think I know now why I never really wanted to face this question.

My nephew has been diagnosed with PTSD.  He is nine.  I am sad for him beyond words.

I am sad for the fact that he has been so traumatized that it has affected who he is and how he relates in everyday life.  I am sad that he is just another casualty in a family that just doesn't seem able to function at even a relatively normal level.  I am sad that the abuse that runs deep in my family couldn't have stopped with my sister and I.

How in the world does anybody have a crappy childhood and then turn around and do the same garbage to their own kids?  I know, I am one to talk.  I don't have any kids.

But I did have my sister- that I seriously pretty much raised from the time she was born when I was 8.  (I used to drop her off at daycare down the street on my way to 3rd grade.  My mother would call and wake me up and then I would get myself and my baby sister ready for the day.)  And at one time I thought that the love and values that I had shared with her would be enough to keep her from ever turning out like so many women in my family have.

There is my great grandmother who allowed a soldier who was staying in her home to rape her daughter, my grandmother.  My grandmother became a mother at 14 as a result of this.  And then went on to have 4 kids by the age of 19.  4 kids that she did absolutely horrendous things to.  Things like tying them to their bunk beds and whipping them with extension chords.  One of those kids was my mother, who once had a high heel shoe put through her skull.  My mother who ended up with Munchhausen by proxy and gained attention for having such 'sick' children.  One of those children, my sister, became a cutter and a drug addict and is also abusive. 

It seems that the women in my family are just truly sick and evil in so many ways.  Ways that petrified me growing up and made me wonder who and what I would turn out to be.  They were all addicts and abusers in turn.  Now my nephew is the latest in the line of victims.  Seeing him and how he is affected is very difficult.  It is like looking in a mirror in some ways.  In other ways, it is empowering.  I can see the results of this long line of abuse and I can see that there is a chance to change things.

While I am disgusted by the fact that this experience with my nephew seeing a psychologist has made me look at a hard truth about my sister and who she really is, I am grateful for the opportunity to grow and be a better person who is available to my nephew in a very special way.  I know that when the day comes that he just might share his deepest feelings with me, I will be there as a healthy and supportive person who can show him what life can be- no matter how it started out. 

I have a good friend who has told me that she is amazed at the transformation in me over the past couple of years.  She has declared that I am a whole new person.  She is religious and has declared me a person who has broken generational sin.  She tells me how inspiring this has been for her to see.  I have learned to take her compliments and use them for good instead of denying them.  I will use my experiences for the positive.  I will be someone that my nephew can always count on. 

a picture taken at the Newport, OR aquarium during one of my nephew and I's many wonderful adventures!

 

I will NOT allow my sadness that my sisters life is not what I had dreamed of for her to affect my nephews possibilities.  I am not 8 years old any more, trying to get a colicky baby to calm down while watching an after school special.  I did the best I could then and this life is not about the past.  Facing the truth doesn't have to be an exercise in futility.  I will always love my sister, though I doubt very much that I will ever fully understand her.  I may be sad that she will never really share the gift that she was meant to give of herself to the world.  But I promise to my nephew, Nathan, that I will not let my sadness take away from what I have to offer.  I will love him and comfort him and help him to grow, right where he's planted.  And one day I will tell him all about how I helped to transplant him to the spot where he's at.  I will share how much it meant to me to be a part of making his life a positive and how much helping him has absolutely changed my soul and allowed me to grow in ways I never could have imagined.

New Perspective

I got that call I was waiting for, on Monday afternoon.  The prosecutor called to let me know the outcome of my mother's sentencing hearing for her felony domestic violence assault conviction. 
The results in rational terms: 6 months in jail, 88 hours of community service, 3 years of probation, various fines, will never be eligible to work with kids, the elderly, etc.  She must pay for counseling for the minor child that witnessed her behavior until he is 18.  She must have a psychological exam and pay for and stay current with any treatment that is prescribed. 
The emotional toll: I had pretty much prepared myself for the guilt and sorrow that I knew would come.  What I never saw coming was the anger and disgust.  The prosecutor took the time to go over the whole hearing with me, line by line.  She felt that I needed to know what had happened because she wants to be sure that I get through the reality of just how bad my mother's mental issues are and how that still might effect me.  I have to say that this prosecutor has been so good to me.  She has taken extra time and energy to truly help me through this.  One particular issue that has cropped up in the past that involves me is that my mother sometimes believes that she is me.  She has even been known to commit petty crime and give my name.  Apparently, the hearing had to be stopped twice so that things could be clarified for my mother.  She felt that the papers that the judge was reading, that I had sent in, were all just things that I meant to say about my sister, not her.  Then she said, "that's O.K.  I understand because I used to be her."  My mother honestly believes that she groomed me so well that I am not capable of saying anything negative about her, that everything I wrote was meant to be directed at my sister.  She is also still convinced that we are the same person.  She has spoken many times about how she used to be me and she is not speaking metaphorically.  My mother means that we are one and the same person, as if I am some part that has broken away and needs to be reined in. 
If you are not totally weirded out at this point, then I'm sure you are starting to get why this is so hurtful.  It's as if no matter what I ever do, I will never truly be my own person in my mother's eyes.  She will never get to see who I have become.  She will never enjoy me as her daughter.  My personality, my emotions, my thoughts are an affront to her.  If anything unique and apart from her is seen in me, it is a problem meant to be squashed.  I knew this was an issue, but had secretly hoped that one day things would change.  The prosecutor reminded me that although things could change one day, I need to live my life as if it doesn't matter if they never do.
It took me a couple of days to digest all of this and get to a point that I can live with.  I know my mother needed to be stopped.  I hope that she gets some real help.  I also know that regardless of whatever she does or does not do with her life, mine will go on.  And I will enjoy it.  To the fullest.  I deserve it.  And honestly, especially after some of the things I read on others' blogs, I know that my life is good.  I know I am changing the pattern in my family for the better.  I will continue to look to the positive and refuse to wallow in the past.  My mother may never truly know me.  I will share what I have to offer with everyone in my life and trust that my unique gifts will be accepted and appreciated by those who are meant to receive them. 

Family Tradition

Been a little out of sorts lately.  I am really not always like this.  I swear I will have interesting things to say that are of a more fun variety.  Soon.
In the mean time, I got a call last Friday that blew my mind.  And my husbands mind, so I knew it wasn't just me. 
It's hard to explain without going into a lot of old business, but let's just say that someone is finally being stopped short for something that has gone on for years and years. 
Actually, enough with the cryptic crap.  I hate it that my family seems to be overly involved with the justice system, but it is what it is.  And it doesn't have to make me feel like a loser... 
My mother is now a convicted felon and will be sentenced on Monday the 29th of November.  A reign of terror that has caused hurt for so many people is coming to an abrupt halt.  She was convicted of felony domestic violence against my sister, for an event that happened last January.  (For those following this little soap opera, that would be my only sister who is the fine example of parenting these days.  Yes the whole apple and the tree thing...  I am hoping that this might signal a big change in some family dynamics, eventually.) 
The part that blows my mind is that the prosecutor called to tell me that the judge has decided that my mother is not eligible for the minimum based on information that I provided.  The minimum is 90 days.  It seems that I was able to prove a pattern of behavior, which will be one of the biggest deciding factors in what her sentence will be.  The prosecutor will call me after the proceeding to let me know what the ultimate decision is.
Let me tell you, I have been on a roller coaster of emotions.  I honestly believed that nothing would ever come of this.  Most people think that my mother is the nicest so and so around, at least until she blows up in their face or tries to run them over with her car.  Yes, that has really happened.  And then people just walk away and stop being her friend, leaving her to continue taking her rage out on her family.  I am in disbelief that the facade has finally crumbled.  That someone has finally seen what has really been going on for all this time.  I feel vindicated and guilty all at once.  I am grateful that my sister will see that this behavior is truly wrong and maybe take a look at her own.  I am sad that it took so long.  I haven't come to terms with the idea that my words and evidence will lead to a more severe sentence for my own mother.  I wonder who my sister might have been if my mother had gotten help or been different.  The roller coaster hasn't stopped yet...
As I sort through all these feelings, I am ultimately at some sort of peace.  My family is changing, though the process is raw and difficult.  I know that I am contributing in a positive way. 
My husband and I will be spending Thanksgiving with my nephew and his father and their family.  We will celebrate a good moment with a family that has been waiting for this for a long time.  We will be part of something bigger than ourselves.  Part of something that could contribute to a better future.  I really can't ask for anything more.  Happy Thanksgiving.