auto-necro
UPDATE
my sister's daughter, jessie, was recently diagnosed with a brain neoplasm. at that point, it was clear to me that my sister, rather than jessie, would be the problem in the upcoming weeks, until the mass could be removed and biopsied. i immediately made peace with sis. discussions were had. i decided what i could do best would be to manage my sister and prevent her from having a break down or whatever - and i have done so. kept her busy, which means doing meth and spending hours wandering around in Kohl's (clothing store). she can't buy meth now except via me, so i've been keeping it level. cutting her off would produce a crash just as well as giving her full access. and yes, i do it with her. for two weeks, we've been thick as thieves, while i do my best to contain the drama. at one point, in the hospital waiting room, my 81yo father smacked her in the head with his cane for acting out (i wasn't there). this brings us to today....
i made a treat for my niece - a parfait of bittersweet chocolate mousse | bananas butterscotch fluffed toffee | toasted coconut shortbread (i'm a diabetic, but dammit, i ate one. i have't died yet and it was *royal*) and me and sis went to the hospital today, my niece's last day there. i decided that was my last day of riding herd on sis, too. around midnight tonight i was sitting in the car outside Kohl's when my father called and said "tell her if she charges anything on my account i'll have her arrested". i thought that sounded amusing, so i went back to fiddling with my mp3. still, the store closed and it was time to go home. understand that at this point sis is being acting normal - any of y'all would immediately notice the tweaker. we drive home (she yells for me to TURN or whatever at random, or says 'ITS RED' about a light)
we get home, dad attacks, screaming argument. but before that, me and sis had been discussing whether or not the farm should be sold. rather, sis was telling why it was in my best interest to sell the farm so she could have a condo. it's near the end of the line, so i stop her and say, dad and i have already agreed, he's not going to sell. which is solid fact. she dismissed it and went on with the fantasy (truth - the farm will never be sold. i will live here my every living day and i don't give a shit how it affects her). so i'm pissed, listening to them argue. and i'm geeked to the gills. i did something bad. i went to her and told her, 'all of the last two weeks has been a lie. i was managing you so you couldn't do any more harm to your child. we are NOT friends. dealing with family illness by sucking up huge amounts of ice and going on shopping sprees is disgusting . it's just another addiction. i hate *all* of it'
okay, that wasn't very buddhist. wrong speech. i cried a lot afterwards, but it really was hard on me. i LOATHE consumer capitalism. sis spends hours putting on make up and buys truckloads of clothes. she constantly tries to 'help' me with new clothes, etc, all of which i refuse (well, i kept the boots). she thinks i'm being difficult. i think i spend my time on being a good person, which shows, and thus i don't need wraps and paints. i'm not into being infected with her crap, but for these weeks, i've been entertaining it (i got an AC/DC Back in Black t-shirt and a Bob Marley one, though she stole those ). before Kohl's we were at the international farmer's market. she loves apples, so on a whim i bought her a couple of each of several exotic types. because.....i want to love my sister, it's genetic...?
just now i wrote her this letter:
my sister
methadone has changed you. slowly. you can't dose your brain with pleasure......crave every day and it not affect your personality. it's a magic pill that leaves a hole that only a bigger pill can fill. it trains your brain to seek that kind of behavior - a quick fix, another sale, win, do it again. it seems like that's all there is to life, right? getting your goodie filled, feed the demon....
that's the lie of methadone. there is something else, lots more. when you're zapping your brain with pleasure bombs, you loose sight of little things like joy and peace. i know, i've been there - when you're geeked, you don't feel love. you don't miss it, but it's still missing. hell, who can see little peace in the face of bright methpleasure.
i'm telling you it's still there. hope remains, i hope. and i will help you find it - but it's a helluva road. worth it.
i put the note in her bathroom, along with the apples
so, is that enough? i really crushed her, and it was done out of hate and anger and i'm ashamed. but i don't know anything esle to do.