Skemaholics Anonymous

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Before I begin, I want to tell you that I am not trying to throw a guilt trip on you. I don't want you to apologize for anything. I just need to move on, and to do so, I am going to have to get this off my chest.

When I was younger you and I were really close. I used to love to sit down and write you a letter and wait for mine in return. I actually kept your letters for the longest time. But lost them when we moved to Ardmore. But as I realized I didn't have them anymore, I didn't care. You may be wondering why and I'll explain.

Through the last few years you've apologized to Timothy so many times, but where is mine? You apologized to our father, but not me. Where is the apology for telling me, when I was twelve, that it was MY fault that your children were taken. Yes, I am lazy and my house was dirty, but Shannon, I didn't make you get high and leave your daughter in charge. Being three.

Where is my apology for the day you walked in my house spitting drunk and told me I'm a worthless, lazy, son-of-a-bitch? Where is the apology for pointing and laughing when you saw the first tear fall because I believed it?

What about those thousands of times you told me I am stupid and won't amount to anything? How about the time you called me fat, just because you could?

Then there was the night you tried your hardest to break down my bedroom door to blame me for your girlfriend leaving? You know, because I forced you to drink, and told her to get sick of it.

Shannon, I know I am fat, lazy and worthless. I know my house is usually a mess. But what did I ever do to you growing up to make you so unhappy? What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?

I have tried so hard through the years to get you to love me like your supposed to love a sister, but the more I try, the more you hate me. Is it because I'm not a boy? Is it because I'm not Timothy? Is it because I have let you walk all over me the last 21 years and you think it's okay?

Please, dear brother, enlighten me. Tell me what I did wrong. Tell me why I'm not even good enough for you to tell me you're sorry. Tell me why you're never surprised to hear anything bad about me. Tell me why you dislike me so much.

I also remember one year you telling me that the smartest person in our family is you. And you pointed out that the dumbest, is me. Thank you, by the way, for telling me all this. Yes, I'm thanking you. I'm thanking you for telling me this and me, after hearing it enough, believing it. Thank you, also, for helping for my first emotional breakdown. Thank you for driving me to the point of being afraid of you. Thank you for making my life miserable for those six months that you lived with me. Thank you for making me feel like a complete catastrophe, and not caring that you did it.

Thank you for those long lonely nights where I laid in bed at night gripping my pillow with my life crying a puddle of tears because I had no idea what I did to you.

Shannon, I love you. I will always love you. You're my brother. You are my friend. But I hope and pray, that you will finally put the bottle down. Shannon you are so much better when you're sober. Unless it's around me. Because the day you stood on my porch and blamed me for the state taking your three children, you were sober. You told me I was laughing at you. Do you remember? Shannon, I wasn't laughing. I was pissed. I was pissed because you told me that it wasn't YOUR fault. That is was mine. I guess next time I'll have to remember not to tell you to go get high and leave your three year old to take care of her siblings. Next time, I'll remember that.

I'm sorry that I am such a burden to you. I'm sorry that I am such a mess that I would do these things to you. Make your girlfriend leave. I'm sorry that I am dumb. I'm sorry that I cannot do anything to make you love me.

Remember, I'm not looking for an apology from you. I don't want one, and it won't mean anything to me now. Because it's too late. It's too late for you to care what I think, or what I care. But as far as I can see, Shannon, you don't think of me as a sister. You think of me as a pest. You have a sister, and you've stated this, and she lives in Carlsbad, New Mexico. When you call MY phone you ask for Tim. When you text MY phone, you ask for Tim. If you want to be buddies with Tim, then call and text him.

The Christmas card you sent me is sitting on my desk. Hasn't moved since I opened the envelope. I look at it everyday. I reread the inside of it. Wondering to myself if you really meant it when you wrote it. Or, if you wrote it because you think it's what you should do. You apologized in Timothy's card. Do you not realize all the shit you did to me? Do you not realize the reason Timothy kicked you out of the trailer is because of me? Do you not realize the only TRUE brother I have, is Timothy.

But do remember, and I honestly mean this, that I love you and will always love you. I cannot forgive you. But I'm going to walk away and forget. The pain will always remain with me, because I thought I was being a good sister. But, I guess not.

Your sister,
Barbara


I know this is probably not the best of places to post this. But I actually thought it was better to place it here than anywhere else. This is an actual letter I wrote to my 40 year old brother. And once I get a stamp, I am going to mail it to him. Because I need to move on. And without telling him how I fell I cannot move on. I will be harboring so many unsaid feelings to him, and I have to do it. Why am I posting it here? I don't know. I guess to prove to people that I wrote it, and I'm not holding the feelings anymore. Isn't that what a blog is for?

Love until later,

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Comment by AnGella on December 30, 2009 at 7:32pm
That's exactly what a blog is for. I feel your pain and can't stand when people push all their problems off on others. Hope he figures it out and owns his mistakes.

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