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Being who we are, even if FOO is different and doesn't like it
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 671929" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>My sister has the belief that her thinking is correct, the only correct way to think and that others who choose to have the correct view will believe as does she. It is the royal <em>We</em>, Cedar: The priest is dangerous, manipulative, abusive, because <em>we</em> think it.</p><p></p><p>If I deigned to dispute a strongly held belief of my sister's she would become enraged.</p><p>I believe that my sister felt this: How dare she come and take care of <em>my</em> mother. It is my place, and only my own to decide my mother's care and who does it.</p><p></p><p><em>I don't have no stinkin badges</em>, is the attitude that comes to mind (Sierra Madre, I think.)</p><p></p><p>Once I came back to care for my mother my sister could not be any other thing but enraged. Because she thought it was her place to own and to control. I was by definition a usurper of what was hers.</p><p></p><p>I will always be a beggar to my sister. I could only converse with her from the margins. My life for almost 60 years I have felt marginal. I am only seeing now that it was my sister who named me such. It was not my mother. It was my sister.</p><p> She uses her husband as if he is a butler who goes to the door and takes calling cards.</p><p></p><p>She has told everybody, including my old mother, that we were toxic to her, poisonous. And that is why she has to stay away from us. Because of her health. Before she got breast cancer it was her emotional health that we threatened. Now it is her life itself.</p><p></p><p>We are talking about <em>killing malignancy</em> here. That is how my sister defined us to herself and to others. That is why she would not talk to me or my mother as she died...and how she justified it to others...because we would kill her.</p><p></p><p>If she defines me as this <em>as killing</em>...would she ever see it as an opportunity to be present? To her I am garbage. Or worse, a malignancy.</p><p>Yes.</p><p>Yes.</p><p>Yes. When my sister unilaterally confined my mother who was perfectly fine to a rehabilitation hospital...without the legal right to do so, and without my mother's knowledge and consent...<em>she just did it</em>. <em>Despite the fact that there was a legal process in place which she ignored</em>. (As an attorney she knew what she was doing and the consequences.)</p><p></p><p>When I mentioned I had spoken to a social worker at the hospital she became enraged. <em>Only she had that unilateral right.</em> (It was like that time I sat on the beehive.)</p><p></p><p>I never ever had allowed myself really to <em>know</em> what I was dealing with, even though I knew it all along. I am so grateful I can know now. It is a horrible thing to fully recognize that your sister believes that you do not have rights as a daughter, or even when it relates to her, as a person.</p><p></p><p>She knew what she was doing every minute. She knew it was wrong and illegal and unethical. Yet I was the guilty and responsible party. That is how it works. There must be the belief, there is no other way to think, that with respect to her, I must be value-less and power-less.</p><p></p><p>Even though I am held as very high value in my family. That is the reality against which this whole theater is played out. So what I have had to hold in my mind nearly my whole life is that I am highly valued and not at all.</p><p>I sure did, Cedar.</p><p>Thank you, Cedar.</p><p>I am becoming ill thinking about thanksgiving. M's sister decided to make dinner. <em>I do not think M wants me to invite my son to go. He did not volunteer it as a possibility. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p>When I told M I was really feeling nervous about my son coming home, he said, there are alternatives, why not go to the big city and have dinner with him there?</p><p></p><p>I said: I told him he could come home on thanksgiving, as a way to put him off from coming a couple of weeks ago. (Isn't this terrible? To write this way about my son who I love.)</p><p></p><p>M said: He does not have to get a hundred percent of what he wants. You can go and meet him. (He did not say, <em>we</em>.) If I have to go to the Big City alone, that will be almost worse than having my son come here. At least here I will not be alone.</p><p></p><p>I am thinking about all of the times my son called the cops on us. I am thinking about how he gave M the black eye. I am thinking about how he takes over the house and I have to hide out in my room. I hate it when he is here. I absolutely hate it.</p><p></p><p>He is my son. I have to think of something. I think I will ask M's sister point blank if my son is invited. I will establish whether or not M will go with me or not to the Big City.</p><p></p><p>What do you think?</p><p></p><p>COPA</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 671929, member: 18958"] My sister has the belief that her thinking is correct, the only correct way to think and that others who choose to have the correct view will believe as does she. It is the royal [I]We[/I], Cedar: The priest is dangerous, manipulative, abusive, because [I]we[/I] think it. If I deigned to dispute a strongly held belief of my sister's she would become enraged. I believe that my sister felt this: How dare she come and take care of [I]my[/I] mother. It is my place, and only my own to decide my mother's care and who does it. [I]I don't have no stinkin badges[/I], is the attitude that comes to mind (Sierra Madre, I think.) Once I came back to care for my mother my sister could not be any other thing but enraged. Because she thought it was her place to own and to control. I was by definition a usurper of what was hers. I will always be a beggar to my sister. I could only converse with her from the margins. My life for almost 60 years I have felt marginal. I am only seeing now that it was my sister who named me such. It was not my mother. It was my sister. She uses her husband as if he is a butler who goes to the door and takes calling cards. She has told everybody, including my old mother, that we were toxic to her, poisonous. And that is why she has to stay away from us. Because of her health. Before she got breast cancer it was her emotional health that we threatened. Now it is her life itself. We are talking about [I]killing malignancy[/I] here. That is how my sister defined us to herself and to others. That is why she would not talk to me or my mother as she died...and how she justified it to others...because we would kill her. If she defines me as this [I]as killing[/I]...would she ever see it as an opportunity to be present? To her I am garbage. Or worse, a malignancy. Yes. Yes. Yes. When my sister unilaterally confined my mother who was perfectly fine to a rehabilitation hospital...without the legal right to do so, and without my mother's knowledge and consent...[I]she just did it[/I]. [I]Despite the fact that there was a legal process in place which she ignored[/I]. (As an attorney she knew what she was doing and the consequences.) When I mentioned I had spoken to a social worker at the hospital she became enraged. [I]Only she had that unilateral right.[/I] (It was like that time I sat on the beehive.) I never ever had allowed myself really to [I]know[/I] what I was dealing with, even though I knew it all along. I am so grateful I can know now. It is a horrible thing to fully recognize that your sister believes that you do not have rights as a daughter, or even when it relates to her, as a person. She knew what she was doing every minute. She knew it was wrong and illegal and unethical. Yet I was the guilty and responsible party. That is how it works. There must be the belief, there is no other way to think, that with respect to her, I must be value-less and power-less. Even though I am held as very high value in my family. That is the reality against which this whole theater is played out. So what I have had to hold in my mind nearly my whole life is that I am highly valued and not at all. I sure did, Cedar. Thank you, Cedar. I am becoming ill thinking about thanksgiving. M's sister decided to make dinner. [I]I do not think M wants me to invite my son to go. He did not volunteer it as a possibility. [/I] When I told M I was really feeling nervous about my son coming home, he said, there are alternatives, why not go to the big city and have dinner with him there? I said: I told him he could come home on thanksgiving, as a way to put him off from coming a couple of weeks ago. (Isn't this terrible? To write this way about my son who I love.) M said: He does not have to get a hundred percent of what he wants. You can go and meet him. (He did not say, [I]we[/I].) If I have to go to the Big City alone, that will be almost worse than having my son come here. At least here I will not be alone. I am thinking about all of the times my son called the cops on us. I am thinking about how he gave M the black eye. I am thinking about how he takes over the house and I have to hide out in my room. I hate it when he is here. I absolutely hate it. He is my son. I have to think of something. I think I will ask M's sister point blank if my son is invited. I will establish whether or not M will go with me or not to the Big City. What do you think? COPA [/QUOTE]
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