Giving Up…

I give up. That is what I’ve often muttered in my head since last evening in any case. As one can guess from the emails posted, my sister and I “got into it”.

She arrived Christmas Eve late evening. Mom and Dad picked her up from the airport and brought her home. It had been fine. Christmas had been fine. She and Jeremy got along. There was good conversation at the dinner table and laughing. It had been nice. The calm before the storm, I suppose.

I went to bed early that night. The past few months obviously have taken there toll.

I woke late on the twenty-sixth. Hilary was on a cleaning rampage. She “couldn’t stand the clutter” and so rummaged through the medicine cabinet and my mother’s things to clean it all up. I knew it was pointless to try to stop her, but I knew it certainly wouldn’t make Mom happy. I emailed her a warning. Apparently Hilary had already informed her by leaving a message on her phone. All through her cleaning, she complained about Mom pretty much. I kept correspondence with Mom through email. Mom was not pleased, but likely wasn’t surprised by Hilary’s tendencies either.

I am best suited to calm, quiet settings and being alone most of the day. The routine of this home is ideal. Hilary was causing chaos, had music blasting from my dad’s computer and was complaining like mad. It frayed my nerves and I even tried escaping to the garage to break down cardboard boxes just to regain some sanity and peace.

Somewhere in one of my emails I wrote, “Help me. Save me.”

I went to bed early that night as well because my energy was drained by Hilary’s energies and I was still recovering from the past three months.

I admittedly don’t remember the twenty-seventh much at all.

Yesterday had been good. I woke up and thought Hilary was simply sleeping. The house was quiet and peaceful. I tended to the dishes in the sink, ate some Mandarin oranges and was relieved. Turns out she was gone to do something and accompanied Mom to get Christmas supplies on sale.

For a while Mom and Hilary was settled down in the Cat Room and were talking. Hilary’s voice carries so I knew what was going on. I eventually wandered in and tried to put my two cents in but Hilary dismissed me and told me I didn’t understand. This annoyed me as it usually does.

By dinner time we were to go out to eat, just the three of us since Dad had to work late as did my brother. I was questioning about going since I was still feeling annoyed by my sister, but went anyway. That was a mistake.

Hilary ragged on me again when I brought something up due to something my mom said. Finally beyond pissed with her I told her I wished she’d stop being such a bitch. Now, usually I keep those thoughts to myself. Well, I was tired, had missed taking my meds for almost two days due to the chaos and everything being off schedule and dealt with her offhanded verbal abuse. So yeah. It was inevitable.

We got into something akin to an argument, which was mainly her bitching at me and me not even bothering trying to explain since she’d never let me get a word in anyway. Even if I did she’d never consider my words and I’d likely get choked up from crying anyway.

It “ended” there. Hilary and I ignored each other and mainly interacted with Mom. I was apologetic that Mom had to deal with the fiasco, but also stewed less than favorable thoughts about my sister though I am not proud of it. Yes… it wasn’t the end.
We arrived home and I greeted my dad before heading to my room. Typing up my apology/rant email to my mom, soon enough drama occurs after I send it. Hilary planned to go to San Antonio that night. She called up my brother and asked him to take her. He apparently agreed to.

This upset Dad and he asked her why she was doing this… This led to a tirade. Hilary called me “Her” and bad mouthed all of us. She hates how Mom and Dad “baby” me and always takes my side. She added Travis into the mix saying they always considered me right and them wrong. She went on how it was just like the past in our old home and so forth. She obviously looks down on me for how I live and my situation. Pretty much, I learned she still resents me to this day.

So… I give up. I give up on her. I give up trying to be her sibling. I give up on the idea that she’ll ever like me. I give up on thinking she’ll mature and come to be more sympathetic.

I don’t hate her. I just don’t know if I can kid myself into believing we’ll ever be a family. She is but a sister in name… no more, no less.