Here I am again writing about how to find my life again. As I promised I’ll be discussing my issues with my mother and what’s really going on with my sister. Honestly. My relationship with my mother growing up wasn’t the greatest. We always butt heads. I never respected her. I always lashed back like she would lash at me. I was extremely rude to her growing up and I know that. The thing is, when I look at back at my childhood, the first thing I remember was my parents strictness towards me. I was told I wasn’t allowed to go out afterschool, wasn’t allowed to have friends over, wasn’t allowed to have sleepovers, wasn’t allowed to do bad in school, wasn’t allowed to be alone with guys, taught not to trust any man, and do well in school. I remember growing up always not listening to her and wanting to rebel because she gave me so many rules. I wanted to break them all. When I went out late drinking I would come home the next day at 1 in the afternoon. She would call me 20x non-stop and I wouldn’t pick up. I would consistently do this until she got used to me doing this. I always had friends over because that’s what I wanted. I shoplifted when I was younger and got caught. I was hanging out with the wrong people when I was younger. I would sneak out at the middle of the night just to hang. We would drinking all night, making out all night/curious about each other, doing bad things like breaking windows of people they didn’t like and starting fights. I was never apart of the fights or the window breaking but I was there and I thought it was entertaining even though I shouldn’t have thought so. All these things were going on and she didn’t know or they didn’t know what I really doing. I guess I could never really trust my mother with anything, because shes proven to me that she tells anyone about my issue to look for help but all I wanted was for her to listen to me and not tell someone else. She broke my trust. I guess the reason why I treated her the way I did was because she gave me certain treatment when I was younger when I was being bad or didn’t memorize the multiplication table right. I always felt she treated me unfairly compared to my older sister. She believed women should do all the things, to be a housewife, to cook, to clean, please the man. I didn’t believe that at all. I always believed that whatever a man can do I would woman could do better. Or that we were equal at least. She was very sexist and taught me that you need a man that’s rich, you need to learn how to cook, to learn to be a housewive. Just everything that came out my mom’s mouth were things I never truly agreed on. As I was growing up I told myself that I don’t need a man to support me. I don’t ever want to depend on a man for my future. If I want something, I’ll get it myself. I didn’t want a man that was rich I want a guy that is my bestfriend and loves me who I am. I could careless about your finances.
Anyways, while this thing was happening my situation with my older sister came up. My older sister L always grew up timid, shy, too nice, and never stood up for herself. She was bullied in highschool. Had a pushpin stabbed in the back of her neck and she never told anyone about it. One day she told her english tutor the situation and her english tutor actually went to the highschool and talked to the principal. It was only then that those three jackasses got kicked out of school. And during this time that I was rebelling was when my sister was diagnosed with depression. I came home that day with my girlfriend having so much fun. We were walking towards my house and I happened to bump into L, mom, and dad. L was in the center and my mom and my dad right next her. I asked them where they were going. They replied the hospital. And I’m like okay! see you guys soon. I didn’t think of it as much. Later on that day, my mom called me and picked me up to go to the hospital to see my brother. I didn’t understand what was going on because she didn’t tell me yet. Mom parked at the parking lot of the hospital and then told me the situation that happened earlier. L tried to suicide infront of my mother. Not only that but my mother said she was going to kill herself too if she did it. She told me she only said that because she didn’t want L to hurt herself and that she wasn’t really going to do it. But I couldn’t help but breakdown and cry. I could have lost them both in one day. I will always remember that day, that moment when I saw L on the stretcher staring at me with her bloodshot eyes, confused and questioning why I was crying. I will always remember it so vividly. I felt selfish that I didn’t ask why L was going to the hospital. I somewhat still harbour some guilt over it. This was 3 years ago. I never told a single soul of what actually happened. My close friends knew a little bit but never full details. I’m still dealing with this issue now I guess that it’s finally over. I recently found out L wasn’t depressed …she was schizophrenic. I had the most difficulty this year dealing with this illness. L was prescribed strong drugs to control her negative thoughts, repeating herself, stuttering, and for laughing for no reason. The drugs gave her side effects that were scary to me, heavily drugged symptoms, eyes rolling up and a locked jaw. I didn’t know how to react to it. It took some adjusting to be okay with it. It pained me to see L like this.That sometimes I wish it was me instead of her because at least I would probably be able to push myself and make myself have a normal life. With L, she tells me how useless she is, that’s she dumb, that she can’t do anything in life. I tell her that’s not true, that you have to think positively and motivate yourself if you really want to change. I try to act strong around her but it really hurts me to hear her say these things because I worry about her, her future, her life. She was recently sent into a homestay where nurses were taking care of her because they needed to stabilize her meds so she wouldn’t get the bad side effects. L wasn’t the worse case of schizophrenia. She was just really sensitive with the medications. And finally after her meds were stabilized and that L was doing well. I felt like it was finally over. That’s what I told Dee, my counsellor. I felt like I should be over it by now. It’s been so long. I was questioning her if this was the reason why I act a certain way now or why I’m being in the state that I am or why I use alcohol and boys to get rid of the bad memories. But I guess have to figure that out next monday when I see Dee again. Hopefully I find my answer soon cause I don’t want to waste anymore of my days !