I woke and did chores this morning. I thought of the day before and still wondered about my mother’s response to my dream. I worried. She is one of the few people I care about deeply enough to worry over how I am seen. I expected my dad’s response. Just by my dream he worried for my sister. My mom’s response… was too ambiguous for me to read.
I wondered if I should leave my worries alone and let my subconscious battle them or if I should talk to my mom again. Perhaps I would bring it up when we went to see my psychiatrist. Maybe I’d show her my last entry. Perhaps I’d simply bring it up. At worst, I’d keep silent and hope to forget about all of it. Since I knew brooding over it would just make me sick, I mainly preoccupied my mind the rest of the day until I saw her again.
Around four thirty she arrived home and we headed for the doctor. During the ride and while lounging in the waiting room we talked. I flat out asked her if I my reaction to my dream disturbed her at all. She replied no since she knew it was just a dream and dreams are symbolic.
The conversation went on from there. I told her she blatantly said I killed her in the dream. She said she didn’t mean to say that and we vaguely went over her interpretation and such. I told her a summary of my interpretation. I told her I knew all the conflicts between her didn’t die like how she speculated. I… know that deep inside I still am leery of my sister… at least of the past.
I know mentally I am at peace. As noted in my previous entry, I do not regret what happened, because it also was part of what made me become who I am today. Intellectually I am aware my sister likely has no clue that her actions in the past have traumatized me and all that crap. She likely doesn’t remember a damn thing. I know it is just the way she is. I know that I see her as my sister and I care for her as a sister. Even though in families people will go to the extent of disowning a member… such doesn’t fit in my belief system. She is my sister no matter what.
I also know, however… that despite she is my sister, as a person I don’t greatly care for her, but I don’t hate her. While I can vaguely feel sympathetic to her… for the most part I feel nothing. Fondness… doesn’t really come to mind in my memories. Sure, there were interesting times… but when it comes down to her alone… She’s just another person.
Should I think of her in the past… she is the nightmare that became reality. Thinking of myself around her back then… She could terrify me to speechlessness. I froze and I would obey. I learned defiance only got me in deeper shit.
While in the past my relationship with her made me so angry… now… I think it just makes me sad. When I think of how my parents did nothing… I think I’m resigned.
I don’t know what I’d do now should I ever encounter my sister in her past moods. I know if my parents ever took her side in the matter or didn’t believe me… I’d be crushed.
For now, though… I think I’m back to being relatively peaceful. My misinterpretation of my mother’s reaction was solved.
Thinking back… I remembered how I told no one anything when a child. I didn’t want to be a burden, I didn’t want to be weak and I was afraid of how the listener would respond. I almost did that today. I thought of just keeping my worries over my mom to myself.
Talking isn’t weak. It takes more will and courage than some think. While it can start misunderstandings it can always clear them as well. It can bring the greatest of dread and to most wonderful relief.
Even if the person you tell reacts the way you most fear you find out more about what kind of person he or she was and you no longer struggle with the issue. The response may have broken something, but there are no more what ifs. Illusions are no longer there. True, the person no longer sees you the way they once saw you… but then you will not be living a lie and… you find out if the person is truly someone who you can depend on.
I… had a handful of friends when growing up. The few times I tried to talk with them, they never understood. There was one in the end though. He seems to find none of my words surprising and he never shies away. The same goes for my mother. I’d rather only have two people understand me like that than many friends…
I can be truthful to them, confide in them and while I might be afraid sometimes… I have come to trust them to the point I have belief. I believe they will understand me… and if they don’t, they won’t shun me. I am… very grateful for that.
In my short life… I realized I’ve been taken advantage of when it comes to friendships. All of those friends I once had… I tried to be the best friend possible. I always quietly promised I would be there for my friends no matter what. I became the person they would confide in and that was about all. They’d pull me out from a dusty drawer, tell me woes, problems and such… and when satisfied, they would stick me back in and leave.
I became physically sick due to that. It took years for me to finally realize I had to stop before I was eaten away from such relationships. They couldn’t understand me and didn’t even try to, and yet I still tried to be a good friend to them. In the end, I realized, such a promise was pointless. I was their friend… but they apparently were not mine.
Heh… all of this makes me think of that story I wrote.

“I thought of you as an illusion once, Edan. Do you know that?” she thought quietly as she felt his warmth envelope her.
“I feared letting myself touch anyone… not just physically alone, but mentally and emotionally. Did you know that?”
Quietly she reached for his hands. He lifted them so his would meet hers. She smiled vaguely.
“Touch… I put so much into it. If I were to touch you, would you disappear? Would all of this be but a dream created due to insanity? Am I still back at my post and merely am mad?
“If I were to touch your mind… would what I see be an illusion? Did I merely make you so wonderful in fantasies? Would the dream shatter and explode into oblivion?”
She shut her eyes and took in his scent. She simply wanted to be surrounded by him like a blanket.
“Perhaps one day I will be able to let you look at everything. Maybe one day we will touch completely and not merely watch from afar. On that day… perhaps my trust will be freed.”