I alluded to my sister in the "Hello I'm Marta" posting. I'm using the alias of 'Z' for my sister. People who know us will definitely be aware that it is us since she and I have unusual names. I suppose that is OK since she passed away in June 2005 and I am tired of keeping secrets. My immediate family is aware of my secret past and know that I am now very open about it. Now I drop the other shoe--my sister and I were victims of sexual abuse at the hands of our father. He died in 1968 and the man that I now refer to as "my dad" is my stepfather (who has been my stepfather since 1972). I did not seek professional help dealing with this abuse until 1983 or '84. I was going through a divorce and seeing a therapist to help with that situation. At the end of one session, I very offhandedly said "Oh yeah by the way, my father sexually abused me". There was barely time for the therapist to react. She said we had a lot to cover in our next session and that she was not surprised because I exhibited behavior common to abuse survivors. I continued with this therapist for about another year and joined a therapy group for sex abuse survivors. It was amazing and frightening how much I had in common with the other women in the group. The most common thing about us was the lack of self-esteem. It was so bad for some that one member had attempted suicide several times and did kill herself after I had left the group.
Until I started dealing with the abuse with a therapist, I didn't realize how much it had affected my life. The fallout continues to this day. They say that admitting you have a problem is half the battle. I think it's really about 20% of the battle. I am still overweight, self-destructive and depressed. Knowing that my father's behavior contributed to my behavior helps, but it is still hard work to change things. I admit that although I am depressed and unhappy, it is comfortable in my little rut of a life. It's scary to change things, so here I wallow.
Back to my sister: she was also abused and greatly affected by it. Now for the disclaimer; anything I mention here about 'Z' is my opinion. She is dead now and can't rebut anything I say about her. I loved my sister and I miss her like crazy. But I also don't miss her because she made my life miserable. To say that she suffered from low self-esteem is like calling Hurricane Katrina a summer rain shower. My sister was a train wreck. She let everyone take advantage of her (me included). I loved her husband like a brother, but her relationship with him was toxic. They loved each other fiercely, but she never came first with him. He was physically and emotionally abused as a child and I think that was part of their attraction to each other. 'Z' and 'J' were verbally abusive to each other one minute and loving the next minute. (He passed away in 1989.) I have had other family members tell me that they stayed away because they could not stand being exposed to the battling. Their daughter has had behavior and emotional problems for years. She was also diagnosed as bipolar. My niece (I'll refer to her as 'T') has been into drugs and was recently paroled from one of the
I had tried to talk to 'Z' about the abuse around 1984. I had a long talk with my mother after I had been in the therapy group for several months. Mom was not aware of the abuse when it was happening. I'm not sure she ever really understood the nature of abuse. Her reaction had been to profess that she thought that she and my father had a good sexual relationship. I explained to her that even though the abuse occurs as sexual activity, the real payoff to the abuser is the power they hold over the victim. 'Z' was totally bent out of shape that I had told Mom. In her mind, 'Z' was still the little girl our father had told she would be out of favor with Mom (maybe even hated) if she did not do what father insisted she do. I never wanted to talk about the details of what had happened to us. I wanted to talk to her about how it made me feel. I wanted to know her feelings. She very seldom spoke of it. The few times I was able to draw her out, she said that it was in the past, it was dead and she felt no need to talk about it. It seemed to become a larger barrier between us. My other sister 'B' had been abused as well. Her reaction to my revelations were very different and letting go of the secret has brought us closer.
I've gone all the way around the barn to explain why I loved my sister and yet she made me miserable. 'Z' moved into my house with me and my son in '95. She was disabled and not able to work because of Crohn's disease, a chronic illness of the digestive system. She had been living with our parents since some time in 1993. 'Z' had been a registered nurse/case manager. According to her version, she was moving in to take care of me and my chronic pain. I wanted her to move in because it got her out of our parent's house before they asked her to leave. I admit to feeling a little superior because I was the one with the house for her to move into. We never discussed how we would handle finances. Things just seemed to evolve that she paid for groceries, meals out, her car expenses and her medical care. The rest was mine.
'Z' took over the kitchen and began dictating our television viewing. Our mother gave me hell more than once about how I would sit on my ass and make my sister do all of the cooking. I felt very unwelcome in the kitchen. Still I would offer to fix meals. As time went by the Crohn's was destroying 'Z's joints and she had knee replacements. Still she insisted on doing all of the cooking. I would worry about the stove and counter tops because she would rest her weight, which was in excess of 300 pounds, on the counters and the oven handle. (I was over 300 pounds myself, so I understood why 'Z' was supporting herself on the furniture and I never complained.)
'Z' was desperate to lose weight, but not by diet and exercise (my opinion admittedly). She had heard of the gastric bypass surgery and was researching it. She had a laparoscopic Roux-en-Y gastric bypass in January 1998. I had mine in February. We appeared on a local news story about desperate measures taken to lose weight. They even followed up with us a year later. 'Z' lost weight at a phenomenal rate. About August 1998, 'Z' announced she wanted to move into her own apartment. I confess that I was hurt at first. She moved in September. I didn't see her frequently so I didn't realize how fast she was losing weight. In May 1999 'B' came to Georgia to get 'Z' to take her to Texas to help with the preparations for our niece's wedding. While in Texas, 'Z' would call me and tell me things that seemed odd to me. She claimed to be having seizures and hallucinations. When I arrived in Texas for the wedding (about 2 weeks after 'Z' had left Georgia) I was shocked by how much weight she had lost in those 2 weeks. She seemed to be disoriented. I did all of her driving because she could not seem to remember how to get to places she had been visiting for 2 weeks. This was a woman who would read 8 books a week and could remember the names, the authors, the plot and an amazing amount of story detail about every book. I was supposed to fly home (I had arrived by airline), but changed that when it was obvious that 'Z' was unable to drive. She had a strange episode the night after the wedding. She managed to call our brother's hotel room to tell him she had fallen out of bed and could not get up. By the time I was called, the paramedics had arrived and took her to the hospital. They treated her for dehydration and recommended a follow up concerning her nutrition. I moved to her hotel room to keep an eye on her. We left for home after another day in Texas with family. In Mississippi I had to enlist the help of a stranger to lift 'Z' off the toilet in a rest stop. She was so weak, she could not stand up on her own. When we finally got to her apartment, she fell in the parking lot. Even though she now only weighed 130 pounds, I could not get her up. She seemed totally unable to help. Thank heavens for the fire department. I ended up sleeping on her living room floor until I convinced her to move back in with me. I tried sleeping in her bed with her, but she would wake me during the night with hallucinations about people being in the apartment.
'Z' continued to be very weak and disoriented. I contacted the doctor who had performed the gastric bypasses because I had taken her to the local hospital once and they seemed at a loss to help her. The bypass doctor was great. He had her admitted to the hospital and ran a bunch of tests. She was malnourished so he ordered special liquid feedings that were used when her Crohn's disease flared-up. This is very special because the liquid is administered through a port-a-cath which is a device implanted in the patient's chest. I always heard of these feedings as TPN, I now know it means "total parenteral nutrition" which is used when a patient is unable to eat normally. He also ordered physical therapy to help her become ambulatory (able to walk) again.
'Z' would get better, but then get worse again as soon as the liquid feedings were discontinued. By December, the doctor recommended that he reverse her gastric bypass. She had her surgery on December 28 and spent her 50th birthday on 12/31/1999 in ICU. I was down the street in the Days Inn because the hospital was 50 miles from our home and I just can't drive that much with my back. 'Z' came home a few days later and began her recovery.
I have gotten verbose without intending to. The entire point of this is that my sister used her illness to control my behavior. She also treated me as handicapped. She even said to me "You do not realize how ill you are." It was her way to hold the power in our house. And I allowed it. My philosophy was "go along to get along". Any time there was conflict she would say "I know that any day now you are going to tell me to leave". Of course I would back off because it had been proven that she did not do well living apart from me. I would hear her tell people that she raised me, that my mother was too busy working to take care of us. She also claimed to have raised our brother who is a year older than her. I never would challenge her when she made these claims. I don't know if I was being gutless or noble.
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