Lately, I have been troubled. Things that have been in motion for quite some time have finally come to pass, as they will often do. And while I am, on the one hand, glad of this there is still something bothersome that remains.
Most of you, okay maybe two of you, that happen to glance over this blog and avidly non-read it, may know that recently my parents finally made their move. The end of a painfully long and laborious process is both a joyous and sad occasion. Twenty-seven years in one place, people sort of become a fixture of that place. Interestingly mother mentioned to me on the day we were actually moving the belongings from the house that even though they had been in this town nearly three decades, had plenty of friends, close or acquaintances, only a small fraction (read: 3 families) had even come by, or called/texted/emailed, in recent months to wish them farewell and express any sort of emotive response. And while I am the most stoic and unemotional person, that still struck me as odd. But that is neither here nor there, as the bulk of humanity are narcissistic assholes anyway, also that is not really a point of contention here. I only mention it because it pretty much sucks.
The big issue that has been plaguing my mind is an old one. Well, two really, but only one of them am I willing to speak about. And it once again harkens back to darker times, wherein that stupid piece of my brain keeps agitating me, seething and growing like a tumor. At this point, I probably have an actual tumor so that's less of a metaphor and more a bleak medical self-diagnosis.
Ever since my parents moved, like a week ago, I have been bothered more and more with thoughts of my long lost sister. The problem is two-fold. One is that on the day I was moving my parents, and it was just me helping father and mother for the bulk of it since many people had to work, were out of town, etc, I was told during the ordeal that my sister was coming over to say goodbye (a seemingly innocuous and selfless act). I had no problem with that, it was understandable. However, what I had a problem with was that she brought the entire brood with her as usual because she is not allowed outside sans supervision for fear she may run away. Aside from that obvious intrusion, I was told (not asked) by mother that when they arrived I had to stay in the emptying house so that the bitch and her master would actually get out of the car. That pretty much pissed me off. Why should I be the one to suffer such injustice when I have actually been an upstanding person? I didn't run off to fuck some disease-adled, meth addicted, lying, womanizing fuckbag with insecurity, control, legal and daddy issues...
Not wanting to upset my mother and spoil the last chance for a good while that she would have to see her precious illegitimate devil-spawned grandchild-like blob, I, wonderful son, submitted to the command and stayed in the house, pondering how best to murder someone. I would never murder someone, but I can think it about it all I want, and with my imagination I derive much pleasure out of it.
So that's issue one. Issue two is a bit more complex. Despite all the lecherous, selfish, backstabbing, bullshitting, fear mongering, loathsome, vile, heinous, lying, coniving, self-indulgent, victimizing, trite, and otherwise evil shit that my sister has put to my family, I have been wrestling again with biting the bullet and crushing the spirit of my sister by once again being the bigger, better, more narcissistic (but controlled) person and reaching out...again. The last few times have not gone well, but that is to be expected. When you are dealing with someone who has the maturity of 2 year old, the brain of a snail, and the poor-me victim mentality of an inmate, things will never go well unless you play it right. I know how to play it right, but because I also know that I am in the right, I do what I always do and speak the damn truth.
And while I never back down from my convictions, for better or worse, I am considering taking one for the team. I want to do this for two reasons: 1) I want my mother to be happy again, it's pretty important to me. 2) Most importantly, I would be the one who pieced my family back together. Thus my narcissism, and me, win in the end.
I hesitate to do this, however, because of my wealth of knowledge of my sister and her master. I have known my sister for many years, some would say all her natural life, and though she has been lost for the last 2 years, I still know everything about her poisoned mind. The biggest reason I am hesitant is because I know exactly what will happen in the aftermath of conversing with her. Let me show you:
Picture if you will, a dilapidated home infested with cockroaches, dirty dishes piled high as the ceiling, various piss and shit stains on the carpets, walls, and inexplicably, the ceiling. In the corner of the living room is a makeshift couch of milk crates and plywood. On the couch there are two people, my sister and a former inmate. They are talking about recent events wherein I have been the bigger person and tried to make amends for the shit they have done to my family. As they converse, laughter erupts...
"HAHAHAHA! What a fucking pussy! He's so stupid!"
"Oh, no shit! He's never been very smart, but he thinks he is. How damn dumb can you get? He actually apologized! What a dumbass!"
And on and on the scene goes, ad nauseum, until the two people collapse from exhaustion and drug overuse. All the while, the infant child lay in a pile of his own shit, crying in the corner unnoticed. Slowly the child dies.
While I want to fix things I do not want the above scenario to play out, and I know for a fact that is how it would go. That alone would in turn make me want to kill someone al over again. In being the bigger person, I would be ridiculed and that does not sit well with me...ever. Secondly, because I know my sister so well, even if I were to get her to agree to speak to me and hammer things out, the conversation would be non-existent; it would be more of a monologue because I know everything she will/would/could say.
I am her own personal Jesus. I know what she is going to do, think, or say before she does. So really, there is no point in talking to her. I know what her counter arguments would be to anything I say, I know how to parry them back in her face and prove her wrong over and over and over, I know exactly what button to push to make her speak or shut up. It would be fairly one-sided, almost unfair to speak to her because I would already have heard everything.
Did I just talk myself out of doing what I started off saying I was thinking of doing? Maybe, I don't know.