Skeleton #6: Cinderella Can't Go to the Ball
I have horrible guilt. This skeleton is very painful in the sense that there isn't anything I can do to change this situation. I hide the pain inside and try to avoid confronting it at all costs. I have a sister that is handicapped. The term I heard growing up was "minimal brain dysfunction/emotionally impaired with severe learning disabilities". This diagnosis was made in the 1970s, and my parents never had any of it updated. She's never had a CT scan, an MRI, nothing. I suspect she is closer to some sort of high functioning autism, but her people skills are so much different than autism. Her routine is so regimented, it reminds me of Rain Main with a little obsessive-compulsive disorder, but she is different in some ways. I'll never know the truth.
My sister is four years older than me. It was essentially like growing up with someone your own age, and then later, like a younger sister. We didn't have the same relationship as "normal" sisters would have, and I'm glad our relationship unfolded the way it did.
As you've probably read in Skeleton #1 we didn't have the best of parents. My sister had behavioral problems growing up by throwing temper tantrums. I have the clear memory of trying to go to sleep, and they were holding her door shut and trying to lock it with the skeleton key. My sister pulled her chair over and took her hands and pried the top of the solid oak door, and could pop the mechanism open. This was only if my father didn't lock the door. All the while she is screaming and crying hysterically, begging for them not to lock the door, and I'm sitting in my room writing in my journal everything being said. Why did I do that? I did it because I know it happened, and I wanted to remember it happened. It was like documenting it to prove it happened. I prayed to God to give us new parents. I cried for her. I cried for me. I cried for the both of us trapped in that house with only each other for comfort.
I used to be jealous of her when I was little. She got to ride horses in a handicapped horseback riding program. She competed in the local fair and won trophies and first place ribbons. I was sort of forgotten. Shoved aside. I wanted to ride horses. I wanted to compete. One day when I begged my mom and said it wasn't fair C got to ride horses. My mom flatly said,
"This is her turn to get attention. Trust me, when you're older, you will be getting more attention and your sister will be in the back seat. You will drive, and she won't be able to. You'll have events to go to, and she won't be able to participate. Be patient."
I don't know why that clicked for me at age ten, but it did. I was happy for C and all of her awards. We had each other. We would survive together.
We spent hours over the years, exploring the woods where we grew up. I taught her how to ride a bike, and soon, we were exploring places further from our house together. It was so much fun. Of course I'd dare her to do things, only after I did them first. She never wanted to get into trouble, but she never told on me. We were secretive and no matter how much she was grilled and threatened, she would never tell on me. Never.
When she would get slapped or dragged by her hair up the stairs, I was there to comfort her. When I was locked out of the house, she unlocked a window so I could get back in. I remember our second story bedroom windows where angled such that we could talk to each other, even if we couldn't see each other. When she or I were locked in our room, we'd open our windows and comfort each other through the screen. We would talk about our dreams, and what we were going to do the next day.
When I went off to college, I knew eventually that I would take care of C. I wanted to. In my second year of college, she came up and spent a week with me in my apartment. We had so much fun together! Rented movies, took her to Pinball Pete's in downtown East Lansing, and had take-out pizza. It was like we were together just like old times. She and I were so close, that when I got married, she was my maid of honor. I wouldn't have it any other way. Over the years, I started to notice something odd.
After I got married, I would ritualistically have her come up to stay with me twice a year. Every time, I would call and ask my parents, specifically my mother, for permission, I was met with the usual, "Well, if your sister doesn't get off her ass and clean her room, she's not going anywhere." More and more the excuses became bizarre, "Your sister has to quit her mumbling and get the housework done," or "She bad-mouthed me yesterday, so she's not going anywhere."
Seriously, at that point my sister was in her 30s. It was like Cinderella had work to do and couldn't go to the ball. I knew the abuse was continuing at home. I'd seen her get slapped or my mom gouge her nails in the back of my sister's arm. I can't even go into the emotional abuse. I wanted to do something about it. I wanted to become her guardian. I soon found that the abuse is difficult to prove when the county comes in and interviews my sister in front of my parents. I was stuck. I could get a lawyer and make a huge mess and try to have her yanked out of that house. I knew this would be difficult to do because of my own health, the fact that I don't have a room for her, and the cost of a lawyer. Then, take into effect my sister's emotional well-being. She loved being near the lake. She loved gardening. She loved the woods. What would I have to offer? How would she feel if I took her away from mom and dad? She would need counseling. How would I integrate her into our family with my children?
I had to admit defeat. There was nothing I could do. I left her behind in that mess. She just turned 44, and I'm scared to even think about what will happen if one or both of my parents die. It will be a legal nightmare involving an ex brother-in-law (millionaire and guardian of my parent's and her estate), my own brother and sister-in-law, my other estranged sister, and myself. It's a fucking mess, and just thinking about it, I feel such a sense of despair. I feel physically ill with widespread pain everywhere. I literally hurt for her. Even when I call her, she says she misses me. She asks when I will see her next, and why don't I see her more often?
The fact is, I am trying to stay away from my parents. They're pathological, and I'm struggling as it is to prove to myself that they don't run my life anymore. Now, they have my sister as hostage. They control her comings and goings. There's always an excuse why she can't come see me. Always an excuse as to why I can't talk to her. It's getting to the point where I'm going to have to create a mess and demand visitation. I just don't have it in me. I'm afraid of the fight. I'm afraid of the horrible mess it will cause. I feel trapped and guilty.
I can't free Cinderella. I'm not her fairy godmother. I wish I had the magic wand. Then it wouldn't hurt so badly. She is my secret pain. My guilt of leaving her behind to still live with them. I am so scared if I even tried to fight through the court system for her, she eventually wouldn't choose me. So every time I see her, I say a silent prayer for peace, and sit down for a game of Monopoly with her. I've never won a game yet. She always kicks my ass.
Posted by kitterztoo at 3/13/2010 8:14 PM 
Categories: Skeletons, Family
Tags: parents emotional sister memories blog skeleton abuse secrets emotions secret family friends
Categories: Skeletons, Family
Tags: parents emotional sister memories blog skeleton abuse secrets emotions secret family friends
I think maybe that you should go talk to a lawyer about visitation rights. Not sure if you legally have any but why not ask? That can't hurt. If you do have a right then force the issue. Its another step up on your parents showing them they don't control the situation anymore. It will empower you! Good Luck and big hugs to you for being so strong! =)
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What fozzy said.
And in addition, I don't know how you do it.
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I am so very heartbroken for you. For your own pain and suffering and for the suffering you have about your sister. But you can only do what you can do. You do what is possible and you have done your best. Just keep loving. Hugs (w/out touching cuz I remember).
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