and they were always at work when it happened.
the part i hated most is that her main target was always my second oldest sister, who NEVER hurt anyone. an absolute gem of a person - diligently hardworking, incredibly smart, graduated second in her HS class, went on to earn —
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a full scholarship to college. i still find her so admirable. and i don't know how she managed it all with the constant uncalled-for abuse. it always made me feel so disgusted, full of silent hatred and vengeance to watch it happen, but i was always too paralyzed to do anything.—
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so one day i finally did. i was about 17, i believe. i heard my eldest sister verbally bullying her upstairs while she was trying to study for an important exam. i couldn't bear the familiar feeling of dread and anger; i knew how this sh*t unfolded so often in the past, —
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so i gathered the courage to go upstairs & angrily yell, "LEAVE HER ALONE. SHE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO YOU!"
her unhinged violence got turned on me, and within minutes i found myself sprawled on the couch, her on top of me, my hair being pulled out as she physically assaulted me.—
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i was SO lucky that a friend of my parents' was nearby, and came to see what was happening. his presence was an absolute blessing. because when she had assaulted me and my other sisters in the past, no one else was around to witness. we'd tell our parents after they'd come home —
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from work, but they'd always downplay it and tell us to just be nice to her (i now see this as an extremely negligent form of abuse on their part).
now that finally an "outsider" was seeing it go down, and was horrified, i finally felt vindicated. i finally felt SEEN. —
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anyways, that abusive sister left home suddenly soon after i left to japan 4 years ago. my parents, especially mom, were upset that she'd gone, whereas i was relieved and indifferent. as a child i remember literally fantasizing about k*lling her, after repeatedly witnessing —
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her inflict completely unearned violence on the sister who i loved dearly (sometimes to the point of a black eye, busted lip), and harass us unprovoked.
when i woke up from that dream this morning, i finally let myself cry out in rage. i let myself punch my blanket as i yelled,—
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playing out the revenge i desired so badly as a kid. while feeling deeply all those emotions i never let myself fully feel (in part due to being gaslit about it all by our parents for so long).
i don't have a neat and pretty ending to conclude this with. —
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even as i type i still feel bits of rage coursing through me.
but i am grateful that i now feel i have the inner resources to work with these feelings. to express them in a way that's bringing relief. to not feel so overwhelmed anymore. i'd been carrying this burden for so long.
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