Here I am in a winter wonderland, gorgeous thick chuncks of snow falling from the sky, sometimes sunshine to brighten the whole world, good friends, a job, a small place to live—a humble yet a good life. I'm not pulled down by the snow, the cold, the dark, the language barrier, the fact that I want my own house and garden, the uncertainty of everything; no, none of that bothers me. But here I am, sitting despondently at my half-moon-shaped table, uninterestedly sipping my earl grey and spooning tahini out of a glass jar, wondering if there is any hope.
The world can be so unfair at times. Why am I here, living a good, humble life and my sister is there suffering through mild domestic violence, and chaos? What is fair about that? I escaped, so to speak, to live my life, and to start being a bit more selfish, because I no longer had the energy to carry everything on my back and take her under my wing. I have always assumed the responsibility for everything and just couldn't handle it anymore. There wasn't time or energy for a tribute to an "I," and when I attempted to think of myself, I just got blamed for not giving enough support. No, I had to leave and start my life and I don't regret my decision, but I am aching for my little sister's sake. I wish there was something I could do, but even if I were to fly across the world I couldn't change anything. And that is the worst feeling ever.
When she calls you in dire need of support; because she's just seen her dad strangling her mom, been thrown down the stairs by him, called the cops and had everything denied by her parents and watched the police leave in annoyance of the bluff call, and then been locked in her room. Nobody to believe her, nobody to care whether the environment is destroying her heart and mind, and her only rational "parent" is on the other side of the world in a Scandinavian winter paradise in her own world at last... Wow, I feel like a terrible person for abandoning her like a dog not worth adopting. But what can I do? I've never done this "me-thing" and I have to, or I'm going to decay in a depressed and stressed home and die at the age of 30 from too much pressure and control.
Control, something my mother has striven her whole life to own and possess. It cannot be done, but damn, that woman has gotten close. Not just control over what we all eat and wear, how thick or thin we are, when we're allowed to do what and in which room, whether or not we can have friends over, or when we're allowed to open the blinds, which door to go through, how to act when passing through a toll-booth , how to smile, how to stand, when to cough, when to not play with our hair etc; but how we're allowed to feel, how to react, who we can be friends with, who my dad can speak with, what we should be interested in... We've tried to rebel, but obviously that doesn't work. So we've learned to manipulate and use reverse psychology, methods of distractions. We've learned to hide and sneak and be stealthy and cunning. But now I'm gone and can't help my sister anymore. She's lost her ally and I'm so sorry for it, because she's suffering, stuck all alone in that wretched place and no big sister to absorb the insults thrown around.
So here I am, sitting with my half-cold earl-grey and a tahini-crusted spoon resting on a brochure for a copper IUD(which I'm getting tomorrow), on my half-moon-shaped-table, at my stone windowsill, overlooking the heaps of snow in the twilight, pledging to never have children that I don't want and won't care for. And hypocritically enough, I'm on the brink of exercising an immense amount of control, birth control. It's so twisted in a way, to mess with "Mother Nature," but looking at my life and my sister's life and the state that our mother is in.... And now, I'm not sure if it's even her fault, but the consequences of poor choices mixed with an unsupportive society. She blames her father, her egyptian stalker, her once-upon-a-time-criminal-lover who stole her money because the economy of the world was unjust and so on and on and on and on the blame goes, always ending up in somebody else's lap. Sometimes it lands in mine and I wish I were never born. "She should have just aborted me" is a thought I've had too often for it to be a joke. I mean, I'm grateful for being alive, but sometimes I wish I could have been born into a simpler life.
I take the suffering and burden with as much grace as possible, and I think I've made it out okay. But it sheds a scary light on unwanted pregnancies and though I find birth control controversial to some of my true beliefs, I will never bring such a mess to the world as the one my parents and sister seem to be stuck in, the one I fought to free myself from. I could cry, but it's just true. I don't not want to get pregnant for my own sake per se, but because I've first-handedly experienced the feeling as an accident-baby born to an irresponsible 22-year-old. And my sister, if only she could have been spared. I sometimes think she had it even worse that I did....
My mom thinks I'm soo much like her. Whenever I tell her stories about what I'm doing, she jumps to enlighten me that, "you're exactly the way I was when I was your age. OMG, I can't believe how you're following my footsteps! Like mother like daughter! He he he!" My face freezes whenever she pulls that out and I have to flash her the fakest of smiles that I can muster up, because it is my life goal to be as unlike her as possible (in most ways, of course she has her great things and I do love her, believe it or not...). No, I really don't think I'm on the path to becoming a shoe-collecting, semi-hoarder who blacks out her room and sleeps in into the afternoon, and who doesn't even know her daughter's (my) address, though I've given it to her countless times. I sincerely hope that my children never feel that way about me. Though I've immigrated to a new country, just like she did, I won't be doing it with the responsibility of offspring. That is such a significant difference between us. I will not be getting pregnant and then dragging my child(ren) through a whirlwind of life's dark corners and shining spires. One day, if possible, I hope to have children in a stable environment, and hopefully with just one father. But look at that, that's control too... planning and deciding and trying to squeeze my future into a neat little tube, hoping to avoid similar mistakes. Ah, the hypocrisy.....
(NOTE: I apologize and don't mean to insult any single/ struggling parents out there with any of these situations...)
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