Give us our Daily Bread-with a side of Eggs

Here is the thing about my sister–I love her so much. She makes me so angry and hurts my feelings, truly, like no other. But, I can’t stay mad at her. I seriously think she cannot control half of the things she does or says. I believe she suffers from years of anxiety and untreated depression. She tends to fixate on things and people and more often than not they end up hurting her. Yes, stalker tendencies.
{Sometimes I think she pushes me so I will push her back}
Unfortunately, I don’t always have the strength to do that. I will often pull her into my car and go shop. I will smoke a bowl with her and talk about nonsense. I will make her coffee and dinner and she will love it. Many days I am looking for that companionship more than she is. So I continue to putz along and try to keep everybody happy.
Dee was telling me about the areas that she can afford apartments in. They are all in the weird farawayish areas. That probably means she won’t come downstairs for coffee on Christmas morning. Dee comes downstairs for coffee every morning.
{She is 32 and does not own a coffee pot}
I know she won’t be able to afford a fridge full of food and she won’t be eating out of my pantry daily. Give us our daily bread-with a side of eggs,is a regular thing here at The Big Blue House. When I cook I always cook for at least five. That’s conservative. I spend a ton of money on food. I try to shop with my sister and her two kids, my mother in law and brother in law in mind.  I like to have something that any one of them would like to eat, on hand–at any time. I love to feed my family. It makes me very happy and it really is one of Dee’s favorite things. I will miss that.

I will not miss her rage. I will not miss the tension. I will not miss her utter disdain for my husband, who by all means (as recently as yesterday said he does not hate my sister) has tried with every last cell in his lanky ass body tp make peace over the years. The tension that fills my house from top to bottom when she is on edge, in a mood, afraid, angry, hyper, sad, lonely, tired.

I will not miss, the pit in my stomach when I see a tell. A door slam, a facial expression. Waiting for the next episode to happen. The old waiting for the other shoe to drop. I am in a constant state of walking on eggshells, trying to keep the adults in my house just okay. I don’t even always strive for happy anymore, just sated. Too much work on a constant basis.
{It’s like being that woman who is trying to be the fattest woman in the world and doing stairs all day. Who by the way, she’s an asshole}
I suppose at this point it is self preservation for my family and my sanity. I committed to them. I don’t think my sister understands the commitment I have to my husband. I don’t think she has the comprehension level to understand our relationship. I am sure she thinks it is all about the money. She thinks I am spoiled. Yes, quite frankly I usually get what I want. So what. The first thirty years I got a bunch of heartache & bruises. I am just smart enough to start a family with somebody who loves and respects me AND can support me and his children. That is a quality and an asset in my beliefs not a character defect.

Dee is boxing up her stuff and I will measure and start renovations.

{I need to keep them safe and secure.  It’s my job}

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