London: day fifty

Struggled my way through a Psychology midterm today and emerged on the other side more or less intact…I think. I felt confident about a good deal, but after checking my notes after the exam, I realized that I did make a few big mistakes. It’s aggravating to realize that and it took me a while to cool down a bit and realize it is no longer in my control – at least I have a better idea of what the next exam will look like, and I’ll do better then. On my way back I stopped at the grocery store and loaded up on some food for the week – trying to go with some healthy options this time, and absolutely anything but PB&J’s (I am not going to want to even look at a PB&J for a LONG while after this semester is over). Later, Tula and I hung out a bit and watched Sherlock, so that was a good way to wind down a day after a difficult exam.

***

You know, this year I have had my home completely altered by the divorce, have had the hope and image of a future spent with a man I loved completely torn up, I have lost large pieces of my faith and am still trying to figure out what to do with the skeleton that has been left, I don’t know what I want or what to hope for anymore, and it seems as though everything I thought most secure has disintegrated, leaving me alone with the person I despise most of all – myself.

And it hasn’t been pretty.

Still isn’t.

But, through it all, there has been one very distinct thing I have held onto and have not let go of since the beginning of it; make sure my sister is okay. Like I told her on the day that I was given the news about the divorce, she was my priority. I like to hope that I did alright being there for her even though I was physically removed. We have talked more than we have ever before and on a different level. We’ve grown significantly closer to one another through all the shit we’ve faced this past year together. As the older sibling though, there comes a sort of innate sense of responsibility to watch out for the younger (even if she does grow to be taller than you :P lol). I have tried to do that in many ways throughout our childhood, but as happens with kid siblings, not everything goes smoothly all the time, and into my teenage years I was definitely not as attentive to her as I should have been. Something I wish I’d done better now, but which, at the time, there were reasons for. Still, there’s never been anyone I’ve loved or cared about more. So I have made it my top priority to ensure that I am there for her now and that I always will be.

But that hasn’t been easy. The same demons that kept me distant from her during my high school years have been pulling on me harder than ever before, and there’s a lot in me that I’ve had to fight against so that I can remain accessible to her, especially due to physical distance. And I’m tired. Exhausted to my core, and just so tired of fighting this thing in my head just so that I can keep doing the right thing. But watching out for her, having that reason to keep fighting, is the only thing that has gotten me through. I couldn’t have gotten through any of it if I didn’t have that. Because I don’t care if I get better, if I heal, if I pick up the pieces and move forward; I just don’t, and that’s the truth of it. But I care that she does. I need her to. So I have to get better, I have to heal, I have to pick up the pieces, and I have to move forward, because I need to be there to make sure that she does. She’s my little sister, the one I still picture as a kid who follows me around wherever I go and copies everything I do, with that big smile, round cheeks, and big, sparkling blue eyes.

But last night I was reminded that she’s not a little kid anymore.

She’s grown up into the strongest, most caring, most talented, and most beautiful person I know or have ever known.

And I couldn’t be more proud of her.

Because in watching out for her, I have forgotten that she watches out for me too. And I haven’t realized it. I’ve been too concerned with giving her the advice I personally haven’t been able to follow myself, and hiding the parts of myself that would make me look weak. Because she needs someone strong to look up to. How can I help her if I have all these screwed up things that I am constantly trying to deal with too? And if she copies me, like she did when she was a kid…I could imagine nothing more devastating. Because I don’t want her to be like me – I want her to be better than me. So, in my mind, I have been one half, a guiding voice, and the other half, an example of what not to do. But I have forgotten something. I know her so well that I can read her actions and emotions like an open book, I can sometimes even accurately guess what she’s doing at that moment even from a state away, and I know forwards and backwards what will make her smile and laugh or what will annoy or aggravate her. But, you see, what I have forgotten is that she knows me just as well. And she always has.

Every time I have tried to keep up that stronger older sibling façade, she has seen right through it. And she has tried just as hard to be there for me as I have for her. She knows even the darker sides that I have always tried to hide the most from her more than anyone else. And I didn’t even know until she told me last night. I didn’t know that she was aware of what I struggle with. I didn’t know that she was watching out for me. I didn’t know that she understood me more than anyone else ever has.

I didn’t know that she thought I was brave…

Because even I don’t think that of myself.

And I still can’t quite believe it.

But to know that she has been there, still, when no one else has; it’s terrifying and relieving at the same time. Because I am so grateful that I have her as my sister, and am so proud of her. Because if she has grown to be someone who can have faith in me; then she is stronger than I am, and I couldn't wish for anything better than that. But I am also filled with anxiety of my ruse being shown for what it is. Because, I have a few years on her yes, and do have a responsibility for her because it’s my job as an older sibling to look out for her, but at the same time, I don’t have shit figured out myself. I’m fumbling and stumbling through, making it up as I go along; I’m not an expert. But part of me still feels like, in order for her to be able to look up to me, I need to be the example of having it figured out, because I can’t let her down. But for the first time last night, I was the one listening to her and taking in what she had to tell me, without really being able to reply. This connection doesn’t go one way, and it doesn’t have to. That’s what she taught me. Because we’re two halves of one person, and nothing has the power to change that.