Dear Friend,
This brings us to yesterday, Friday. What happened Friday? Geez. I can't remember yesterday. I remember what I made for dinner and that we watched "Interstellar". I remember that I got a phone call from a Texas number and my daughter saw it and wouldn't let me answer it in case it was my
husband's brother. It said there was a voice message left and she checked it, but found that there wasn't anything there.
Oh yes, I got my hair colored. I had held up fairly well until I left the house and then I started falling apart in the car and was wrestling to quit crying before I went in to get my hair done.
After we ate dinner and watched the movie, I started coming apart again and crying real badly. I asked my husband if we could go downstairs and watch some "Friends." He said, of course, and we and our daughter watched a couple of episodes until the Xanax I took had kicked in and I had laughed enough I was calm again.
Oh, in the afternoon I got on my email because I decided to write my oldest brother and tell him that he was mistaken. I had, in fact, written him a very long letter taking his letter apart, virtually line by line - including the line bat putting me in my place. But that I had decided that it would not beneficial for me to send it. So my email setting out my boundaries was me laying down my sword and saying I was not going to fight with him about these things any more and that, surely, there were other things to talk about.
But ... to my surprise I found that he had sent me a slightly chatty email about the sudden firing of a government official in another state. I was really happy about this and thought, "YES! He gets it!" So I write back right away providing a few tidbits of information I had and sent it to him. And THEN I saw that he had sent this email the day before I sent mine to him. So, it didn't represent anything in particular. But I still thought that my emailing him about this would let him know that I was still willing to talk to him, just not about politics, justice, or religion. And ... he hasn't written back at all. And that hurt my little five-year-old trauma-stricken self who is still looking for her older brother to take care of her and protect her pretty dad gum badly. Not as badly as the last few days, at least.
My other brother hasn't responded at all. I doubt that either of them understand that I can't afford to learn anything else about them or I won't be able to ever be around them again.
Lisa
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