I've decided to try a weekly format for my therapeutic letter writing. I suppose there is a chance I'll resolve all my issues and run out of letters to write, but somehow I doubt that will happen.
What I hope happens is that I begin to have an easier time expressing my emotions and let off some steam. I don't have a strict format but plan to write letters to whomever about whatever, expressing some hard, negative feelings as well as sharing gratitude and positive feelings; anything to keep my emotional pipes unclogged and free flowing.
With that all in mind, here's my first "Monday Missive." We'll just have to wait and see where this takes us :)
We've had a rocky history. A rocky history that I fully accept partial responsibility for, but only partial. Lately I've come to realize that I've borne too much blame for the tension between us, too much guilt and too much sadness.
The origins and history of these extra burdens is unimportant, but what happens now as I accept my awareness of these pains is important. It's important for you to know that I'm done investing hope in you. It's important for you to know that I'm drawing a line, building a moat on that line and creating some distance between us.
For too many years I've thrown my well being under the bus because I thought it was owed under some twisted familial obligation. Well, no longer. I'm not the worthless snot rag of our family and I don't have to endlessly listen and advise without any reciprocation or repayment. I have a right to take care of myself first and I'm invoking it. I'm not going to wait around hoping that things change any longer.
All these feelings are exacerbated by recent events, mostly your untimely pregnancy and ridiculous engagement. I am disappointed in you. Not just for the violation of family standards (it rankles me to no end how much shit you talk about our cousin that conceived out of wedlock and then subsequently married the immature baby-daddy and yet here you are mirroring her mistakes to a T) but also for the selfish way you carry out your pregnancy like a reality TV show with hardly any perceivable concern for you child's welfare.
I still can't believe that you are a moron but it's either that or you are completely deluded about the situation you have created for yourself. I tend to think you, like our mother, avoid reality as much as possible. That is disappointing and frustrating to no end, but slightly better than you being a complete imbecile.
Why does this matter? Because I feel pressure to partake in your delusion and I am not interested. As far as I'm concerned, your pregnancy and engagement are facets of a quarter-life train wreck and I, for one, am not going to be merrily sipping champagne when the train chugs off a cliff. I just don't need this shit.
I'm not interested in feeding your need for attention or entertaining your romanticisms about the mess that you've made. I acknowledge the fact that everything could turn out well, your child may not have a horrible childhood and your marriage (assuming it even begins) may not be a complete sham, but I truly doubt this and anticipate a barrage of stressors from the fallout of your train wreck to befall me and my family.
Again, I'm not interested. I'm not interested in advising, listening, troubleshooting, enabling, or rehashing any of your drama. I will not feel guilty for avoiding you and the stress you represent to me and I will not feel bad for putting myself and my family first.
I am digging this mother fuckin' moat and if ever there comes a day when it becomes troublesome, I accept those repurcussions as a result of my decision to distance myself from you at this juncture and I'll accept responsibility, but for now, I will savor the peace my safe space gives me.
I hereby relinquish any hope or expectation for us to be sisterly sisters and simply accept that we happen to be related and occasionally in close physical proximity. I will be decent and helpful when I can but retain the right to be a downright bitch as necessary in order to protect my well being and that of my family.