The Little Sister Saga Part 2

So my next part of my letting off steam about my sister.

I found out from a close relation, who stumbled upon her weblog, and apparently she had mentioned about wishing that someday her family will be off for a long holiday so that she can have her break. And she was really nasty about things.

I actually laughed. To think that she wished for that when she’s afraid to even stay home alone at night. But nonetheless, I suggest she pray hard so that someday that will come true.

I am still fucking mad about her implications that I’m some kind of slut who’s lost herself to some guy/s, but to think of it, -hey, that’s a shameless fitnah, and I could use some pahala, if you know what I mean. The truth remains I have not found the man I’m ready to sleep with.

The fact that she questioned and compared about my mother’s trust on her daughters is absolutely outrageous. The fact that she wonders why I am allowed to do certain things, and she wasn’t is just as ridiculous.

Did she miss the obvious reason? The fact that there is a seven year gap between us? And the fact that when I’m in my 30s, she’ll just be at the door of embarking her career?

In that seven years, a million things happen. My mother has seen me through every one of it, and she had seen me at my worst. But what does my little sister know back then? Collecting stickers? Writing autograph books?

I was at my lowest point when I was 19. I fell into a deep hole of depression, and even my friends back then thought I was cracked. Most gave up on me. I did horrible things to myself, and every night I’ll find some space somewhere to break myself down. My parents knew something was not right about me, but they took their time. Quite honestly, waking up the next morning was the worse thing to come.

Out of desperation to be out of my state, I personally went to my mother and told her I need help. I need professional help badly, and I need medication to stop my pain. Instead, my mother had refused. She refused to take me anywhere, and she told me something that had pissed me off back then.

But it was one hell of an advice. It was one thing that proved mothers know best. She said, -you’re only 19, and what sort of problems can you be having that is so severe? If you can’t handle things now, what makes you think you can handle bigger things later on? Are you going to run back to medication every time things don’t work out?

For the next few months, I actually grew worst. No one saw it, but my mother. No one was there when I woke up one morning at 5am, crawling out of my room with tears down my face, and my mother caught me right at the door. When she asked what was wrong, I pointed to my throat saying I need to throw up. She grabbed a plastic bag where I emptied my stomach, and she practically dragged me back to the bed.

It was then when she brought me to the doctor.

It was a painful recovery for me, as the doctor’s medication was pretty useless cos I threw up everything I ate for that week or so. But I made it. I went through it, and my mother has seen me fell and broke apart, and then got up again.

And having said all these, my little sister thinks she knows everything I’ve done? Everything that I’ve went through? She thinks she knows more about me than my own mother?

My advice is, think again.