Ra5pu7in's Journal: Happy for my sister

I got a call from my sister - the one who has been having problems. She's been seeing a therapist as well as taking drugs for anxiety attacks and depression. She recently was diagnosed as having PostTraumatic Stress Disorder. She called because she had an amazing revelation and felt she had to tell someone. She realized she isn't crazy (at least not in the straight-jacket, padded room sense) and she isn't the only one going through these kinds of things. I really hope this is a real breakthrough. I have to say I'm rather afraid it is nothing more than a momentary up from her drug cocktail (at least one of which was doubled in dosage a week past). Either way, I am very happy for her in this moment whether it lasts or not.

It is odd to hear such a different perspective on our childhood. I've always been a natural loner and very independent. She was very social and sensitive. What we went through affected me, but nowhere near as much as it did her. I know our childhood was screwed up, but I'd always thought it was just poor parenting, or at most some emotional and verbal abuse with a smattering of physical abuse. I've talked with both her and our brothers and heard some stories that make me wonder about the blanks in my own memory.

My father did believe in discipline as in "spare the rod, spoil the child". However, there is a clear difference in the few memories I have between discipline (the last paddling I got was for lying to his face) and abuse. One vivid memory I would call abuse was an occasion when our father paddled this sister demanding that she say "I love you" to our stepmother. I remember her screaming "child abuse" as she was crying and being hit repeatedly. Running through my mind was the idea that it was her fault for not just saying the words - it wasn't like they would mean anything. It's shameful to think of that now ... to know I thought at the time she at least sort of deserved the spanking. Thinking about it I realized that much of my memory lapse may not be from abuse I personally suffered so much as abuse I witnessed and felt powerless to prevent (or, worse, was complicit with).

She has many more memories of abuse than I do - ones that keep her up at night because she fears the nightmares. She told me that I used to let her share the bed with me when she had panic attacks as a kid. I don't remember that, but it does sound like the kind of thing I would do. She tells me about times our father would beat our brothers for not being quiet and going to sleep. I don't remember that, though I do recall the way we would all six of us kids go dead silent at night when our father would come out of his room asking who was still awake and talking.

I sincerely hope she continues to improve. It sounds like she's on the right track and the therapist has done a great job so far. Don't give up, sis.