I Wish It Had Been Me Too…

My sister died two weeks ago.  Both of us had struggled with depression all our lives, but found different ways to deal with it… which caused us to have little in common the last few years.  We had been communicating again and on good terms since summer, but had not actually seen each other (except when she was in the ICU) since a family get-together about two years ago.

At that event there was drama, which I loathe, and a lot of misunderstanding and misrepresentation of a letter I’d written her saying I was just completely burned out, used up, and could not function any more trying so hard to help her while dealing with my own issues.  I wasn’t trying to be a jerk ~ the stress was literally making me physically and mentally ill.  And she seemed determined on a path of destruction.

Anyway, I held my ground, prayed hard & often, and many wonderful changes came about.  For this I am truly, truly grateful.

I will not go deeply into this long, complicated and convoluted series of events or the equally complicated history.  I think that would require a book!

But my sister died two weeks ago, and it was merciful she did not suffer more than she did.  I was grateful we had gotten on better terms before her sudden and fatal illness.  My heart is broken, but I began to grieve my loss of her about two years ago when it was necessary for me to reduce contact to a minimum for my own health (and to encourage her to get the help she needed.)  I have been mourning this loss for years now ~ but am also at peace with how things worked out this last year.

For the rest of our large family, whom I spent the Thanksgiving evening with, their loss is more sudden and shocking.  It was strange to be there among them, knowing I was the much less preferred daughter, sister, aunt.  A poor and pitiful substitute for the one they really wanted to spend the day with.

Considering how many serious suicide attempts I’ve made, how much damage my body has undergone… it is a bit baffling that she passed first, only 6 years older than me.  My mother talked about her, cried, mentioned her in the group prayer… and yet I had to tap her on the shoulder to get a hug before she left.  (I have been “non-existant” for SO long!)  Maybe I was just being weird, but there sure seemed to be the feeling of “too bad it was her and not you” ~ and by the end of the evening I was fully in agreement.  I doubt any of them would be upset much if it WAS me.  It would affect my children for a while, and my husband, but I don’t think anyone else would really care.  It would be gotten over quickly and without much distress… more like when a pet hamster dies.  (Though I did cry for two days when MY hamster died.)

I feel so empty.  So alone.  So much a misfit with those it seems I should have more of a bond with.  I want to tell my mom I’m sorry the wrong daughter died ~ and I would change places if I could.  I’ve surely tried hard to end my life ~ just failed again and again.  Like I failed to ever gain her approval for anything.  Of course I can’t do that or even say it.  She’d likely just get defensive and angry and think me stupid… but if I could trade places, I would.  I would give them what/who they want, because even if I am nothing to them, they mean a lot to me.

I wonder if it would be better if neither of us were here, but I really don’t think my existance matters enough to be a blip on the screen of life.  It would neither make them feel any better nor any worse.  All in vain I’ve tried to be the *good* daughter, the good aunt, the good sister, the one who isn’t any bother.  Nobody cares.  That hurts a bit.