But before you drink to that, let me tell you about the week I’ve had.
On Monday morning (or was it Tuesday?) I woke up around 6 AM and made the grave mistake of skimming over my Facebook timeline, knowing that once I open my eyes or make any sudden movements, I’ll be incapable of going back to sleep. I saw that my sister had updated her status within the last couple of hours, raging that she was “f****** done being stressed out” and wanted to kill herself.
My sister has been going through cycles like these for such a long time. Even though I feel more and more exhausted each time, I know that I can’t ignore her. My sister has been struggling with mental health issues for as long as even I can remember: I knew that something was off before she was officially diagnosed, and wayyy before she was institutionalized. After all of this time, it literally feels like she’s been standing on the ledge of a skyscraper window for more than 20 years, threatening to jump, and that I’m one of the few people still standing hundreds of feet below trying to reason with her.
And I’m fucking tired. I love her so much, but I am fucking tired.
She didn’t answer my phone call then, and she didn’t answer when I tried again just a few minutes ago. It’s a little after 7 PM my time in Hawaii and just past midnight where she’s at in Ohio. My dad said she posted on Facebook that she was in the hospital and would return his call when she’s done. However, it’s been 3 or 4 days now and his calls went straight to voicemail. The fact that when I called it actually rang until going to voicemail is a good sign. It tells me that she’s got her phone and is probably using it.
I’ve known for a few years now that my sister’s cycles were going to rear their ugly little heads harder than we’ve seen in almost a decade. She was recently released from prison in August of 2015 after serving five years. She’s put forth a good deal of effort to move forward and even has a second chance at motherhood, but it’s tough watching her constantly cave under the pressure.
Sometimes I feel so selfishly angry, but the truth is that I just want better for my sister. As protective as I am about her, I really have no control over how she chooses to live her life and it frustrates me because it stresses me out. I really do love her, but shit like this is probably why I start to go crazy whenever I go six months without taking a vacation.