I was way different from my sister.
Whereas I grew up alone and without love, she grew up surrounded by parents who loved her so much and showered that love on her unconditionally.
I learned most of what I knew the hard way but she had loving parents to teach her from their experiences.
I was this girl who wore skimpy clothes, attended night parties, saw nothing bad in going out or coming home late in the night. My sister was like the opposite of that. She didn’t wear grungy clothes but what she wore was never in any way skimpy. She didn’t go out after past seven in the evening talk less of going to a night club.
I was usually high spirited and I never let words hurt me no matter how wicked or cruel they were. My parents called this arrogance and recalcitrance a number of times but I knew I wasn’t.
My parents believed all of this to be true about me but what they didn’t know was that I bought the skimpy dresses because they were always cheaper than the longer ones. I wasn’t rude or recalcitrant in any way, not caring was the only way I could find happiness or be happy.
I went to night clubs because I didn’t have any friends, I was never allowed to play with the neighbouring kids and whenever I wanted to bearound people, the club was the perfect den for people like me.
I was never allowed to eat with the family, I ate in my room.
I was never taken to the hospital when I got sick, the local auxiliary nurse took care of me and had been taking care of me since I was just a slip of a child.
Whenever I thought of these things, i always had apanic attack from the pain it brought me. I’ve suffered a lot in their hands, and not caring or pretending not to care was the only way I could survive. It was the only way I ever survived.
Survival for me was going to be hell now, if not even impossible.