I just never thought she'd be as bad with me as she is with our parents: I figured with them, she's already crossed so many limits that she now has none, whereas with me there is not as much of a history and no authority issues she'd have to deal with.
Now the worst part is her physical aggression, and I'm not sure if I've mentioned this but she is rather large - I'm several feet shorter and built very tiny. It may sound comical that a young woman of 30 would throw something at you, slap you, push you etc but she is STRONG. She threatens you with violence, and you know she won't hold back. I didn't fare too badly in that respect but let me tell you, I'd rather have a couple of bruises than the mental warfare those 72 hours meant.
It was absolutely, absolutely mind-bending. She will not only tell you hurtful things, she will do it for SEVERAL HOURS without the slightest pause, you locked in place, her yelling right into your ear "you are worthless you are worthless everybody hates you you are worthless you are worthless you are evil you are worthless" X 100. Literally. It was a nightmare. She took some breaks to tell me how, if there was one person in the city or family that didn't know how evil etc I was, she would make sure to convince them.
The day after this four-hour brain-washing marathon, she placed herself right outside my door and proceeded to call one person after another to tell them (in a loud voice so I'd hear every word) of how I was severely abusing her. Had it happened only a day before I would've gotten upset, but as it was I felt way too drained to even care and fell asleep in the middle of this game of telephone.
She will not let you shower, and then by day's end, tell you you didn't let her shower. I'd stocked up the fridge for her; nothing was good enough, and not being able to make me go buy her more stuff (note - everybody in our family KNOWS not to ever, EVER, buy anything for her: it ALWAYS ends up being the "wrong thing", and a huge tantrum ensues), she twisted this fact around in her brainwash marathon and the telephone campaign to convince both me and others that I was starving her (!). I was the one that had wrecked the apartment: I had thrown away all her things: I tried to sabotage her studies; etc.
And it's as if she truly convinces herself of this - morning after that night, she started banging and yelling about my having "turned off the internet", she had a major exam just this moment, it was online, I had somehow found out and was intentionally trying to ruin her life, etc. Obviously not one of those statements were true, but the thing is, that is precisely something SHE would do towards a person she didn't like - she simply uses any planned or perpetrated behavior as inspirational material for what she can tell other people you have done.
She'd hidden some of the things I needed to pack, and she tried to provoke a reaction from me by the internet tantrum and many, many other things all that day after: But fortunately I was so far gone with exhaustion - she wouldn't let me sleep that night, the night before, or when I got home from work - that even if I had wanted to, I couldn't say a word. I didn't, and she started calling people again about how I was bullying her with silence, but at least no major episode ensued because of it. She doesn't really need you to answer, but if you do, may a higher power help you. Anything you say can and will be used against you... What also saved me that day was her having someplace to be later and getting ready. I don't know if I'd been able to get away had she really set her mind on preventing me.
I changed my flight ticket, and now I won't be seeing her at all until she comes back in February. 100% worth the money. I'm visiting my parents, and they were going out of their minds with worry. We had a good long talk about how we feel, what to do, etc. Not only do you have the situation to deal with, but there's also that feeling of guilt - "what kind of mother/sister/father/grandmother am I to feel this bitter about difficult child?"
I have no idea in what state I'll find the apartment in. During the telephone roll call she told people they could use the apartment now I would be leaving, use my room, no problem: party, no problem. I don't particularly care about the physical things, but the cleaning up worries me after what grandma has told me about her own experience with difficult child nad having to clean up afterwards. We're talking feces, people.
Day before I left, birthday boy cousin picked me up - I'd snuck out and asked him to go have coffee with me to fill the hours before I was supposed to meet another relative - and he noticed something was wrong. Let me tell you that guy is sent from heaven. He didn't ask any questions, nothing, just proceeded to fire Discovery Channel (a mutual obsession) facts at me until I started feeling better. He figured difficult child had done something upsetting and told me he would have a talk with her - I felt mortified. If she finds out he suspects even a crumb of her behavior because of our talk, she WILL righteously punish me. I went home after that coffee break to find the older relative had come by to pick me up: I also found her talking to him, crying her eyes out, then acting AFRAID when I walked in (!!!!!!) as if I was the abuser.
We went holiday shopping with his family and I wanted to cry the entire time because of the way he kept looking at me - but I knew better and bit my tongue. I know difficult child wants things to come to a difficult child said / aninom said situation. Not only can she state her version more calmly, but in addition, I'm guessing she knows it will look more like there is a gray zone of ambiguity and also a lot of exaggeration - they would end up thinking it a family matter, two sister quarrelling over a hair brush, like that.
At the end of that family outing, alone in the car with the older relative (he's 40 and very young to his spirit - a friend and uncle in one), he told or asked me something and the dam broke. I gave him no details but just told him things were tough and I was sorry to have dragged him in: we talked for maybe two hours, both about difficult child and about his own mother. She has very similar issues, and I never knew they were that bad; he similarly hadn't guessed what difficult child was like behind closed doors. It was catharctic. It helped keep me calm and sane while packing.
I feel a little shame and regret, both for dragging him into a private conflict, and for sinking to difficult child's level by talking to him about it at all. I know those feelings are absurd and destructive, considering I NEED at least one adult to understand the situation and provide help or a safe room when she comes back, but I keep feeling I could have acted more maturely, less pathetic, by not leaning on him in this way. I feel pathetic. I feel weak. I feel a little, little more safe - it felt like he took me seriously. I don't know what difficult child told him, and I very much doubt he stopped believing in her version - I mean this is the same woman that could convince me my name was Bob, given enough time - but at least I know that, if I need to sleep at his place or some help getting away, he will be a phone call away.
Thank you all again for thinking of me, and for letting me rant and vent and huff and puff. Expressing all this sadness and frustration, sorting all the feelings, thoughts, out by writing them down, it keeps madness at bay. It makes me feel like maybe this isn't so impossible to get through.