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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 659540" data-attributes="member: 18958">This is a form of torture.  In my mind's eye I see this happening in the Dirty War in Argentina or Uruguay, not with little kids in their home tucked in at night.We should have a war crimes tribunal, like the Judgment at Nuremberg or for Milosevic and the Serbs.I think this is exactly so, Cedar. She left that hospital in defeat, really, now that I think of it. Even though she defined it as something else, she retreated.I think you are right Cedar, but there is something more, that is very hard for me to grasp.I think the best point in my sister's life with respect to me was in my late teen years. I had been completely beaten down in my family, and she had thrived. I had not yet developed an identity outside of the family, to counteract my defeat within it. As I look back that was the time my relationship with my sister was the best. Because she was ascendant and I was defeated.  She had me where she wanted me.When life outside the family began to treat her badly, is when it seems that her sadism towards me became more manifest.Remember, Cedar and SWOT, my sister defines herself as a very important person. A VIP. Important and esteemed in her work. (NOT) High status in the community, as defined by her profession and her home (NOT).The reality is something different. In her last job they came to despise her I think because she was abusive to any body she could abuse.  Towards the end she said they told her she was an embarrassment. She felt no exposure or shame to tell me this. She was so defended from seeing, understanding or feeling responsibility for her acts that she gave not one iota of importance to what they thought about her.At the time I was stunned by this, how she could tell me what to me would bring forth the greatest shame and humiliation.  I left it there because I could not make any sense of the strangeness of this comment and her affect surrounding it.Now I see that with this she was telling me exactly who she is. And here was illuminated all of the times she had hurt me and others without one bit of remorse or second thought.She is completely convinced in her rightness and in her blamelessness.  She is untouchable. Teflon. She feels completely entitled and righteous in whatever she does. And she rejects any criticism of her abuse. Because she immediately deflects any criticism back to the accuser, and in her mind any responsibility for wrongs is theirs. Just like Rachel Dolezal.But my sister found another job and in this one there is security. And there are titles and power. She can hire and fire. She is free to do what she will to others. And I am certain she will abuse. And I think that is part of the reason that I cannot yet turn away from this train wreck. She keeps coming out not only unscathed but rewarded. Just like Rachel Dolezal who it seems will now get her own reality show, where her fraudulent self can pass judgment on others. Regardless of what is true or right. And it does not make sense.So I think I keep looking at Zillow and Neighborhoodscout.com (my favorite, because it zooms in and tells the truth about a place) not just because I am hypnotized by the danger and the fire *my mother was a fire engine chaser, but because I do not understand why she continues to prevail.  Because even though I am stunned by her triumph, I know it is a charade. And I watch and watch, I think, waiting for the truth of the image to reveal itself.And I understand that it will never change in those pictures. That it must change in me. It will come from a decision to accept the truth.I forced myself to go to the Physical Therapist today, even though I woke up so defeated and hurt and alone.When I left I went to Barnes and Noble thinking I might find there my son.And went to buy some potted herbs and when I left the parking lot, there was a program on public radio about suicide. About taking seriously that possibility, for others.And I began to cry because I recognized there was something in me that identified with killing myself. Not to die.But I knew I could not because the paperwork for the trust to protect my son still I have not signed. And part of me knew that by posting as I have been doing, about my sister, must merit a kind of death penalty. And is it not so perfectly fitting that it would come at my own hand?I am picking fights with M. The same old stuff. And I cannot find my son and there is nothing to say when I do.And I felt like my whole life has been exposed to be a fraud and fake, and more to the point I am the fraud and and the fake, and I may be left standing but what do I have? I guess a lot. When I think about it.And not to put pressure on you guys, I do not mean to do that.I came home and I found your responses. And I read I was a hero in my life. And had stainless steel implements.  And I am strong, as well as weak. And that I came through for my Mother.So, I called M and with that, changed things a little bit. And he will go to his sister's and try to call my son from that number, to see if that same recording comes on.What I am trying to tell you both is: thank you, and that I am grateful beyond measure.So, just a couple of hours later, having read through your posts, I feel a little stronger.  At least not hating myself so much.And in my bed is okay, for today.I will try to be gentle with myself, while I think about SWOT and Cedar, their strength, loyalty and love, resilience, humor, hope, faithful commitment, and friendship. Thank you.PS M called my son's number and got a recording.Well, what did it say, I asked in Spanish.I dunno, he replied. Well how do we know if it is the same message?My brother is here (who speaks English.) I'll ask him to call. OK.So, it looks like any number is getting the same message. Not just me. Which is a relief. A bit of a relief. And M's sister saw him today walking down Main st.If I try real hard I can think there will another chance. A future. If I try hard.</blockquote>

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