Thursday, January 23, 2014

Tough

When life is going beautifully for me... of course it must get fucked up by the ONE group of people who can destroy me:
Family.
Nice.

My favorite part of the downfall? That it was done publicly, on good ol' Facebook.
Perfect venue to have others LAUGH at me... and of course, add their two cents.

I love public ridicule. I love how it follows me.

It was made painfully obvious to the world that my brother knows NOTHING about me... and it was made obvious to ME that my sister does not CARE about all the bullshit I put up with in the sake of keeping her safe... keeping her from hurting anywhere near as bad as I did.
She sided with my brother, and laughed along with the rest of her friends-- nothing new there... so I don't know why I'm crying so hard... maybe I expected her to change?

It sucks to know that the one human I spent so much of my life protecting and literally holding her hand through life so she wouldn't get hurt doesn't appreciate it, much less acknowledge it in front of her friends... maybe just me... but never in public.
I would let others beat the shit out of me and humiliate me in public for years, without me saying a single word... and just going home as quietly as possible... putting on a brave face... as though life was just... normal and boring. A quiet, boring little world, the one I presented...
But the moment my sister did anything similar to a WHIMPER, I'd be up and running, looking for blood.

Why wouldn't I fight back? I don't know... maybe I didn't think I deserved to be defended? I don't know. I'd just... take a deep breath and pray for it to end swiftly... so I could run and hide to a place where I could finally cry without anyone hearing or seeing me.

But I did know no one else deserved that treatment... or even the knowledge of such feelings... so I protected.

Laugh at me because I'd get mistreated... yeah. Cool. But answer me this: how many times were YOU mistreated, or even insulted while I stood next to you? Exactly.
I WAS tough. SO tough...
Know how many times ANYONE saw me cry at school? ONCE. In third grade. Because the substitute teacher refused to give me my homework (I told that fucked up story already). NO ONE ever saw me cry BEFORE, DURING, or AFTER getting beat up or bullied or whatever fucked up bullshit others subjected me to. I took it ALL quietly... sight to the floor... breath held in. But NO tears.
And no one ever intervening to stop the abuse.
That's pretty fucking TOUGH.

She laughed when he made fun of me... and refused to acknowledge that it was thanks to me that she was never mistreated by her peers... or my grandfather.
Then again, she'd laugh when the guys would moo at me as I'd walk by the park in Mexico... and she wouldn't tell others to shut up when she'd catch them talking shit about me... she'd just shrug.
She would "adopt" other girls and call them "sisters"... girls she'd choose to hang out with, making sure to leave the house before I had any chance to tag along.
But oh shit! What's this? That catty girl tried bullying you in school? Did you remind her I'm your sister and can easily destroy her if I catch her? Sick me like a pitbull... something you've done since you were a toddler. That's all I really am-- a scary pet.

I thought with time my sister would change.
I didn't think she thought so little of my actions.

I'm fucking destroyed.

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